Not A Job, A Career

By W.R. Jones


    I don’t have a job.   I have a career.  As one of America’s foremost fighter test pilots; just a sec … oh yeah, that’s only what I tell the ladies when I’ve been drinking.  Ok, well I think being a senior janitor at the middle school is also vital to our national defense.  Ok, the senior part is due to my age and not my janitorial skills, still.

    I don’t even know why I bother with that fighter pilot line.  It has never worked.  But I read somewhere it is a matter of numbers; eventually someone will believe me and be impressed.  The last time I used it the woman was apparently some sort of mathematician.  After another failure I mentioned the number theory and asked her how big she thought that number might be.  She asked me if I was at all familiar with the concept of infinity. 

    While painting this landscape a father and his young son came into the area to launch rockets.  His son was much to young to get knowedgeable pleasure out of the process so this was mainly for daddy. 

    I remember my father trying my new red plastic model airplane one Christmas.  They did not have remote control in those days.  You controlled the flight (such as it was) with a handle connected to the airplane through two long strings.  You and the plane would go round and round until you threw up and the plane went into the side of the family Buick.  We never got that far.  After an hour or so of getting his finger whacked by the propeller dad got the little engine started.   Father (Orville) Jones then did the maiden flight.  I watched in awe as the plane ascended in a lovely arc and wrapped the control strings around and around the power lines.  The little red plane looked quite lovely hanging up there out of reach.   I got a train the following Christmas. 

This entry was posted in Landscape, Painting, Plein Air. Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to Not A Job, A Career

  1. grfxho says:

    I like the background/skyline in this one a lot. What is the red thing in the grass though?

  2. wrjones says:

    It is supposed to be a distant rooftop buy may look more like my lost little red airplane.

  3. grfxho says:

    Ah, I thought it was closer than that. I keep looking at the area of the background toward the center of the mountain… I like the way you did the 3-D aspect of the mountainside, the hazy roll-and-fold kind of texture in the lighter area.

    When the I view the painting small, I thought the red was a rooftop. When I viewed it larger, I started to think maybe it was something closer.

  4. kevmoore says:

    I think the red object is Santa’s decapitated head following an assault by contract ninjas hired by a disgruntled child who only received sackcloth and ashes for Christmas. The FBI and CIA were said to be standing shoulder to shoulder on this investigation, which is more than Santa, being only a head , can now do. I apologise for an overly-active imagination due to an o.d. of caffeine.

  5. wrjones says:

    Damn Kevin, take a little warm milk and a short nap.

    I have to say you rockers know how to get some vision distance out of your drugs.

    I think the problem is the roof top is not in proportion to the distance. Or, that could just be Santa’s fat head up there.

  6. kevmoore says:

    I was thinking Bill, perhaps you could dispense with the Fighter Pilot angle, and go for the long and distinguished career as a rocker? Pick a suitably obscure 60s/70s “cool” rock act, perhaps one that’s had a Roger Dean album cover design, and construct a false history including yourself. I could send you some old backstage passes and ripped tour t shirts to add gravitas to the deception and before you know it,you’ll be followed around by your very own Bebe Buell and Pamela des Barges wannabes 24/7.

  7. wrjones says:

    This is exactly why I started blogging. Waiting for someone to point out this opportunity. This can work. I’ll belt out a few bars of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Follow that up with a little wiffle dust about how that particular song was unreleased due to our world tour commitments and a command performance for the Queen. Then I’ll tell her Michael Jackson and I are personal friends. Maybe Michael Jackson is not the best choice for name dropping.

  8. grfxho says:

    Good grief. The last thing Bill needs is MORE ideas. His head is full enough as it is.

  9. 100swallows says:

    Just last Sunday I was watching them fly remote-controlled planes up at the castle. I had gone there to muse awhile–usually there’s no one around. But the model airplane people have discovered the cliffs now and there was all that buzzing, like dinosaur flies.I finally gave up bitching to myself and went over to talk to them. Those are nifty little toys now–ever seen one, Bill? The guys flying them were all over thirty. Their wives were standing there the whole time watching. I guess they enjoy the outing and the spectacular view of the Tagus Valley.

  10. wrjones says:

    From the cliffs they might have also been flying gliders. I’ve seen the powered models but now I’m interested in the hand sized helicopters that you can fly indoors. They are available for $20-$50 so if I wreck it no big deal, unless I fly it into the dog – then very big deal; I’ll be moving to England to excape the wrath.

  11. gypsy-heart says:

    I love your plein air paintings!

    Fighter pilot? Hmmm…Female fighter pilot sounds pretty good…eh? See this is why I need the wine before the conversations…BS in a bottle.
    You may be a bad influence Bill…I stay in enough trouble as it is!

  12. wrjones says:

    Female fighter pilot sounds REAL good. However as a female it is unnecessary. All you have to do is be yourself to attract men. There was a study done where an attractive woman went into a bar and started a conversation with different men (at different times). After a short talk and a drink she would ask them if they wanted to go out to the parking lot and have sex. This was tried on 30 men and all 30 said OK. Actually they most likely said HELL YA. When the same experiment was done using a handsome man talking to 30 different women, none of them would do it. Over a period of years I myself have repeated that last experiment on maybe 30000 with the exact same results. Meanwhile I think all those drinks have blown my liver.

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