I apologize for my lack of consistent blogging. Over the weekend I made an unexpected trip to California for my Grandfathers funeral. He was 93 years old and had a successful career as a pilot. Staying in his house was strange and haunting and my time in between gatherings was spent treasure hunting though the many rooms in the house trying to learn more about him on a personal level. I spent hours in the basement dressed in vintage furs and army hats picking through photos dating back to the early 1900s, liquor bottles left on the bar from the 1960s, and god knows what else. The view was amazing. It was so strange to be in such a spacious place surrounded by trees and hills and birds after waking up in Manhattan every day for the last 6 months. It all felt sort of surreal. It was the most exposure I've ever had to my Grandfathers world and soon I'll be making another trip back to help my mother take care of all the business the comes from losing a relative.
For now, enjoy this little glimpse into a world of airplanes, travel, golf, catholicism, and retro americana.
RIP Grandpa Ken.