From Babbitt to Baghdad (Part 37)

Just before John Fitzgerald Kennedy was assassinated, he was pondering the removal of troops from Vietnam. Once the lead of the mail order 6.5mm Carcano bullet blew out the right side of JFK’s head, all bets were off. During the swearing in of LBJ, there were actual smiles while Jackie Kennedy openly mourned and wept with blood and brain matter inundating her pink dress. With JFK out of the picture, Lyndon Banes Johnson set out to validate a massive troop build-up in Vietnam. The symbol for this validation would come via the “Gulf of Tonkin” incident. The Gulf of Tonkin lie would be confirmed by Robert McNamara just before his death.

In reality, Ho Chi min only wanted the unification of Vietnam after French Colonialism. The US forced Ho Ch Min into the hands of the Russians. Vietnam then became a proxy war for armament manufacturers. Just as Hitler needed a war to sustain his war economy, Russia needed weapon sales to prop up their communist regime. Vietnam also became a windfall for the U.S military industrial complex. Of course, Reagan’s “outspend the Soviets plan” during the 1980s was simply another avenue for windfall profits and a continuation of Vietnam-style military spending. It was just named differently. etc.  The Korean war staved off the collapse of the U.S. military industrial complex after WWII.  Korea, in turn, was replaced by the Cold War and a nuclear arms race.  Reagan’s build up replaced Vietnam.

The collapse of the Soviet empire was inevitable. The Soviets needed to rid themselves of the soft underbelly nations anyways. They were basically dead weight and took too much military presence and logistics to sustain. Hence, it was not so much a collapse as a withdrawal and a currency reconstruction. Of course, the Berlin wall would fall and Reagan would be credited with outspending the Soviets? The Soviets were in the throws of communist economic death regardless of reagans’s deficit spending for armaments profit.

When the former Soviet Union collapsed, and withdrew their military support from the soft underbelly, they also withdrew economic and military assistance from Iraq, Syria, and Cuba along with many other countries that were once part of the communist sphere of influence. The Communist empire became bankrupt as avenues for armaments profit dried up. The thousands of tanks that were stationed in the Ukraine, for example, were drained of fuel which was sold on the black market. They were then filled with water. Soviet fighter pilots had to do airshows for fuel. The once mighty Soviet  Black Sea  Fleet rusted away at the Crimean port city of Sevastopol.

Just as Hitler understood that the German economy which was based on war production would collapse at the end of the 1930s, the Soviets staved off collapse through wars in Korea, Vietnam, and the Cold war,   However, while the rest of the world was retooling to a civilian manufacturing economy, the Soviets were dying on the communist vine.  In fact, pure Soviet style communism failed miserably. In response, they would turn to more of a free market society run by Russian mobsters etc.

When Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait, the last remnants of arms sales and profit would be taken away from the Russians. After the USA kicked Iraq out of Kuwait, the UN sanctions, no-fly zones, and military presence would kill off  Russia/Iraq arms deals. Syria and Libya would remain, however. Moammar Gadaffi’s military warehouses would be full of freshly purchased Russian-made advanced weaponry. Syria would become Russia’s premiere customer for weapons sales.

The USA would put Iraq on the perpetual back burner. The US military Industrial Complex would put Iraq in their “Shopping for Wars shopping cart!”

George Herbert Walker Bush set legitimate mandates related to the liberation of Kuwait. The “Highway of death” carnage and outcries from the rest of the world forced GHW Bush to stop in lieu of going all the way to Baghdad. As a result, the Shiites in the south and the Kurds in the north were left to fend for themselves. Sadam Hussein would use chemical weapons on the Kurds.

To shore up his regime, Saddam Hussein’s Sunni-dominated military would use airpower to squash the uprisings and subjugate the masses once again. In response, The US would create no-fly zones, and apply sanctions.  The sanctions would include an “oil for food” program. Saddam Hussein would use the food to support his military while the children of Iraq starved. The US made certain that every bit of oil revenue stayed out of the hands of the Russian military Industrial complex as well.

In response to the gassing of Kurds, The Clinton administration and the UN would force the Iraqis to give up their WMD. Moreover, they were subject to constant inspections.

In order to support the no-fly zones, the Air force flew Northern Watch missions out of Incirlik AB,  Turkey, and  Southern Watch missions from Daharan in Saudia Arabia. The U.S. military presence in Mecca would lead to the bombing of the Khobar Towers and then the World Trade Center on 9/11/2001. Even though most all of the perpetrators of 911 were Saudi, the George Walker Bush administration would use the symbol of 911 to launch a multi-staged campaign to destabilize the Middle East in addition to ridding Afghanistan of the Taliban. The removal of the Taliban was justified, but it was a police action at the time and did not generate enough armaments revenue. Afghanistan would be put on the back burner of the shopping cart.

Once the U.S. and the Northern Alliance reduced the Taliban in Afghanistan, George Walker Bush set his sites on Iraq. He would use the “Weapons of Mass destruction lie” and direct 911 rage onto an innocent nation.  Just as LBJ used the Gulf of Tonkin incident lie to facilitate war, GWB would use the WMD lie to attack Iraq. The military industrial complex would have their huge war for profit. George Walker Bush would employ his shopping cart sell job and commit troops to regime change and the wholesale destabilization of the Middle East.  Geedub and the CIA would use a lie to talk Collin Powell into the scheme. He would leave the Republican party as a result. Thus began the worst foreign policy in the history of the United States of America.

Currently, Republicans are posturing to see if they can maximize war profit in Syria. This is why Vladimir Putin went after Hillary Clinton and will be cutting deals with Donald Trump. There will be no no-fly zone in Syria as weapons are funneled in from both sides.  The U.S. military industrial complex and the Russian Military Industrial Complex with harvest the  Sunni/ Shiite religious Jihad bullshit until the cows come home…

Of course, the 730th would be the tip of the sword. Just before Wold Blitzer would engage his mouth concerning the AKAK in Baghdad, the 730th and the mighty C-141C would be hauling brand new 4 by 4  quad cab Toyota technicals from Mildenhall England to Kuwait International.  Complete with .50 caliber machine gun mounts, these “Toyota technicals” were purchased from a dealer in Texas.  John Jacob Jingle Heimer, the redhead chess player that loved Manchester United soccer, would be the aircraft commander. We would be activated for Iraq while in England.

Today, the Reagan’s outspend the Soviets agenda has been replaced with the China devalued currency agenda. As the US manufacturing base is obliterated by Chinese workers, the military Industrial complex has to compete with social programs and a massive and intrusive Federal Government for scarce hard revenue. Of course, the US Congress, Senate, and Executive, or the entertainment department of the military Industrial complex will borrow money from China, deficit spend, and pass the bill to our children so they can make money on weapons systems. With republican control of the Federal government, expect deficit spending for profits related to the military industrial complex.

