During the Second World War my grandfather had to bailout twice over the English Channel. So when I saw Jet-Man or Fusion Man winging over the waves today I couldn't help think of him. And how I wish he was still alive so he could have seen that amazing sight. And how I would have loved to strap those jets on him and me, so we could whiz across the channel heading for the white cliffs of Dover, and his home in Kent where my mother was born. Like Yves Rossy did yesterday.
I know he would have loved it. He taught me to love flying. Just like he taught me not to glorify war. But he also taught me to hate fascists.
So the sight of a whole pack of them terrorizing an English village would have disgusted him. He wouldn't have understood how such a thing could happen. And neither can I. How a bunch of Nazis were allowed to wave their filthy swastika flags, sing their racist songs, and threaten people in a country where so many fought and died to defeat that evil philosophy is simply beyond belief. So as much as I miss him, I'm glad my Grand Dad didn't see that hideous spectacle. Just like I'm glad he taught me that flying is awesome, and war is hell. But freedom is EVERYTHING. So sometimes you have to fight the bullies.... even if you'd rather not. The same kind of bullies who are trying to destroy the Human Rights Commission in this country....so they can attack Jews or Muslims or gay people or any other minority group. Oh well. The worst of humanity. Damn those bastard Nazis. And the best of humanity. Three cheers for Mr Rossy....
When Steve Fossett, the great adventurer, disappeared almost a year ago, the news really hit me hard. I love flying and he was one of my heroes. I even thought of going down to Nevada, renting a small plane, and joining in the search. Sébastien brought me gently down to earth. OK not so gently.... more like a crash landing. But now comes the real shocker. Did Fossett fake his own death?
Last September, America's great aviation daredevil took off on a routine solo flight, and was never seen again. Now, as allegations of an elaborate double life begin to emerge, investigators are questioning whether he really died – or even crashed – at all. So now I'm conflicted.
On the one hand I hope they eventually do find the wreckage...so this story can be laid to rest. But on the other hand I can't help hoping that he survived. That he's living on a remote tropical island. Resting in a hammock sipping a margarita. Poor but happy. Spinning fantastic tales to disbelieving islanders....about flying around the world without landing. And other crazy stuff. Still the great adventurer. Still my flying hero....
Sometimes being a mime can be a lonely job. Just like being a blogger. Especially if you're a gay one in Canada.. So I thought I should take a timeout. And give myself a well deserved pat on the back. First of all for nailing this story. From its tawdry beginning......to its sensational climax. So I didn't have to backtrack furiously like so many other bloggers who had casually shrugged off the story. Chuff Chuff Chuff. Full steam REVERSE !!!!! I know what I'm talking about .......REALLY!!!! All I had to say was I told you so. Oh yes....and also that for me the story had NOTHING to do with what Julie Couillard looks like ....or the size of her boobs....as some bloggers seem to suggest. You can trust me with that one. I didn't even notice them. Are they REALLY that large? For me it was all about some really bad choices, during a motorcycle gang war that terrorised the city I lived in, bombs, piles of corpses, the death of a poor kid named Daniel Desrochers, some rotten judgement by a powerful but incompetent Con Minister, and of course a question of national security.
But never mind. Because I also want to claim credit for nailing another story.... or foreshadowing it. The story of the man who DIDN'T fall to earth over Saskatchewan. Or as I feared....hit a wingnut....or dig a nasty big hole in a wheat field. But seriously... how come I appear to be the ONLY person to suggest that the Big Jump seemed a little reckless and ..... um.....amateurish. Apart from his rival.
"I think if he had launched he would have seriously injured himself or gotten killed,"It's a nightmare to launch a balloon of that size.....I just look at it and think, 'This guy hasn't really thought this out.' "
Talk about being saved by the balloon. Eh?
Or for that matter how come I was the ONLY hoser to wonder why if French authorities deemed the stunt too dangerous to allow him to jump over France....why was it safe for him to jump over Saskatchewan?
Wait. Don't tell me. I think I can guess. Either I'm really brilliant. Or a lot of people are really DUM....
------------------------------------------------------------- P.S. Did any of those geniuses who thought that the Max and Julie scandal wasn't a story....check out Stephen Harper's pale shrunken face yesterday ?
I see the former French paratrooper who plans to jump from a balloon forty kilometres over Saskatchewan has postponed his first attempt. And I'm not sure whether to be disappointed ..... or RELIEVED. Because something about this story bothers me. I admire the old guy for his guts and for sacrificing everything for a 20-year dream.
And I know how great the feeling of free falling through the air can be...even if Sébastien has to kick me in the butt to get me to jump.
But Michel Fournier is sixty-four, has had a triple bypass, is planning to jump from a height three times higher than he ever has before, and reach a speed almost twice as fast as the great Joe Kittinger. A speed where you could burn, as well as freeze, or have your blood boil. And if French authorities decided the project was too dangerous to allow him to jump over France...who decided it was safe enough for him to jump over Saskatchewan? Just wondering. Oh well. I hope the old guy makes it.
That his dream comes true at last. And that his watch doesn't stop.
So he gets to see our world rushing towards him like the great Joe Kittinger did. Whose bravery has always thrilled me. And who said this week: It was nice to be headed back to earth, because it’s an environment that we can live in... And it’s a beautiful planet, really....”
Really...
Oh well....at least he won't need a surfboard in Saskatchewan.
