National Buccaneers Newsletter April, 2019 Prez Captain Stan Sez The convention is about six weeks away and the checks are start- ing to arrive on a more daily basis. Most members are planning to stay the two days with some expressing positive anticipation of that change. I have been humbled with the positive emails, phone calls, thanks, and verbal comments wishing us the best and hoping for a bright future for our club. With Bob Pierson, Hart Kelley, Keith Mackey, Steve Mills, Bill Mauldin, and Beth Mauldin as our regular contributors, we hope to contin- ue improving the Buccaneer Newsletter. The newsletter will continue to be accessible on the nalbucs.com website. Once again, if any of our club members know of anyone that is not com- puter savvy, please try to assist them in obtain- ing a copy of the club Buccaneer Newsletter. Hopefully, with your input, participation, and suggestions this should be a fun and energizing time culminating in our 2019 convention. We are not going to be here forever, and appreci- ation for the annual convention becomes more important as the clock ticks. As previously mentioned over the past few months, Bob and I look forward to seeing those of you that are able to attend the 2019 conven- tion. As a side note, I would like to thank John Wentworth for writing the meeting comments concerning the Ocala monthly luncheons. Officers are: President: Capt. Stan Barfield VP/Convention Chair: Bob Pierson Bob Pierson Past President: Capt. John Wentworth and Linda Wentworth Past Treasurer: Sharron and Bob Thrasher Production by Beth Mauldin
Transcript
National Buccaneers NewsletterApril, 2019
Prez Captain Stan Sez
The convention is about six weeks away and the checks are start-ing to arrive on a more daily basis. Most members are planning to stay the two days with some expressing
positive anticipation of that change. I have been humbled with the positive emails, phone calls, thanks, and verbal comments wishing us the best and hoping for a bright future for our club. With Bob Pierson, Hart Kelley, Keith Mackey, Steve Mills, Bill Mauldin, and Beth Mauldin as our regular contributors, we hope to contin-ue improving the Buccaneer Newsletter. The newsletter will continue to be accessible on the nalbucs.com website. Once again, if any of our club members know of anyone that is not com-puter savvy, please try to assist them in obtain-ing a copy of the club Buccaneer Newsletter.
Hopefully, with your input, participation, and suggestions this should be a fun and energizing time culminating in our 2019 convention. We are not going to be here forever, and appreci-ation for the annual convention becomes more important as the clock ticks.
As previously mentioned over the past few months, Bob and I look forward to seeing those of you that are able to attend the 2019 conven-tion.
As a side note, I would like to thank John Wentworth for writing the meeting comments concerning the Ocala monthly luncheons.
Officers are:President: Capt. Stan Barfield
VP/Convention Chair: Bob Pierson
Bob Pierson
Past President:Capt. John Wentworth and
Linda Wentworth
Past Treasurer:Sharron and Bob Thrasher
Production by Beth Mauldin
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attempt to stand, I started to list to starboard, quickly reached to my right to push up on the desk, only to find the damn towel bar again. Well, this time the injuries were less severe. Only two puncture wounds from the screws, which were still attached to the end. Some alco-hol, administered externally due to the time of day, bacitracin and three Tylenol, and breakfast was waiting.
On the way down to the garage, I remem-bered I would need my earbuds to listen to tunes while mowing and headed back inside. They were not in the normal drawer next to the computer, so I asked if the wife had seen or used them. She reminded me she had found them last week in a dirty pair of pants and gave them to me yesterday. That bit of info was enough to trigger my needle sharp memory. Sure enough, there they were, in the pocket of the pants I had worn yesterday when I was planning to mow and weed eat. After a short search for one of my multiple pairs of cheater glasses, two phone calls, a couple of texts, and a visit from a neighbor, the belt went on the mower with only a few more minor cuts and contusions. We were finally ready to mow.
