(Oh, about Survivor: the challenge will go out this Saturday and be due the next Saturday to return to our previously scheduled schedule. A few posted this preference, and another agreed on email, saying a break might be nice so he didn’t have to think about the game for a few days.)

Right on time!

Anyway, I do have a series of excuses, but whatever. It’s no biggie. The next theme is BIG BUSINESS, and I expect to post a week from today, but obviously, it could be longer.

8/17: bhiggum

It was a short flight, about a quarter mile, that lasted just under a minute.
The wings were adequate, but the lack of a tail forced a rough landing in the N.C. sand, causing significant damage.
“Flightless, my ass!” crowed Wilbur, strutting around the shattered wreckage strapped to the spent rocket.
Orville morosely replied, “Gonna need a new penguin.”

8/24: nibbish

I asked God to be able to fly. Being the benevolent deity that he is, he told me that my wish had been granted.
As I joyfully jumped off the skyscraper to test my new ability, I noticed something in the almighty’s hand.
Airline tickets? How was I to know that Jehovah had such a sick sense of humor?

9/16: spookymilk

I white-knuckle the hand rests. I’m married. I have kids. The turbulence intensifies. My wife’s always angry. My son has special needs and I’m no help. The wind screams outside. We’re going down. I’m on the verge of divorce, it seems. My daughter is sixteen and pregnant.

We pull out of the turbulence.

I’m alive. I’m glad. I am.