I was sitting out on the sun porch this afternoon watching "8 of 10"....I usually favor my grand kids with numbers like the Borg (Star Trek 1990) mainly because "resistance is futile"... and wondered about this first week of my long anticipated retirement. I've spent most of it camping on a lake just south of Hattiesburg, Mississippi, sitting in a lawn chair watching squirrels watch me throw pine cones in the lake. Some of it has been running back a forth to the airport, loaning tools and troubleshooting various maladies while outfitted in my oldest cargo shorts and "Costa Rica beer's the best" tee shirt. I guess it's going to be a weening process at best. I figured it was February forty six years ago I received my first real paycheck for labor expended on an actual flying machine. So now I'm all hyped up to do those projects of mine that I've put off, be able to attend all those dance recitals, help SWMBO (she who must be obeyed) with the shopping, wash the house.... you get my drift. I had planned to do some salt water fly fishing for those illusive red fish until the Brits filled the Gulf Coast with enough crude oil to pay for "Obamacare" ...like Rosanna Rosanna-Danna said, "It's always somthin' "