Watch as Trump’s “make America Great again” devolves into “make America neocon again!” Watch as the so-called conservatives pass massive spending increases without any new revenue streams or budget reductions.



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From Babbitt to Baghdad (Part 36)

During the summer of 2002, the C-17 kiss of death had descended upon the 446th at McChord AFB. The last C-141B sortie would be flown to the boneyard in April 2002. the once proud C-141 Flight Engineer would be relegated to a back office updating C-17 publications or handing out pudding cups in the back of a C-17. The Loadmaster corps that had endured second-class C-141 status for 36 years cheered when the Flight Engineer job was terminated and joined the ash heap of aviation history. The smiles and validation would end after the first year of 26 hour crew duty days and the sterile and stringent interaction with the class-conscious officer corps.  Fun, adventure, and camaraderie with a larger enlisted crew would become 20 hours in the air on a routine basis followed by the pathetically short attention span of the Air Force officer aviator in crew rest. In lieu of beers in downtown Germany with a robust contingent of aviators, the lone  Loadmaster would have to endure Victorian-style dinner outings with anal retentive and pathologically constrained pilots waiting for a job with United. While the Flight Engineer enlisted was gone, the Loadmaster would still be a second class citizen on the aircraft only without the friends and camaraderie save maybe a few crew chiefs and an overworked Med crew.

The McChord ramp with Mount Ranier in the background would be full of freshly minted C-17s. With the C-17 came a whole new way of doing business.  Unlike the C-141 that was a creature of the Military Airlift Command, the C-17 represented a different style of ops tempo. In 1992, the Strategic Air Command, the Tactical Air Command, and the Military Airlift Command were dissolved and restructured into the Air Combat Command and the Air Mobility Command, for the most part. General Merrill McPeak would kill off MAC, SAC, and TAC along with introducing faggy flight suits with epaulets. In addition, the restructuring of 3 commands into 2  would allow the newly formed AMC to be infected with the heinous SAC ideology disease.  The easier laid back old MAC way of doing business was replaced with the C-17 and 26 our duty days. A tolerable flying schedule was replaced with wholesale abuse of aircrews. Instead of retaining folks for decades, the new C-17 flying OPS tempo and crew duty days would burn out aviators quickly. The tolerable “Tube of Pain” would become SAC infected aviation torture with better lighting.

The C-141 had been at McChord since 1966. The wing had flown over 160 million miles or 6600 times around the earth. Many of the Flight Engineers had been flying since 1966. A few had over 15,000 flying hours. That equates to 7 years in the air.  McChord AFB was one of the best C-141 wings in the Air Force. Many of the civilian employees that ran the Air Reserve units had been flying the C-141 since 1966 and cut their aviation teeth in Vietnam. Prior to that, they would fly on the C-124 or “Old Shaky.”  These folks basically transitioned the “Golden Age” of piston engine aviation to the Jet Age. The Flight Engineer trainer that had the greatest impact on me, had been flying the C-141 since 1968.

The Air Reserve Technicians at the 446th Flying Squadrons had trained and employed utter thousands of Flight Engineers. Their efforts allowed the C-141B to operate safely throughout the world.  Given that McChord AFB Reserve units flew 60% of all MAC missions, a full 60% of C-141 missions out of McChord AFB were flown by Reservists. Folks that were not “paid to shave!” These Reserve units would retain dedicated Air Reservist aviators for decades. This would change with the C-17. In order to support long duty days, the Air Mobility Command would scrap the nonexistent physical testing program for an Army style physical training program. Instead of walking a mile and a half once a year, older Reservists were forced to run, and do a specified number of sit-ups and pushups to prove their physical capabilities. Then if one could not pass the physical, one was removed from the service or put on a fat boy program. This type of physical program had not existed at McChord since 1966.  I thought it pathetic to see 50-year-olds playing the game just to keep their tiny Reservist check and status while a 20-year-old internet addicted millennial with a clipboard and a stopwatch looked on. It was a new age and all of the previous aviation standings and behavior would receive the Zyklon B treatment.  If one wanted to sit in the back of an airplane for 20 hours at a time and eat greasy MAC terminal food across the planet, one must be able to do a predetermined amount of situps.

The C-141 and the MAC mentality was worth fighting for to maintain affiliation. The C-17 mission was basically heinous aircrew torture for a little over minimum wage for a Reservist.

The scorned Clinton Air Force had turned into the Bush Air Force, and nation building 10,000 miles way. In order to accomplish the role of world policeman, one must be able to negotiate a pushup or run the mile and a half in Roger Banister fashion.

the Air Force cared more about the aspect of a height weight proportionate Air Force than experience. In fact, every aspect of one’s being was fair game as it related to an enlisted performance report. This level of overzealousness might work in an Active Duty environment, but not in an Air Reserve environment where the individuals take off work to participate for minimum wage. Then again, the power structure of the 313th liked to do behavior modification and asshole checks as part of a checkride. They would fit right in with the new C-17 mentality.

I have worked on the B-52 G/H, the KC-135A, the C-130H, the KC-10A and the C-141B/C. The C-17 was just another airplane and meant nothing to me or my financial future.

The new C-17 flying requirements would lead to unsafe flying conditions and “Air Crew burnout”.  Instead of retaining pilots after the 10-year mark, they would quit and become airline pilots. They would trade the 26 to 30-hour crew duty day for the FAA mandated 8 hours a day flying limitation. Aircrew training costs would go through the roof when Loadmasters would quit after 4 years or seek a ground job. Instead of seeing the same folks in a squadron photo year after year, one would see unknown faces after only a few years time. Ultimately the C-17 Ops tempo and crew duty days will lead to every manner of physical problems from sleep apnea to emotional issues. The only benefit is that the airlines which are strapped for pilots have a constant new pool of trained USAF pilots that burn out after the 10 year Active Duty mark.  This is by design.

The C-141 was a symbol of JFK, the Hanoi Taxi, the Cold war, Desert Storm, and every manner of the humanitarian event across the globe. The aircraft would symbolize the jet age and ultimately a symbol of peace and of a balanced foreign policy. The C-17 would become a symbol of regime change and nation building 10,000 miles away. It would become a Bush symbol with visions of soldiers being forced to go door to door in Fallujah with their rifles at shoulder level. While the C-17 was hauling our patriot soldiers to Muslim shitholes to create democracy and human rights, Bush and a military industrial complex gone-mad was stealing our 4th Amendment rights here in America. While drones were surveilling the battlefields of Afghanistan and Iraq, Bush and the newly created Computer Industrial complex was busy surveilling all of America’s taxpaying citizens and storing bulk data in massive 90,000 SQF bulk data collection centers in Mormon run Utah.

