It's A Small World...Reading Michael's blog just now brought back memories from the 1960s when I was a flight surgeon during the fiasco in SE Asia. I recalled a night when I was in the stag bar at our base in Thailand and tipping back a few with the fly boys (hey, it was my job to stay close to them and watch for psychological problems...but I digress). That night, I found myself next to a well -lubricated transient pilot who was just there for the night (on his way to where, I never found out). In any event, around his 75th drink, he raised his glass in a toast and said, "Here's to Joey."

Digging the camaraderie, I lifted my own almost empty glass and replied, "Here's to Joey from Boston." The guy froze, looked at me and asked, "You know Joey form Boston?" I laughed and told him I was referring to my cousin, a doctor who had grown up in Boston. As it turned out, this guy and my cousin had been room mates in college. We exchanged some good tales that evening.

Another day found me in a KC-135, a Boeing 707 modified as a re fuler. We were, much to my discomfort, in North Vietnam air space and, according to the charts, were over flying a surface to air missile (SAM) site. We were not supposed to be there except for the fact we were trying to rescue an F-4 that had taken a hit and was leaking fuel fast.

As we all scanned the air with binoculars, I muttered (not realizing I had said it out loud, "I hope I live to see Milwaukee again." The copilot, a young lieutenant, turned and said, "Hey, I went to Custard High School." Small world, ain't it?

Paddle safe...
DS