"I'm really thankful to God for looking out for me there ...

... Um, yeah, Esso's been really supportive, my friends, [?] I'm really thankful for all that."

God was busy. Angels helped you. Did you feel them do what they could?

Humbling innit. You actually flew.

Oh to be young. And survive a near-death experience. This sort of thing stays with you. Forever.

"I flew, Mum. I actually flew!"

Now he knows how birds feel. Those first landings can be terrifying. 

I used to buy paper kites all the time on base at the BX. Bashed them all up. They were cheap. Made my own kites from the pieces. Bought sticks and paper and made my own kites. Kites all over the place. Kites all the time. I was obsessed. I wanted to be in one. I flew them all the time and dreamed of being in the kite. 

How ridiculous.

But then a movie came out, I think it was The Great Race, at the beginning when they're introducing the characters, all eccentrics, but I didn't know that. I thought they were all reasonable people, but one of them was being flown in a kite when his invitation arrived and I was all, "See? See? See? The whole idea isn't so outrageous." While the whole point in the movie was to show each character as crazy. I didn't know that. He was wearing Chinese clothes, I think. The kite idea was Chinese. I think. 

My dad gave me a bolt of string. Just the thing that I needed. I was determined to use the whole bolt to fly my little kite.

I took my new handmade kite and my bolt of string and went out to the open field that used to be a Japanese airport in WWII. Then it was American housing. Momote Village. Lots of extra ground that went unused. Very wasteful in Tokyo. With Mt. Fuji in the background. Is that romantic, or what? 

I didn't know until the string was fully unrolled off the bolt that the weight of string was too much for the kite. I should have intuited that by the weight of bolt of sting as a bolt and weighing that against the small kite. But I didn't. I should have realized back then that fishing line is the way to go for long distance kites. But I didn't. Not until I unwound the entire bolt of string. 

I actually wound the string back onto the bolt as it's done back and forth while rotating automatically by machine.

Thank you, Dad. You're the best!

What a trial for you it must have been to raise such a dopey little kid. 

Was it fun? Just to see the stupid shit we would do? 

One must have the patience of Job to raise five children. We were all little dopes. The whole time, nothing but dopes. And all of his effort went into straightening us out. All of his effort was for us.

Truly, a family man who devoted his life to us.

Looking back on it, we were his life. We were his reason for being. None of us knew that. For we were all little dopes. 

It was actually stretched out longer than this but I must fit it into this space. The real representation would be this height with the length of the whole room. 

The point is the weight of the string prevented the kite from gaining altitude. 

And there went my whole idea of flying in a kite with a rope. 

Until the Rogallo wing was invented. No rope. Your weight balances the kite. You're much more like a bird.

Your weight hanging off the kite, not tied onto the kite. 

One time in hang gliding class on Green Mountain before the McMansons were built up there, right where I-70 forms a bend and crosses westernmost 6th avenue near Golden, immediately beside Dinosaur Ridge and Red Rocks Park, an old man appeared in our class on the hill.

A very old man.

Like, a million years old. Possibly fifty or maybe sixty years old. 

He blew our minds. WTF was Popeye the sailor man doing taking hang gliding classes?

So we asked him. "WTF are you doing here?" 

He told us, "I always wanted to fly like a bird." 

That was our reason exactly. 

His mind was our minds. He was us. He showed us our dream never dies. He showed us how we can be when we get his age. He showed us that our dream is ageless. He was instant hero to us. Just for being there. He was immediately accepted as one of us. Even though he was old as Green Mountain. 

So it's not just me being insane at twenty-five. No. It's everyone like me being crazy at all ages. Having Popeye the very old sailor man out there with us reaffirmed our connection with humanity not just now but down through the ages. Nuts like use always wanted to fly like a bird. 

Even though we grew up on Air Force bases and lived with pilots all our lives. Even though we were pushed into the Civil Air Patrol before we could drive a car. All those people did not fly as birds do. Their flights, no matter how stupendous are not intimate with the air as with the birds. They don't fly with their bodies; their own wings. 

Maybe Pegasus is a better example. 

Hang gliding is exciting in each of its moments. Just being in the shop for our first lessons where the kites are repaired, then the first hour on the hill inserting the battens into the wings, we're thinking, "Jesus Christ, here we are together, we're actually putting together the kite we'll be in." 

Then holding the kite as a kite and feeling it capture the wind and fly in your hands. The kite comes alive! The wind is alive! Goddamnit, the wind is alive! It has pulse. It jerks like a horse pulling on reins. You have to fight with the kite and tilt it just so, such that it flies, and when you tilt it beyond or not enough then it drops like a rock. A dead rock. Dead weight in your hands. You tilt it back and it flies again light as a feather, strong as a flying horse. 

Flies, rock, flies, rock, flies, rock, flies, rock, back and forth you feel the life that exists in the wind. Your body connects with the wind and you are filled to the brim with excitement just being out there on the training slope playing with your gigantic kite as playing with Pegasus, and becoming connected with wind. 

Hang gliding is exciting at every stage of the process. Fully exciting. More exciting than skiing black diamond slopes that is so near to flying. It's a thing that lasts forever. It satisfies a longing of all of humanity through the ages. It does to you what happened to Samuel Foster in this video, if a little less brutally and by inviting it. Either way, Samuel will never forget this. It's a spiritual experience. One that is deeply moving. (No pun.) Samuel has this video of the day he went flying with God and lived to be thankful.