While many loved the C-17 and what it represented to them, I saw it as an instrument for the abuse of the symbol of 911. Moreover, given the new age of media, the internet, and cell phone movie cameras, the C-17 is a creature of the digital age. Anyone with a cell phone can digitally catalog all the C-17 events with the push of a button. For the individual who only considers their lot in life, the digital imagines have meaning within the context their own existence. In the greater scheme of things, they are just images in a massive collage detailing the worst foreign policy in America’s history. Of course, we always support the soldier even if the foreign policy and the leaders are special interest backed assholes who let their donor list run the perpetual wars and nation building.

the C-17 is a wonderful aircraft, but it is a symbol of regime change. The aircraft cut it’s teeth on “Perpetual war” and a time when theU.S.  Federal government absconded our Bill of Rights. The name Globemaster III should be changed to “the Bush doctrine mobile.”

In the final analysis, the venerable and proud MAC legacy of the C-141 at McChord was replaced with the heinous SAC infected C-17 crew duty day and just a fucked up way of doing aviation business.  The balanced MAC leaders were displaced by disgusting SAC fags that put their overzealous brand on the C-17.  The last C-141 leaving McChord signaled the end of a great legacy and the good ol MAC way of doing business. The C-141 was replaced with the “Bush Doctrine Mobile” and a “trenches of Petersburg” aviation mentality with 30-hour crew duty days.  Piss on the C-17 and handing out pudding cups. I am glad that I chose to walk the earth because I was no longer emotionally and physically tough enough to fly the heavies. Of course, as a prior enlisted multi-millionaire, it was beneath my station to be under the command of the C-17 pilot or the Lemay/McPeak shit infected way of doing business.

I would come back to say hi to the Loads at the 728th. The visits were somewhat welcomed but an emotional drain none the less. There were copious new faces. They belonged. You didn’t. They were in the throws of C-17 glory and had status. You were an obsolete nobody. They were enthralled in their own curtained off view of reality.  Their status completely derived and nurtured via the military aviation construct and organizational paradigm. At that moment in time, I was an unworthy engineer with inadequate interaction skills. I would have been a communication liability to the greatness of the 728th Load section. After my last drive down the long road that led to the McChord Airlift Squadrons, the event became Pavlovian. I would get an ache in my heart and a rise in BP whenever I even thought of going there. In fact, I no longer wanted to even enter the base or go to the BX. I was not into casting pearls before swine. In lieu of casting pearls, they could just kiss my ass instead.

It was the spring of 2002, and I had been at March AFB for almost 2 years. Except for a few run ins with a passive aggressive East coast big mouth, I belonged. The clock was ticking on the C-141C however.  The C-141C would only have about 3.5 years left in the Air Force inventory.  By the end of 2002, the only two operational C-141 squadrons were at March or Wright Patterson. By January 2003, there were approximately 32 operational C-141C models left flying. At that moment in time, I still had two more years for my twenty. I would have to do whatever it took to make certain that I road the C-141C to the end.

The best thing I could do was treat all of the aircrews with sincere respect and not fall back into the Load/Engineer bullshit that went on at McChord. In 2002, I was not posturing for a C-17 Loadmaster job. I just wanted to do my best while the C-141C was still flying and then retire altogether.

From the time I was pushing maintenance stands through 2 feet of snow at 40 blow zero in 1978, I had wanted to be a C-141C Engineer. I tried to be a pilot and had all the degrees along with adequate AFOQT scores. It was not to be for the enlisted guy that was busted down, smoked weed, had an article 15 and several letters of reprimand. The C-141 was my first love. I would operate this wonderful aircraft until the end. She would be my last aviation love affair. Unlike a post-Superbowl  NFL coach, I would not stick around to endure a sub .500 losing season with the C-17. I would go out when the TF33-p7s engines of the C-141C emitted their last ounces of carbon  Before this would happen, the last remnants of the mighty C-141 would be called upon once again, and I would be activated for Iraq. At first, I was afraid that I was not up to the task and I would fail.  I would fall apart and present the worst in my character to top off a career that started November of 1977. Instead, I was saved by the collective professional efforts of the 730th Airlift Squadron and thrived. I was among the finest aviators that the Air Force had to offer and insulated by a synergy of excellence. I would also get my “Northern Alliance” patch. My flying hat would be a Denver Broncos baseball cap. I represented the lowest standard of conduct and35-10.

In the Air Force, people who want to deep-six you don’t just chew your asshole. They eat completely around the poop hole so it all falls out. In January 2003, I would finally pull the last surgical stitch from my ass and be removed from the Air Force shitlist hall of fame.




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From Babbitt to Baghdad (Part 35 )

Things changed dramatically after 911 as it related to flying commercial.  The once easy Alaska Airlines flight from Seatac to Ontario, California became a painful affair. Instead of arriving a half hour prior and heading straight to the passenger gate, one had to arrive at Seatac at least an hour before takeoff if not 90 minutes.

The beginnings of TSA was quite offensive. I made the mistake of showing my Federal ID card, hence, I received the full TSA treatment. My bags would be pulled and tested for chemical residue.  I would have to watch as they went through my bags looking for bomb material. When I transitioned the passenger screening area, they would pull me out of line and go through my backpack. A few times I would get another body frisking and backpack search at the gate just before boarding the aircraft. I received this level of scrutiny and was singled out for TSA torture 8 times in a row. I finally stopped flashing my Federal ID card and became anonymous again

I could have avoided the TSA torture had the folks at March sent Active Duty orders, but the short-term nature of the flying commitment precluded that.  For the most part, the civilians at the 730th Airlift Squadron were extremely punctual setting up my flights to Ontario.

At the Alaska Airlines wing of Seatac, I would always run into folks that I knew from the 728th, 313th, and 97th Airlift squadrons. many times, I would end up being a passenger on a flight and one of the pilots would be ex728th. I ran into an ex-728th commander and several old head pilots as well.  On one particular flight, an ex728th pilot treated me to a Bloody Mary and then landed the 737 in a severe crosswind at Ontario.  It was the worst cross and tailwind shear I had ever witnessed. The crosswind component was at the limit and the tail wind gusted to 80 knots. Then again, I knew the pilot could land a bathtub on a carrier so I tossed back the Bloody Mary and held on.  It would be the most horrendous and bumpy approach I had ever been on.  I had flown thousands of sorties. I had flown utter hundreds of low-level airdrop sorties and Green Flag, but this was the worst event ever.  had I not known the pilot personally, my asshole would have been sucking upholstery.  I had flown to airfields out in the Aleutian chain with him and had landed at Adak and Shimea with cross winds and tail wind shears, so this was just a piece of cake.

