April 15, 1997
Awoke at 0600. This double-sized hide-a-bed has certainly seen better days. I feel like the disgruntled princess that slept on a pea. In this case, however, the pea was more like three pipes under the two inch thick lumpy mattress. Coffee on. I began inputting Day 13 and 14 Updates while Ray slept in his sound proofed room, Bill and Higbee in the camper outside.
Right around 0700, civilian workers began walking, scraping and banging on our roof. The Base is refurbishing all of the quarters on base. We had seen a sign on our door warning us that there would be woodpeckers on our roof by 0730. Ray burst out of his room, frowning deeply under mussed hair, with his eyes squinting to the light of day. "What..." He barked. "...are you doing?!?" I looked up and laughed while pointing overhead with my thumb."Oh..." Ray staggered back into his room clutching earplugs in his hand and closed the door to the light. Bill and Higbee pushed the open door wide and entered. They too had been awakened by the roofers early morning activity. Bill made way for the coffee while Higbee popped the top on a V-8 can.
An hour later, I had the updates loaded and sent. Ray staggered out again and disappeared into the head. He seemed to be in better spirits now. The rest of us sipped coffee and just relaxed enjoying the downtime. We all wanted breakfast, but at any given moment, someone was missing, going about laundry or washing up or just gone. Finally we all were in one place at one time. Ray, following his jog around the base track, scrambled up some eggs, nuked bacon, and made toast. Higbee brought in some hot sauce to jazz up the eggs.
I called all of the prospective media contacts: the Daily Oklahoman, Linda M... got a voice mail tape; Dave H. of KOCO-TV (ABC, channel 5); Ann B. of KWTV-TV (CBS, channel 9); and the "TinkerTake-Off" newspaper.
In the early afternoon Bill and I went to the base Post Office to send a colorful postcard to Ray's son and exposed film to the Nashville folks of Dickel. These are photos from the beginning of the trip...good stuff. Hopefully, some of these can be put up onto the website.
Bill and I then drove to recon the static aircraft displays on base. These aircraft are right behind the Post Office and accessible for pictures. One of them looks like a Presidential aircraft (Air Force One), and would make a great background for our little adventurous whisky wagon. A B-47 and a C-47, both historic aircraft, are on display too. We decided to return later with Oscar for photos. The display is not far from our room and would be a good jog for Oscar to stretch his legs.
Bill and I returned to the room to find Higbee and Ray slothing it. We all needed this welcome break from the "Go, go, go" routine we have endured in the past. It may not sound difficult moving anaverage of 100 miles a day, but it is. With all of the stops and media and meeting plain good folks. We haven't taken near as many pictures as we should have due to the press of time and logistics. Higbee asked for a three-day briefing then jotted down notes as I read through our downloads and media sheets.
Ray, our Den Mother, perked up suggesting a food run. We all contributed suggestions for tonight's meal and any other need we could think of. Our heads are fuzzy from "Road Grog". Higbee put on his "Banker's" hat, opened the kitty and counted our combined cash. "We need to feed the kitty." Higbee looked around the room at all of us. Each time we feed the kitty, we put in $100 apiece. This is a good arrangement. Each of us has an assigned necessary duty and have assumed a collateral duty as well. This crew is running well; at least we haven't killed one of our own... yet.
Ray and Bill kept running back and forth to the laundry checking on the drying clothes. Bill had become confused due to the multiple settings on the dryers and had his undies set on fluff dry. They were taking forever to dry. I looked up to see a form move across the front window. Ray entered with his arms stacked high with dried clothing. We began flapping and folding the hot laundry. Bill grumbled in the background lamenting his fluff drying delay.
Later, The Banker, Den Mother, and Grumbles left for the Commissary to resupply our larder. I stayed behind to make phone calls and catch up on admin stuff. When they returned, Higbee was singing the praises of a new cigar he had found, Swisher Sweets "Outlaw". Keep in mind, he eats them more than smokes them, then leaves them about on the ground for Bill to find. Every time Bill finds one of these soggy, brown jewels, he points with a smile and makes a colorful comment regarding a stray dog. We just look up then shine him on, we hear this same comment endlessly. Bill persists anyway, undeterred by our blank looks and lack of replies.
The sun had moved into the golden light time of day: perfect for photographs. I drove Oscar over to the static aircraft displays and nuzzled him up under the wing of the B-47 first. The we moved near the C-47, but couldn't get too close due to all of the grass planted about the old "Gooney Bird". The Beast, B-29, was next. Oscar backed right up to the nose wheel to simulate towing the huge mass of historic aluminum and Plexiglas. The last aircraft at which we stopped was a 747 looking thing painted bright blue and white with "United States of America" sprawled across the upper fuselage.
This last photo has many connotations. It looks like Oscar is waiting for a President. Oscar and I puttered through the late afternoon traffic of the base on our way back to the billet. Many folks waved, gave a thumbs up or mouthed, "I saw you on TV!". What a hoot.
Back at the room, Bill's sister-in-law, Vida O., and niece, Cecilia, had dropped in. They both live right here in Oklahoma City, OK. Vida invited us over tomorrow night for a barbeque. "Great!" We gave them rides in Oscar, broke out the key fobs and brochures. Higbee had barbequed a chunk of $1.69 a pound meat on his portable fire pit out in front of the room. Vida and Cecilia shuffled about then decided to leave as Higbee and Ray cut meat, set the table then sat like stones in their chairs.
Bill walked them to their car, bid them adios and watched them drive away. By the time he returned to the room, the three of us near the food had already dove in. Bill moved into the chair against the wall, reached for what was left and dug in.
Following our sumptuous meal, everyone looked and acted surprisingly like recently fed monitor lizards... bellies bulging, eyes half closed and motionless for about an hour. We were a quartet of stuffed, satisfied, wine sipping gourmets.
Mr. Fastidious, Ray, sprang to his feet and began his Den Mother routine. Bill sat back to watch him while Higbee and I fell face first into our empty plates. Ray continued to prance about cleaning, wiping and straightening up. Bill had pushed himself to his feet, made it to the sink and began washing the dishes. That was the end of the dish soap. Bill even rinsed out the small bottle to extract the last drop clinging to the inner surface.
Ray's burst of energy sapped any animation from the rest of us. We moved to the couch, chair and floor in front of the TV to watch the Weather Channel through three complete cycles. At that point, Higbee suggested picking up a video movie, "The Ghost in the Darkness". I mentioned that I thought I had seen videos over at the shopette just across the street from our room. Higbee disappeared through the door and returned moments later with a video. The rest of us were still staring with glassy eyes at the Weather Channel. "They didn't have The Ghost in the Darkness, so I got this one..." He held up "The Chamber" with Gene Hackman. I remember the beginning and the end. Somewhere in the middle of the film I fell asleep on the lumpy couch. Our Den Mother had covered me with a thin, synthetic wool blanket from the room inventory. After the movie, we all peeled off and hit the racks. Man, this life is good. We could really get spoiled here with all of the amenities of civilization including indoor running water.
I drifted of to sleep on a single-wide fold out bed from what looked like an overstuffed livingroom chair. My last thoughts were fragmented images regarding the media contacts for tomorrow, none of them had returned our earlier calls.