As a young boy living on top of the Sandia heights of New Mexico.  We literally were living at the highest altitude within the Albuquerque district.  I noticed that my father's health was on an elite level in order to withstand the G forces from making turns and the whiplashing turbulence flying as fast as he had in the Vietnamese Conflict.  His muscles looked rough and gnarled, and his body fat percentage was well-under 2 percent. I really don't think you could believe how healthy this guy was.  He was a madman when he ran for fun all the time when he was home and in his marathons.  He truly ran marathons just like how some men drink alcohol.  And, he was a madman in his aircraft cockpits in the Vietnam War.  Top 40 in his Naval Academy class of 1965 with a degree in electrical engineering.  Selected for A-4 Skyhawk training and then carefully chosen from that community for A-7 Corsair II training.  298 complete bombing missions completed, most of them with multiple sorties (a "waypoint" in military jargon) flown for the U.S. Navy inside attack jets -- the hardest and most dangerous plane to fly with 10k, 12k and 13k pound bombing loads, not missile loads over Hanoi and other parts of the battlefield.  No not missiles.  No no no.  Bombs!  These things were heavy under the wings, and they always affected maneuverability greatly. This was seen by the casualty of a top-quality pilot, John McCain and his aircraft, an A-4.  My father flew both the A-4 Skyhawk and the A-7 Corsair II.  

The A-7 was one of those peculiar looking aircraft and, many of the pilots of the A-7 often said it was underpowered, because it was often unable to get the remaining bombs back to a safe altitude. I don't know why he had reason to try to kill me with narcotics. 600 to 700 knots was often a max speed on his missions to the Capitol, Hanoi and elsewhere. He had every reason to be happy, and so did Jean, my stepmother, because she was with my father, Richard, and I had no problems with them being together.  Like I said. Never in my life did I think that my father, a man who flew airplanes and was a Naval Officer and had one of the most illustrious military careers in the history of mankind.

They wanted my father to fLy That: and my Father wanted to FLyyyyyy it into my mouth. 3k nmph: and my Father was prepared to fLie it. LOL faster than a BlackBird. B-B-b-bird is the word. I just figured it out, yesss i've dun, ... it. No wonder why he ran so much. And someone couLd've knocked him around a bit because of that.