By October of 2001, the removal of the Taliban in Afghanistan was in full swing if I remember correctly. The US was supporting the “Northern Alliance” in Afghanistan. with the aid of Special Forces and the CIA. The Taliban would be easily toppled.

The last C-141B flight at McChord was in April of 2002. All the Flight Engineers at McChord had retired, cross trained or transitioned to C-17 Loadmasters.  The Flight Engineers that were hired at March AFB would see another 3 to 4 years of excellent flying.

By the April 2002, the 730th and 729th had hired all the ex-Flight Engineers from McChord AFB they were going to hire. Except for one heinously jackacidic 313th fresh off Active Duty faggot that was a pilot for a commuter airline, all of the people that came down were cool, and did their jobs without the political posturing bull shit. they even avoided flipping me shit on a daily basis.

In January 2002, I would volunteer for a mission to  Incirlik Air Base Turkey.  The mission would be tasked with hauling freshly captured Al Qaeda to Guantanamo NAS in Cuba.  We were supposed to be the first C-141C into Afghanistan, however, the US military had bombed the runway at Kandahar, and it was only suitable for the C-17. The C-141C need over 5500 feet of good runway at the very least to land and take off. The folks in charge of the runway tried to patch the hole for C-141C traffic, but the patched opened up when a C-17 rolled over it so we sat at Incirlik for a month.

I suggested that the pilots take a  familiarization ride with a C-17 to Kandahar to check out the field. Surprisingly, they did. During this Fam sortie, however, the C-17 they were flying on land 1000 feet short of the runway and almost crashed. It seems that by the time they realized that they were landing in the desert 1000 feet short, the jet engines did not have time to spool up for a go around. The C-17 landed hard on the dirt as the engines spooled up.  Then it would travel several hundred feet until rotating and becoming safely airborne. The impact would bend the front strut, and the aircraft would fly back to Incerlick gear down. I would go and look at the C-17 nose landing gear on the ramp at Incirlik and it was bent to shit. I have always felt bad for recommending a Fam sortie with Active Duty to an austere location in a war zone. My recommendation almost got our pilots killed.

In January 2001, the only C-141 aircraft that were transitioning Incerlick in support of the movement of Al Qaeda to Guantanamo were the Air Guard units from Jackson Mississippi, and Memphis Tennesse or AFRES units from March, Wright-Patterson, and Andrews AFB. There may have been a few C-141B aircraft from McChord but I cannot recall.

Anyway, we sat at Incirlik for 30 days waiting for the glory that would never come. Soon the wives would be screaming for us to come home.  In addition, I still had an employee ta my automotive shop handling everything. I needed to get back, do the books, and pay my vendors. The other engineer could not stand my snoring. Even after several thrown pillows and his yelling “Brodhead you are killing me,” I continued to snore like a sleep apnea ridden fat pig.  So he dragged his pillow and blanket for sanctuary with the pilots. They were skinny athletes that did not snore. They were 3 or 4 to a room. I was left with my own room and a safe haven for snoring like an overweight warthog.  To this day, I can still hear the twang of his voice as he yelled: “Brodhead you are killing me!”

We did have a great time. We shopped at all the Turkish Bazaars and a few bought chrome Turkish shotguns etc. I purchased no less than 10 Turkish rugs. and made the pilots haul them during bag drags. These pilots had the propensity to not be very nourishing. Instead of a “good morning” or a “kiss my ass,” they had a tendency to engage in neutral strokes or isolation tactics.  One particular morning I had to chew their asses for their pathetic indifference and bullshit level interaction prowess.   At a minimum, I expect at least a “Good morning” and eye contact from a person in a leadership role.  Otherwise, I raise the bullshit flag and declare ” WTF!”

After 30 days in Turkey, I knew where to shop, where to eat, and where to get a good haircut. I even befriended a Turkish couple that invited the crew to their restaurant in Adana 10 kilometers away. It did take a massive sell job to entice the reactionary pilots. The eating establishment was closed just for us. The meal was a huge fresh  Mediterranean Sea bass, with salads and other Turkish delights. The fish was  3 to 4 feet long and presented on a huge silver oval platter.  These folks gave us the deluxe treatment and treated us with respect and kindness. Turkey is the moderate Islam crossroads of Europe. The women cover only their hair if at all and do not wear the Burkha. Turkey is full of wonderful people.

The crew tried to get a hop back to the states. The pilots had set us up on a KC-10A that was headed to McGuire AFB. We were almost packed and ready to go. Instead, we were kicked off for “Johnny Jihad Walker Lindh!” He would get the deluxe treatment and have a KC-10A all to his lonesome.  We would stay in Turkey another week. I took the opportunity to do more shopping and barter with the Turkish sales people. By the time, I would be finished bullshitting with the Turks and getting the best deal, I would be high as a kite from all the Turkish tea and shishkabobs.

We would then acquire a Memphis C Model  141 and operate it back to the states. The pilots would bitch from Turkey to California whenever they had to bag drag my beautiful Turkish rugs. I call them my Al Qaeda rugs. Whenever my feet touch the softness of these gorgeous rugs, I think of how the pilots had to drag them off and on the aircraft for several days. “””” Sweeeeeeeet!”

March had opted to do the Afghanistan to Incirlik aspect of the Al Qaeda relocation to Guantanamo. Wright-Patterson performed the Incirlik to Guantanamo portion. Wright-Patterson did all the heavy lifting. The sorties from Incirlik to Guantanamo required a double air refueling. The March crews sat for 30 days, drank Turkish tea, shopped, and ate tasty Turkish food.

Of course, once I returned to the states and took an Alaska Airlines flight back to Seatac, I received their signature body cavity search and the full TSA treatment. I had gone from a mission that was supposed to haul Al Qaeda to getting an asshole check from a minimum wage earning fat assed TSA employee?

Meanwhile, Johhny Jihad Walker Lindh has been rotting in prison for 16 years. it is time to commute his sentence.

In January 2002, The Flight Engineers that came down from McChord AFB were officially declared “The Northern Alliance!” They knew that the C-141 story was coming to and end and wanted to serve with class and dignity before the retirement of the Mighty C-141. We all saw the big picture and wanted to make the final years, months and days of the C-141 a time of proud remembrance. I was thankful for the quality of people I was allowed to serve with. I was afforded the best people for the last 5 years of my time in the service. The association with the 728th, 729th, and 730th was simply a noble gift of humanity, and a wonderful experience that can never ever be duplicated on this earth.

Just as Brodhead’s considered George Washington and the Founding Fathers as their ‘Band of Brothers” at Valley Forge. The girls and boys of the “Northern Alliance” and the 730th Airlift squadron would become my “Band of Brothers!”


