The Blue Angels, that is. It's Fleet Week again in San Francisco. The noise of the low-flying jets over the city makes dogs and liberals crazy, but I think they're beautiful.
(The jets, not the liberals.)
My dad was a Navy pilot who stayed in the Reserve after the war. One Saturday while he was away on active duty, my mom made us kids stand out in the backyard and look up at the sky. A single jet flew over and dipped its wings. It was Dad.