Productive Day of Retirement by Hart Kelley
Going to bed last night my next day chores were clearly etched in the crevices of my dwin-dling gray matter. I would quickly install a new belt on the riding mower and then mow and weed eat the lawn. Drifting off to sleep was easy knowing tomorrow would be a productive day of retirement.
Waking at the crack of “nine” I headed to dress, brush my teeth, and commence the day’s chores. As I approached the bathroom, which is a shared area with the wife and cat, about halfway to an unceremonious encoun-ter with the marble floor, it became apparent that the cat had left a present. As my feet went out from under me, multiple scenarios flashed through my mind. Was this going to be the old man falls and breaks hip, old man falls and suffers serious brain injury, or old man falls and bruises multiple locations and ego? Not to keep you in suspense, it was the latter. With a caring, feeling voice mumbling from the bedroom, “Why are you making so much noise?” I sprang, well actually rolled over, grabbed the towel bar and tried to stand. Yep, you saw it coming, the towel bar came out of the wall about halfway to being upright, and the ground again approached rap-idly. Fortunately, I landed on the other cheek, on an up to this point, un-bruised area. I rolled very slowly, did my best impression of a push-up and with assistance from the wall, made it back to my feet. Breakfast was waiting.
Midway to the kitchen, towel rack in hand, I veered off to the office for a quick check of my emails. Several adult jokes, political cartoons, and the news of the day later, an hour and a half had passed. When I tried to stand, you’ll recall the bout with gravity earlier, many of the previously abused body parts had started to seize up, and the legs alone were not going be sufficient without help. Halfway up in my
clipart-library.com
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As I exited the garage toward the back yard the sprinklers were running at 11:30 in the morning? Huh. Why is that? Then I re-membered the power had gone off yesterday afternoon for four hours and must have goofed up the sprinkler timer. It’s also the reason I’m mowing today instead of yesterday because I wasn’t able to jump-start the dead battery on the mower.
A little further toward the back yard and a site reminiscent of “Old Faithful” was straight ahead. Water was shooting 20 feet into the air, and a huge puddle was forming. With the lawn soaked, and since it’s a mess to mow when the grass is wet, I headed back to the garage to get the necessary items to repair the broken sprinkler. With all necessary parts, the shovel, extra piece of pipe, fittings, sprinkler, glue, and PVC cutter, I was ready. I knelt down next to the now receding puddle to see if it would be possible to easily change out the sprinkler head without too much digging. Less than a minute into the search and over the slowly subsiding pain from my earlier injuries, a new but familiar feeling short-circuited the sprinkler repair. FIRE ANTS. #%@^#^&&#$! With such a tiny body, but armed with a nuclear arsenal of lethal poi-son, they are a formidable advisory. Even with the existing medical conditions from earlier and a Tylenol suppressed sensory nervous system, I was on my feet in record time and giving my best impression of a moonwalk and Saturday Night Fever dance steps rolled into one. It was apparent the ants were not impressed with their upgrade to waterfront property and sought re-venge. I was now bitten, bruised, battered, and badly in need of further minor first aid. The ants had won round one. Now on to rest and a lunch break.
After a recuperative hour enjoying a peace-ful sandwich, it was time to finally get to the lawn. I was headed back outside when my wife confronted me with forty questions regarding the missing towel rod, holes in the bathroom
wall, and when was I going to fix it? Which meant it should be done right away. Actual-ly now. After a pathetic attempt to put off the bathroom repair until after the lawn, I went back down and gathered the necessary “stuff” to fix the wall and re-install the towel rack. The re-pair, other than not being up to Leona Helmsley standards, was completed, except for the paint touch up, in a little over an hour. Finally back to the lawn! Wrong again.