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From Babbitt to Baghdad (Part 34)

It was a beautiful September day in the “Inland Empire” of California. I had just boarded the base shuttle after a nice Alaska airlines flight from Seatac to Ontario and was on my way to March AFB once again.  The March AFB recreational center supported the base shuttle.  The 30-mile trip would be filled with chatter about the weather or current events. All I had to do was call ahead of time, and they would send an Air Force van to pick me up. They would take me to the squadron building where I would check in, say several hellos throughout the building and acquire my 1967 Zenith blue VW bug that was parked in back. Once I had made the rounds at the unit, I would head over to billeting and get a room.

The reservations desk for March Billeting was housed in an old building with a beautiful Spanish theme. It has a courtyard that is made of stone. The roof is made of red Spanish tile, as are many of the original buildings at March AFB. Copious plants and foliage are all over the place. The wonderful smells are a combination of California native plants, wet groomed grass and cool stone under Spanish roof lines. The folks at the reservation desk were always kind and engaged me in welcoming and witty banter.  I always looked forward to their kindness and can do attitude. They welcomed me to March billeting like they were welcoming me to their home. In return, I was always respectful and showed appreciation and thankfulness for their sincere efforts. By the time I would get my keys to a room, I felt like I belonged and was part of a greater good. The interaction signaled that I was again at March among friends, acquaintances, and colleagues. I was within the arena where I could ply my trade and my passion. Before heading back out the door to my billeting room, I would purchase a few items at their little snack room while verbally jostling with the employee. It is pleasant when the people one deals with are not energy sucking negative morons.

After dragging bags to my room, I would jump in the 1967 Zenith blue  VW bug and head to Moreno Valley for something to eat.  Moreno Valley was dotted with countless Mexican restaurants. Excellent mom and pop shops with the best ethnic foods that southern California had to offer. Because of the stiff food industry competition in the area, one got way more than they paid for. Most of the time, a plate full of food would be two days worth. Over the course of the year that I had been attached to the 730th, I knew where the best Mexican restaurants were. One place on Moreno boulevard made huge Carne Asada burritos. These burritos were not stuffed with rice, but tasty beef and all the real fixings. I would have them cut it in half because it was too big to eat in one setting.  I would also order a huge 32 ounce Orchata and ask for easy ice. If I wasn’t eating at this particular place, there was a Mexican chicken eatery a few blocks over. Their specialty was broiled and baked whole chickens. Complete with beans, rice, tortillas, and their special recipe of pico de gallo.  The large tasty tortillas would house the robust fare and I would savor every morsel. If one wanted pizza, there was still a Shakey’s pizza place for their signature thin crust. If one wanted Italian, Joes was the place to go. Of course PF Changs was a place where we would go to drink beer. Even though the 452nd airdrop program at March totally sucked, there was always room for hot wings and Hefeweizen.

The last resort was the base snack bar. If one did not feel like driving into Moreno Valley, one just ate the grease-drenched items from the snack bar. Chicken and Jojo’s soaked in hot sauce was the standard.

My wife and I never had cable TV for our entire lives. March Billeting had cable and CNN. For the most part, CNN was the channel of choice for aviators in the military. Most of the time, we learned about current events from CNN. The crew could be at any corner in the world and CNN would be available.  Most of the time, aircrew received their intel from CNN. If it was on CNN chances are that it would affect Air Force assets and taskings down the line. If CNN reported a flood or a humanitarian disaster, a C-141 tasking would eventually be sent to the squadron mission planners.  Otherwise, we were the last to know and the first to go.

The rooms at March Billeting were always cleaned and well maintained. One could look forward to fresh sheets and a fluffed pillow. The air conditioning and heating were more than adequate and quite comfortable during extreme seasons of the year.  At my room at March billeting, I would fade off to sleep after flipping through the cable channels. I always slept well at DOD billeting.

The morning routine was always the same. It would begin with loading up the single cup coffee maker with the single serving billeting coffee pack.  These same coffee packs are in every DOD billeting location on the planet. I would then add two packs of generic creamer and a half pack of sugar. After savoring it for minutes on end, it became  “shit, shower, and shave time.”  If I had time, I would make another single cup of coffee and click on the TV. I would then click through the channels like I was an attention deficit disorder ridden chimp in a flight suit.

On this particular day,  the boob tube showed a plane hitting a building. It did not register given that my click through rate was quantified in tenths of a second. I simply thought it was a movie or something. I continued to click through the 40 plus channels of gibberish only to see a different angle of an aircraft hitting a building. I  thought that I was just on the channel of the movie again. After a few more clicks, it became all too clear that something was up, so I turned up the volume on CNN and listened to reporters detailing how a  passenger aircraft had collided with one of the Twin Towers.  When the reality had set in, I thought it was simply an accident. The accident theory was quickly scrapped when another airplane hit the second tower. In between visions of an airliner hitting the twin Towers, I was treated to human beings jumping from windows to avoid being burned alive. It was only a few moments more before the second tower collapsed at 7:28 AM PST. About that time, I called my unit and headed to the squadron. When I arrived at the unit, the mission planning folks were already getting taskings from AFRES.

At first, the resource manager overlooked me for one of the missions in favor of another fellow until the assistant resource manager put his foot down. It seems that even during times of national tragedy, bureaucracies love to play favorites. Even though glory is fleeting, they like to choose who gets the glory. I had been flying over 300 hundred hours a year for the 730th and was an asset.  I may have been a pain in the ass, but I was a dedicated pain in the ass that contributed. Not letting me go on a 911 support mission after committing to a 10-day block of time in another state, would have been an insult and a slap in the face. As it was, the assistant resource manager said that Brodhead was going on the mission.

By noon, the professionals in mission planning had us lined up for a mission to New Jersey. Our crew would be put on Bravo alert and a mission fragged for McGuire AFB. Once all the pre-mission procedures were accomplished, we were hauled to the flight line in a blue Air Force box van.

The C-141C crew would sit on the tarmac at March AFB for 9 hours waiting for FEMA assets to show.  The ramp was hot because of the California sun. Many of the crew simply laid down under the shade of the aircraft and tried to sleep during the Bravo alert.  Others propped themselves up against a main landing gear tire. Others chatted with aircraft maintenance.  In just a couple of hours, the aircraft had been pre-flighted, fueled, and was cocked for flight. The forms were clean.  Everything was ready to go. Most of us were not able to make it to lunch. Some did not have breakfast either. By 5 PM, the crew was starving.

The Aircraft commander would talk the maintenance folks into going into town and bringing back some fast food and drinks.  We would feast on greasy Carls Junior delicacies as a crew.

