Farewell, Ed…

It is strange, this ephemeral relationship we develop among bloggers. You may have never met and know intimacies their family do not. You can have their mind laid out like a map before you to admire, or disdain.

But disdain was never a word I could associate with Ed Rasimus. He had such a welcoming attitude. I admit to some pilot geek affection – readily. So it is with anyone who can force metal into sky. But it was reading his books that really drove my admiration to its breadth. He was able to bring complex aspects of war to life without losing you in the details. I had asked him to publish his early history and I have a Chapter 1, a kind gift from his friend given me the other day. But reading it reminds me that the rest of the story has left with the man. And so very many others…

Hell, there are a hundred things I could write about the man. He was very kind to me on his blog and mine. But nothing I can say will make a moment’s difference compared to what he accomplished and the hole he has left. I take a great comfort knowing that he will not have to see his beloved nation crumble. But I could surely use his strong words right now.

As Billy noted on Facebook, “He once told me that he thought that he’d be ‘checking out just about on-time,’ meaning that there wouldn’t be much left after he was gone. He was right.
He links to this interview offering some details one might not have.

Jethead also had a good interview wherein I noted Ed still had that midwest accent, having never taken on the Texas drawl.

As for me, it puts me in mind of that line in Out Of Africa when Isak is asked where Denys is – “He’s off with Barkley”, she says. But for me I tell myself , “He’s off with Robin,” because if there is a heaven, they are in it and raising all manner of trouble.

Hoist one in his name. His like will not come again soon.

To Ride, Shoot Straight, and Speak the Truth

Karen Blixen took on a motto for a time in her life that was similar to the title – she collected mottoes and  but that one always stood out for me across the decades. Amusingly, I see that it was also a Jeff Cooper book title. I suspect it is far older and edited.

But it is a kind of mantra lately. Time is short and I’ve been doing what I can this past month and more to try to get things squared away. Indeed, some last minute dental work attached itself to the Christmas budget but it was another thing I needed to get done anyway. Check, check. Sarge did much the same recently. Check, check and – also, too – fucking ow.

We watch the rabid purchasing of anything useful by associates whom we’d warned these last 2 years and fight the sad, ragged smiles that verge. Did we not tell you over and over what he was and what you ought to do? And now you ask me to find you that which can only be had for thrice its price a mere 6 months ago? Fool – oh, fool…

But it has cut into training – no one wants to spend good brass at the range. Even with reloading there is a hesitancy. The .22 conversion kits have been a blessing but even so – one looks at those bricks and wonders how many to expend. I have hopes that the 23 “theses” nailed to the Whitehouse door will be nothing but scrap paper blown down the corridors of history. I hope that the manufacturers and distributors will agree to at least supply us all with a few months of sales while the blood runs thinly through the Lollards considering the upside of revolt – it will take at least that long for anything to make its way through their bowels.

Meanwhile, there is nothing more to be done than the acquisition of whatever seems good and the organization of what is already there. Indeed, I’ve heard many people speaking of their actions to make things ship shape…of selling things less useful, of culling what cash they may from accounts. It causes some ease – perhaps people are not so foolish…

But then one need only look to the cities for that thought to be dashed.

It was the 17th when I first had thoughts washing over me about Ed, and Robin, and of wind rushing by…it was the evening and it was a kind of distracting set of images and sensations. I worry a great deal about him which is really rather silly since I’ve never met the man. But there is a kind of kinship when one reads the words of an author over and over. You feel as if you know them, and have had conversations…I pray he is merely tackling the worst of it with a recovery around the bend. But my fear is great…

Do not forget a kind thought and prayer for darling Angus who was too damned bouncy for his own good. I cannot imagine the horror of the moment nor the anguish following for each hour after. I simply cannot. But I also know that they are parents who can deal with it…strong, smart, ready to deal with what comes.

It is Sarge’s first night back at work in a long while – since Christmas, really. It will be a long night but he is much improved and happy which means a great deal. If you’ve any health concerns, take care of them pronto. And ASK your doc about their politics. Try to find some who are sympathetic. And if they ask if you have guns? Why, smile, ignore, and find another doctor. In time, those who are of a like mind will be known in the smaller circles.

Valentines comes early here – Sarge fell hard for this jacket – an item that neither of us has any need of, jackets of all warmth ratings being strewn everywhere near the full coatrack. Still, it is a FINE one. And it ought to survive rather a long while. We love that fabric…as an aside, the sofa cover of the same fabric is AMAZING. Worth the money and then some.

Well, now – I suppose that’s about it. I refuse to even consider the days’ event. Instead, I’ve some research to perform on chicken/egg production. As in how many per persion…

Thinking about you, Ed…young, dumb, and full of – well, you know. Missing you…