When I got back to where I left the lawn tractor, I realized I hadn’t finished the sprin-kler repair, which meant going back to enemy territory. Armed with several cans of lethal ant poison, I approached stealthily and made quick work of the little biters. Or so I thought. The easy repair was not in the cards, nor should I have expected as much considering how the day was progressing. I put the final piece of new PVC in place, screwed in the sprinkler head, and was just getting ready to stand up when one last Kamikaze fire ant struck. Let’s put it like this, it was a well-planned covert suicide strike, “deep” into top-secret tender territory. You get the picture? This time I leapt to my feet as if a fiery arrow had struck its mark. Which it had! The dance steps this time were right out of Flash Dance. Including never before seen outtakes of jumps, twists, and rolls in the grass. Dashing, yes that’s correct, dashing, into the downstairs bathroom, ripping off my pants, I was able to locate and remove the now dead warrior. And when I did, I swear he had a grin ear to ear. A little SsssstingStop, which is a re-quired item in our locale, and I was good to go again. Round two a draw.
After picking up all the tools from the Fire Ant war zone, it was approaching 6:00 p.m. I gazed over at the lawn tractor sitting where I had left it at 11:30 this morning, and after a brief debate of about two seconds, I decided I should put mowing and weed eating at the top tomorrow’s list. This way I would be able to have a productive day of retirement.
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Airplane and Airport Mystery Winners
The March airport, Jacksonville, Florida, didn’t seem to be much of a challenge for Bob Massey, Dusty Rhodes, Stan Barfield, Jim Gannon, John Wentworth, Jim Gettys, Vince Wynne, Bob Thrasher, Gary Snod-grass, Curt Briggs, Alan Gee, Linda and Bob Spencer and Jerome Kline. All the answers were sent in within a week. Guess I’ll have to try a little harder. Massey smoked Dusty again... .
As for the airplane, I think the Junkers F-13, which was the first all metal passenger trans-port, caused a little extra research, but John Wentworth, Vince Wynne, Jim Gannon, Gary Snodgrass, Curt Briggs, Alan Gee, Linda and Bob Spencer and Jerome Kline all figured it out.
Flying Memories Photos Courtesy of Harry Maier
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April’s Mystery Airplane and Airport
OK guys and gals, I need the maker, model and what was its
claim to fame?
Going forward with the Mystery Section we need to have all the “guesses” submittedby the 25th of each month. If we receive a guess after the 25th, I’ll give a shout out
USAF Veteran-Brigadier General USAFR DOB July 24, 1949
DOH November 1, 1977 DOD February 16, 2019
Brigadier General Robert “Bob” Wayne Marcott was born in Wichita, Kansas on July 24, 1949. Bob grew up in the rural town of Burns, Kansas until 1956 when his family moved west to San Mateo, California. His high school years were consumed with his passion for baseball with Bob receiving the league’s Most Valuable Player Award in 1967 as a pitcher, the same year he graduated from Hillsdale High School. He briefly con-sidered a career in baseball and spent the summer traveling with a local baseball barn-storming team, but his true calling was to become a pilot. In the fall of 1967, he began that journey at the College of San Mateo, majoring in aeronautics. Last Flight West into the Setting Sun
Bob was employed as a commercial pilot in the private sector. He began his career with National Airlines in 1977 until its merger with Pan American World Airways in 1980 and flew for Pan Am until its demise in 1991. In 1990, as a B-747 pilot, he was selected to fly as a member of the White House Press Charter crew for Pan Am. He retired from United Air Lines as a San Francisco based Airbus 320 Captain in July 2014 after twenty- one years of service. He briefly flew Gulf-stream 200 jets in the corporate sector at the end of his flying career. Bob logged more than 40,000 hours flight time from the combi-nation of his military and civilian careers.
General Marcott was a graduate of the Air Command and Staff College, the Re-serve National Defense Course and Air War College. He obtained a Master’s Degree in Aeronautical Science from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University and a Fellowship in National Security Leadership from Syracuse University.
General Marcott’s awards included the Legion of Merit, Air Medal, Meritorious Ser-vice Medal, Vietnam Service Medal, Kuwait Liberation Medal and various other unit and campaign decorations.