The March AFB  Air Force Reserves and civilian workforce aircraft technicians were the best that the Air Force had to offer.   They had extreme corporate depth and experience and maintained the Wing of 16 C-141C models with impeccable care.  As a Unit equipped Wing, the Air Force Reservists of the 452nd Air Mobility Wing were highly skilled and saw the big picture when compared to the relatively inexperienced  Active Duty counterparts at other bases.  When one wanted an airplane fixed quickly, one wanted an old head Reservist,  Air Guardsman, or civilian to do the job. The experience level allowed them to cut through the BS and cut to the chase when repairing aircraft. All I needed from them was “we got it handled!”

Of course, the Active Duty could fix planes well, it just took way longer and many more man hours. When the Air Force reduces manning they always entice the older Active Duty folks to leave. With the exodus of experienced Active Duty comes incompetence and the man hours to maintain a Wing goes up. The real cost of getting rid of experienced Active Duty technicians rears its ugly head out in the system.  As a Flight Engineer, part of my job was to interface with maintenance, access the fix phase path and how it would affect mission continuance. Most of the time, all it took was a few questions and a little input. Then the younger maintenance troops were off and running. The moral of the story is to encourage experienced mechanics and technicians to stay in the Air Force, Air Force Reserves, and Air Guard, otherwise, readiness, safety, training levels and man hours are adversely affected. March AFB did not have this problem. They knew the C-141C, how to fix it when it was broke, and how to keep it airworthy. When the aircrew showed up at a March bird, we would find the aircraft clean, airworthy with perfect forms. When there was an issue, the maintenance folks were positive proactive and task oriented. They epitomized how things should be done.

On 9/11/2001, This aircraft was safe and ready to fly. Not only that, the maintenance crew was simply a joy to work with. I never passed up an opportunity to give kudos to the maintenance folks. Because of their efforts, MAC hauled utter millions and millions of patriot troops and retirees all over the world safely. When I jumped on board a 452nd MAW airplane I knew that it was perfect to fly.

The cutting edge navigation system remained on with waypoints loaded. The cockpit windows were open so as to catch the California breeze. The only thing required now was to turn on the glass displays and run checklist items. All one heard outside was the hum of a -28 diesel Hobart power unit. The 9 hours on Bravo alert sitting on the ramp at March would go quickly.

Soon, several search dog teams would show up at the aircraft. A few moments later, the assistant director of FEMA would show and the  Loadmaster would direct him towards his seat in the cargo compartment. Meanwhile, the cockpit crew strapped in and started  “the before starting engines checklist.” The sound of the noisy number 3 hydraulic system coming on alerted the ground crew that the aircraft and crew were ready to rock and roll. A moment later the mind-numbing noise of the APU would make its presence known. Next, the chocks and pins would be removed and the ground power unit hauled away.

The Pratt and Whitney TF33-P7 engines would be started one after another. Once the generators were tied to the aircraft’s electrical system, the APU would be shut down.  The next checklist item was to direct engine pressurization to the aircraft environmental system. The rush of much desired cooling air would invade the cargo compartment.  A cargo compartment that had been heating soaking in the hot sun for hours and hours. The rush of cold air would refresh the hardworking Loadmasters in sweat soaked flight suits. When the throttles were advanced, the resultant air conditioning would be cheered silently downstairs in “the tube of pain.”

The brakes would be released and the C-141C started taxiing to the 15,000 foot long SAC built runway. Once lined up on the active runway, the throttles would be advanced and the aircraft would start its takeoff roll. As the engineer on this sortie, I would direct max air to the back of the plane during takeoff and climb out. The cockpit crew would have to settle for the onrush of cold gasper air.

The C-141C broke ground and went wheels up at 11 PM on 9/11/2001 give or take 5 minutes.  The pilot would state, ” positive rate, gear up!”  He then would tell the flight engineer, ” Eng open the forms at 11 pm!

“Will do sir, I would reply!” We would open the aircraft forms and log the beginning of the sortie at 11 PM on 9/11. 2001.

After flying runway heading to approximately 4000 feet, the March tower would then tell us to contact Departure Control on another victor frequency.  Once we were on Departure Control VHF frequency, we would be given permission to fly directly to McGuire AFB.  Normally, the departure from March AFB was a very intricate affair. Normally, because of Los Angeles air traffic, Air Traffic Control would provide a dozen different headings and altitudes before giving permission to fly direct or via filed flight plan. This day, at 4000 feet runway heading, we were cleared direct to New Jersey. After all, there were no airplanes in the sky except a few military jets.

We would be one of the only military aircraft in the skies over America. In fact, for the next 5 hours, we would not hear a single radio call from another aircraft. Over Denver Center, I would break FAA radio protocol and talk with the controller about Jake Plummer and the Broncos. My home as a child was one mile from Denver Center. I passed 17th and Hover thousands of time on my way to school or into town to drag the main street. Today we were passing it 7 miles up at 420 knots true airspeed. I thought, “How bouts dem Broncos” would cheer them up a little and I believe it did.

Every controller at every air traffic control center sounded the same. Instead of employing their differing tempos and verbal styles that demonstrated their level of experience,  and expertise, we were passed from one controller to the next without the controller bling or flare. Instead, we were treated to sober verbiage void of regalia. Communication that showed the pride and professionalism of the Air Traffic Controller were replaced by temperance and seriousness.  An atmosphere of violation was felt by the entire Air Traffic Control community. Everyone was sullen and downtrodden from the attacks on the Twin Towers that morning. Other than being transferred from center to center, all we heard on the radio was the crack, whirr, buzz, and fizz of the VHF radio.  We did not hear, ” United climb to flight level three five zero. We did not hear,  “Cactus descend and maintain three three zero!” We did not hear Delta do this or Alaska do that. We heard nothing. For 2800 hundred miles, we heard no other aircraft making a radio call.  I took in the solemn and reflective moments in time,  while the aircraft rocked and porpoised slowly from autopilot inputs. It was dark and clear in a million. The stars and our C-141C model Starlifter were the only things in the skies across America on 9/12/2001.  To stay vigilant, I directed the cool gasper air onto my face and drank the strong and stale MAC coffee.

Along the way, the crew pondered and talked about the Twin Towers attack. My thoughts at the time were that the Palestinians did the deed. I had no idea that the Saudi Arabians had perpetrated the attack. Either way, Geroge W. Bush would later exploit the symbol of 911 and attack Iraq. The skull and Bones history major who never showed up to fly at his Vietnam avoidance Air Gaurd unit had no idea what he was doing. He did not understand the consequences of war or the plight of refugees when countries are attacked. The history major did not understand history. He would talk the world into attacking an innocent sovereign nation so the neocon could make money. In the Air Force, we called it “shopping for wars!”

