We spent the weekend enjoying the air show at Elmendorf Air Force Base. I love air shows. My father took me to many as a child, as well as countless trips to Torrance airport to look at planes, peek inside hangers when possible, and occasionally feed the foxes with bags of raw chicken.
The line getting into Elmendorf was surreal. I didn't know that many cars existed in Alaska. There were easily three prongs, a mile long, of cars converging at the base entrance off Boniface. I felt a combination of blessed and elicit (as well as a total Air Force wannabe) for heading to the Mountain View entrance of the base with my 30 day pass and driving on in under five minutes. I sincerely don't think we could have made it through that line. Bethany was already protesting her time in her car seat. She doesn't do lines one bit.
The kids had fun playing at a particularly exciting tree and covering their ears while the jets roared overhead. I held the baby close to me, blocking one ear with my chest and the other with a blanket. Note to anyone pondering such things: those little florescent orange ear plugs, of which I brought many, don't fit into four- or six-year-old ears, and certainly not the six-month version either.
Here is some goofy film footage of my children (WARNING: You may, after reading this blog for awhile, realize that this is very much a child-centered blog and you are under no obligation to endure film footage if you find it utterly boring).
The line getting into Elmendorf was surreal. I didn't know that many cars existed in Alaska. There were easily three prongs, a mile long, of cars converging at the base entrance off Boniface. I felt a combination of blessed and elicit (as well as a total Air Force wannabe) for heading to the Mountain View entrance of the base with my 30 day pass and driving on in under five minutes. I sincerely don't think we could have made it through that line. Bethany was already protesting her time in her car seat. She doesn't do lines one bit.
The kids had fun playing at a particularly exciting tree and covering their ears while the jets roared overhead. I held the baby close to me, blocking one ear with my chest and the other with a blanket. Note to anyone pondering such things: those little florescent orange ear plugs, of which I brought many, don't fit into four- or six-year-old ears, and certainly not the six-month version either.
Here is some goofy film footage of my children (WARNING: You may, after reading this blog for awhile, realize that this is very much a child-centered blog and you are under no obligation to endure film footage if you find it utterly boring).
And here's some YouTube footage that has a few minutes too:
More later with some unabashed patriotism on my part. Get ready! (You may want to cover your eyes later.)
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