June 18, 2017


All my life I’ve had two recurring dreams about my demise. One of these dreams involves being struck by lightning as I stand on the porch or patio of an as-of-yet unknown home. 

Yet I go and chase storms every chance I get, loving every minute of it. In fact, we are now back home, I’m standing on the porch while the sky is streaked with the Lightning of an incoming storm. 

Life is too short to live without risk. 

Father’s Day.

My dad and I flew together in this airplane in 2001. Our “old school” photos have already been moved to Chicago, or else I’d be sharing some snaps from that first flight together in his Acrosport II. I do have a couple of shots taken on an old flip phone in 2005.

A couple of days ago I complained on Facebook about the litany of Father’s Day ads being shoved in my direction via email, social media, etc. You’d think with all the information they glean from my online activities, companies would be smart enough to figure out that I have no reason to buy a Father’s Day gift in 2017.

My dad passed on in 2011, nearly six years ago, but Father’s Day can be a little bit of a bummer. This year I’m choosing to focus on the countless great memories I have of my dad.

But I still miss him.