The Gulf of Tonkin lie would be used to escalate Vietnam. 911 would be used to start two wars 10,000 miles away.  911 would be used to squash our 4th Amendment rights and create a massive surveillance state as well.

After a few discussions about the Palestineans and the Israeli issues related to the Golan heights, Gaza, or the West Bank, a  robust redhead pilot would turn to me and state. ” This is war, Brodhead!” He was a prior enlisted fireman that became an officer. He spoke his mind. His lack of a conditioned officer communication filter was refreshing.

I had been in Mecca during Southern Watch Missions. I had stayed at the Khobar Towers in Saudi two weeks before they had been blown up. I remembered how Air Force pilot Martha McSally had sued the Air Force over the Burka policy in Saudi. A policy where female fighter pilots had to wear a Burka in public while off base in Saudi. The McSally affair and Khobar Towers attack would lead the Twin Towers attack. After all, Saudis hate women rights and did not like infidels in Mecca. The first female combat fighter pilot stirred the pot.

Many of us were perplexed that terrorists with no aviation training save a few simulator training events at cruise could fly a jet into a Tower. How on earth does a person with no pilot training break through ground effect at 600 miles an hour and fly a dozen feet off the ground into the Pentagon?  The Pentagon attack required a pilot that could force a speeding jet through ground effect. At 600 miles an hour, the aircraft would float on the compressed ground effect layer like a flat rock skipping across a pond. The nose of the aircraft would have to be forced into the ground effect layer and then avoid hitting the ground as well.  This suggests that the 911 perpetrators were highly trained. They were possibly trained on Saudi Arabian simulators by very experienced pilots.

The Bush neocons avoided looking into the Saudi Arabian connection and turned their sights on regime change and nation-building in Afghanistan and Iraq. Bush did not see the blood of patriots. Bush saw dollar signs.

Thomas Jefferson would have simply bombed the hell out of the Taliban and left them to fend for themselves.

George W. Bush and the neocons would send millions of pieces of equipment to the region. The average cost per kill would be in the millions and billions. George W Bush would exploit 911 and launch America into the worst foreign policy in the history of the country. Of course, Barack Obama would then adopt all things Bush as they related to absconding the 4th Amendment and the abuse of the War Powers Act. In lieu of adjusting the “Bush Status of Forces agreement,” Obama would abandon Iraq and perpetuate the wholesale destabilization of the Middle East. As a result, the combined incompetence of Bush and Obama have created a massive humanitarian crisis and have accelerated the Islamification of Europe. The biggest insult was that Obama wasted almost a decade of blood and treasure spent in Iraq to prove a 2007 campaign message. In 2007, Obama stated that Iraq was in a civil war and the surge would not work. He made certain that Iraq was indeed engaged in a civil war, and let that civil war consume both Syria and Iraq.Not only that, he bought into the destabilization of Egypt and regime change in Libya. For utter decades, the “Cold war construct” kept radical Islam in check. Bush and Obama took it upon themselves to screw that up.

George  Walker Bush was a history major. Apparently, he was either too drunk or coked up at Yale to understand history. He learned nothing from WWI, WWII, Korea, Cuba, Vietnam, Cambodia, Bosnia, Somalia, or Rwanda for example. Americans expect our leaders to be intelligent. What we got with George Walker Bush was a dumb ass that cared little about the plite of refugee families or killing people.

By the time we reached New Jersey, we all had been up for close to 20 hours. To clear my mind and refresh my being, I would take copious breaths of 100% oxygen and direct gasper cooling air to my face. Between drinking the crappy MAC coffee and inundating my face with a cold washcloth, I performed the 5.5-hour flight without nodding off at all. I mean it was a matter of national security that I watch an oil pressure gauge for hours on end.

When the sun rose in the East, the light would envelop the cockpit and send a rush of vitamin D to my senses.

When the sun broke the eastern horizon, the crew looked on at the smoke of the collapsed Twin Towers from 35,000 feet and 100 miles. The smoke trail had to be 75 miles long as it wafted southward. We were crossing the Deleware river at the time. The smoke became a landmark of sorts and brought George Washington’s retreat into perspective. I would find out later that my great plus grandfather Captain Daniel Brodhead as second in command of the Nichols Expedition would disembark British Man-O-Wars and take New Amsterdam in 1664. In addition, another great uncle would defend Washington’s retreat across the East river after the defeat at the Battle of Long island.  All of these events were within blocks of the Twin Towers.

The collective effect of the sun and the view of the smoke trail would be a sobering experience. It brought clarity to the moment. After being up all night, the inherent adrenaline rush enabled me to run normal checklist items safely and competently until we landed and headed for crew rest. The Midnight Air Command had the mighty C-141 had done the job once again.

The FEMA assets, dogs, and dog handlers would be picked up by waiting vans. These patriots would head for ground zero and be subject to every manner of toxins, gasses, and carcinogens. They would not be the same ever again. As first responders, they would be putting their health and lives on the lines to save others. In return, when health issues would arise, the Federal government would have to be forced to support them. We saw this before. We saw it in Vietnam with Agent Orange, the first gulf war and chemical weapons, and now the Twin Towers tragedy.

The crews would head to billeting. We would be three to a room. To mitigate my loud snoring, I would get the portable bed and stick the head of it into the closet.

In hindsight, Bill Clinton’s foreign policy was a thing of beauty compared to Geroge Walker Bush and Barack Hussein Obama. Bill Clinton got a  righteous blowjob in the Whitehouse by a beautiful big titted  22 year old intern and led during solid economic times. George Walker Bush sodomized our Bill of Rights, fucked the Middle East, and left the economy in ruin. Bill Clinton lied about shooting a wonderful load. the only casualties were dried sperm on a blue dress.  George Walker Bush would lie about surveillance and WMD. He would then leave hundreds of thousands of dead Iraqis in his wake. Bill Clinton ran his own foreign policy. George Walker Bush let Dick Cheney and his special interest neocon donor list run his foreign policy. “Mission accomplished ” was not about deposing Saddam Hussein, it was about making money for the Bush neocon asshole donor list.

George Walker Bush and Barack Hussein Obama led the worst foreign policy in the history of the United States of America. Not only that, they spent $15 trillion in deficit spending. Barck Hussein Obama would go further by orchestrating the government takeover of health care which tripled health care policies for tax paying citizens. Then in order to validate the absconding of our 4th Amendment Rights and the massive computer surveillance complex, he imports utter tens of thousands of ISIS sleeper cell terrorists into this country. The collective incompetence is treasonous.

George Herbert Walker Bush was a solid president in the mold of Reagan. He used power sparingly and honored mandates.

