I was originally going to make this post about the fact that we lost Lex exactly one year ago. For those of you that who weren’t lucky enough to know personally or through his writing, he was a naval aviator who’s ride of choice was the F-18 Hornet. After a distinguished career in the Navy he was lucky enough to land a retired fighter pilot’s dream job as a civilian contractor flying an F-21 Kfir as an adversary pilot. Last year he was killed trying to land when in bad weather, out of fuel, out of ideas, and out of luck. I was going to write about losing friends to the sky, both flying and skydiving. About how it was worth the sacrifice to live the life. But today I got the news that another friend of mine died yesterday, not from a plane crash or skydiving accident but from complications from a knee replacement. Where am I going with this? I don’t know, but when people ask me how in the world I can risk my life doing what I do every day I tell them that it’s because it’s who I am, it’s what I do. It’s how I live. And if you think I’m going to stop doing what I do and tip toe through life only to arrive safely at death you’re crazy. Full throttle, damn the torpedoes, fly fast, and take chances. Any questions?
