Marjorie and I had breakfast out a couple days ago.  An aircrew in flight suits ( aka green bags). Were also eating at the restaurant.   I went to their table. Thanked them for their service and further made their day by telling them I was in their position about 60 years ago.  They could share a “dinosaur” sighting with their buddies later.

Of course it’s an old fart’s musing, but I truly miss being involved in something important.  It’s what I loved about airlift—If there was a crisis somewhere, there was a C-130 or 141 aircrew guy in a green bag there (war threats, earthquakes, floods, etc). 
So one of my “mosts” for our geezer lunch is the most exciting, interesting, and challenging period of my life was 1962-1967 when I was an air lifter.  Remember, I was in my twenties and therefore immortal and pretty ignorant about world affairs.