George Walker Bush abused power, engaged in perpetual war, and created a massive surveillance state that is counter to the Bill of Rights. Instead of “read my lips.” the economy shit the bed.


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8312.5 South Park barbershop ceiling insulation R value



rear wall insulation:

The R value of the 1/2 foam insulation board is between 1.93 a 2.10. Other brands of the same material state 2.0 to 4.0

Here is a link to the product specification:


Ceiling insulation:

Please advise the inspector that there is an inch clearance between the existing ceiling and the 2 by 6 ceiling rafters. I lieu of pulling down 300 sqft of insulation, ask him if we can pull down a few rows and then feed 1/2 4 by 8 sheets of R2 foam insulation board.

The other scenario is pulling it down and then installing R23 from Lowes.

The final scenario is access areas to blow in insulation.






Broncos interview Kim Jong Un as quarterbacks coach

A desperate John Elway has turned to Kim Jong Un for the Denver Broncos Quarterbacks coach. During a conference call interview with the, Elway stated that while he wants to keep Siemian and Lynch around to compete next year, they need a little motivation. We then heard a little from Kim Jong Un about his tactics and strategies to enhance performance. Coach Kim stated, “when

Coach Kim stated, “when nimian and packsthon no make first down, I have my peepo rough him up a bit. When he thow incompretion, he get teeth pulled. He throw picumsix, well, you know what I mean… At that point, Elway started to back out on the deal and Coach Kim threatened nuclear retaliation.

The phone called ended when Coach Kim wanted a Papa Johns franchise to support three bowls of rice and fish heads a day for soldiers in his army. Just before Elway hung up, Coach Kim threatened to send Dennis Rodman over to his house. I know where you live he said.

Trevor Siemian and the Broncos end the season kicking the Raider’s ass

When Elway retired and Brian Griese took over as QB, the common statement of the day when the Broncos lost was. ” If we only had Elway!” Elway and company took our minds off the Colorado economy and gave us something to look forward to on Sundays and Mondays. They entertained us.

During the holidays, all the local uncles and aunts would come to the house, sit next to the fire and watch the Broncos. We were spoiled. We had no empathy for all the work professional Bronco athletes would go through. We did not feel pain when one of the team had to go into surgery for every manner of injury. We quickly forgot when a bronco player could no longer compete and was cut from the team. We did not care about how ex-Broncos make their way in life after it is over. We just wanted to be winners. When the Broncos win, Coloradans are winners. This winning pathos was conditioned into us since childhood.

Trevor Siemian ended the season on a solid note. Had it not been for a few play calls and copious penalties, Siemian would have ended the season at 11-5.

So, any of this defeatist talk about not being good enough has got to go. Elwood did not go defeatist after the Jacksonville loss, and Manning would be quite pissed and insulted if he heard the defeatist bullshit. As far as Kubiak, he has a legacy to protect and is going out a winner.

As it is, Trevor Siemian can reflect proudly on this season with the Broncos. He could have done better and he will do better.

At this juncture, I want to see Andy Reid win it all. Most Bronco fans are happy with 9 and 7 after a Superbowl win and season after season at the top of the AFC West. Just as the players, the Bronco fan based needs to be a little humbled. That way we appreciate wins a hell of a lot more. Then again, I am just an unknown insignificant individual whose opinion means absolutely nothing.

Stay the damn course trevor….

Sorry if I am such an ass.

Ok, wait until next year….

All is well in Broncoville…..

Thank you


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Gary Kubiak riding off into the sunset a winner

Gary Kubiak is truly a magnificent individual and a man of many means. He has effectively taken our minds off our mundane day to day tasks and entertained us. He helped put fire in our bellies and encouraged us to go forth without fear. He helped make Bronco talk Sunday at the water cooler a thing of glory. The halls of every school in Colorado are filled with Bronco jerseys with coach Kubiak not far from the minds of millions of budding Bronco fans.

His efforts united millions of folks across America and the globe as Bronco fans. He led by example and was a role model for our children.

The duo of Kubiak and Elway took our minds off the ups and downs of Colorado since the early 1980s. Gary Kubiak is a good man. Copious Thanksgivings and Christmas were spent watching the  Broncos next to a roaring fire, and after a robust meal. Kubiak goodness is welcomed and cherished in our homes. He is universally adored and respected.

Most of us are jealous of Gary Kubiak. He went from John Elway’s backup to an NFL coach and then came back to Denver to help win Superbowl 50. He has been in the NFL trenches developing and motivating athletes since 1983. Before the 1980s, he was a dedicated athlete from the time he discovered that it was up to him to wipe his own ass. The guy has been giving 110% to his craft and trade for 50 years of his life.

In most Bronco circles, Gary Kubiak is synonymous with John Elway. When Coloradans drive by Mile High stadium, Gary Kubiak, John Elway hold first positions of endearment in our minds. We could be sitting at a babbling Rockie mountain river having a BBQ, and once the Bronco talk starts, there will be Gary Kubiak occupying the wrinkles in our brains.

He has led by example and is a true pillar of society. His goodness and his quest for excellence are highly regarded by all Coloradans. He has nothing to prove.

After all these years of competition, Gary needs a break. He needs to be kind to his heart and relax. He needs to adore and cherish his family after years and years of patience, support, love, and devotion. Bronco fans will then not have to worry about him because he is a man of many means. He has that fire, motivation, and interaction skills that most of simply wish we had.

Sometimes the transition from the things that we love is very hard. We can either let the transition be anxiety for years or we can close that chapter and renew ourselves as soon as the door hits us in the ass. This is what Kubiak will do. He will continue to spread his kindness, and wonderful humanity and seek to nourish and develop the individual. That is who he is.

Kubiak is going out a winner and has nothing to prove in the NFL arena. Unlike thousands of coaches he has a proud legacy and a Bronco Superbowl win. He can breathe easy now because it his time…..

Most of us get an insignificant trinket when we retire. Our once dedicated and nourishing coworkers forget about us. We might find the remnants of our previous careers buried in our Facebook or a few Christmas cards. We are lucky to get a small retirement allowance.

Gary Kubiak will be part of Bronco history and part of the Bronco fan psyche for decades and decades and decades and decades to come. That is not too damn bad for a Texas Aggie.

Bronco fans wish you the best of health and take comfort in the fact that you will not have any regrets. We take comfort in the fact that you will move on and find something else that sustains you.  We know that unlike many NFL stars, you have made sound investments with the money you have earned, save for the future and live within your means. We know this will happen because you are a winner and a smart one at that. Great NFL warriors go on to be positive pillars of the community. We expect nothing less than positive personal mental health and contentment from Mr. Kubiak.

Ok it is time to talk about Christian McCaffrey.

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