An military fighter jet preparing to land at a Marine base crashed near a school and a busy highway in a densely populated San Diego neighborhood Monday, destroying two homes. The pilot of the F/A-18D Hornet jet ejected safely, according to a statement from Marine Corps Air Station Miramar. San Diego fire and rescue spokesman Maurice Luque said he doesn’t know whether anyone on the ground was injured.
My first impression is that Hidden Peak (11’000) of Snow Bird is not for the faint of heart. After the Aerial Tram drops you on an exposed metal platform, there are few places to hide. The first tram of the day may be your last, due to conditions. Buffeted by near blizzard winds with stinging snow it was fun trying to strap in and not get blown away. A short slide later you will be faced with decision-time in front of a triple-set of double black diamonds. “Oh, that’s what they meant by experts only” is what was going through my mind as I dropped into a steep powdery bowl, using duck and cover to keep momentum into the howling wind…
She will kiss you ’til your lips bleed
But she will not take her dress off
Americana, Tropicana
All the sailor boys have demons
They sing oh Kentucky
why did you forsake me?
If I was meant to sail the sea
Why did you make me?
It should’ve been another state, oh state
Because Mary Anne’s a bitch
Mary Anne’s a bitch
Mary Anne’s a bitch
Mary Anne’s a bitch
Mary Anne’s a bitch
Mary Anne’s a bitch
Does it matter that our anchor
Couldn’t even reach the bottom of a bath tub?
And the sails reflect the moon
It’s such a strange job
playing Black Jack on the deck
Still, atop this giant bottle
dressed in white we quietly huddle with our missiles
And we miss the girls back home
Oh home sweet home
Because Mary Anne’s a bitch
Mary Anne’s a bitch
Mary Anne’s a bitch
Mary Anne’s a bitch
Mary Anne’s a bitch
Mary Anne’s a bitch
She will kiss until your lips bleed
But she will not take her dress off
Americana, Tropicana
Americana, Tropicana
Americana, Americana
I posted this poem because I really love the imagery and the twists of bottles and tubs, missiles and kisses. Her words are as sweet and varied as verses — sung in staccato, spiccato, and legato. She’s so very prescient, but my favorite work of hers lately is actually Fidelity. I wonder if there is any connection since the guy in Fidelity resembles a Russian sailor…
