The local Red Baron

Author's note: Here's another random "from the archives" post.  This is from May 6, 2007.  It's more of a "personal reminiscience" type post, more in keeping with the "personal journal" nature of a blog than my usual subject matter.  But hey, it's my website, so I can post whatever the heck I want.

I live in Corning. It's a small city in central New York, about 30 minutes from the Pennsylvania border. As locations for software developers and other technologists go, it's not quite in the middle of nowhere, but it's close.

However, there are still advantages to be had. For example, there are the air shows. It just so happens that the Elmira/Corning regional airport is also the location of the National Warplane Museum (note: that has changed - now it's the Wings of Eagles), and the airport just happens to be across the street from the local mall. So when we went shopping on Sunday, we got a nice view of the day's airshow while we were driving around. The part we saw was a bright red biplane doing loops, barrel rolls, flying in low over the highway exit. It was actually very cool. I wish I'd had a camera....

Commentary: I remember watching this plane as my wife and I walk though the parking lot of the Tops supermarket in the plaza across the street from the mall.  I don't remember exactly why we were there (it wasn't our normal market) or what we'd done before, but I do remember that it was a sunny afternoon and I kept looking up at the red biplane doing loops and barrel rolls overhead.  It was a symbol of freedom - rolling unfettered through the blue sky, no cares about what was going on below.  I was a little jealous - I'd been feeling trapped in a job that I increasingly disliked and I wanted to be like that plane.

It's funny how images like that will stick with you sometimes.  It's been seven years, but I still remember that plane, even though I don't remember any of the context.  In fact, the only other thing I remember doing that day was working in my garden and thinking about that plane.  Perhaps it's not a coincidence that my garden was one of my main sources of escapism....

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