P-38

I have invented a big vision concerning this P-38 propeller given to me (on loan). I believe P-38's were lightning climbers, firepower capable for land and air. Dealing in crushing blows to sea and land transports. I gather that a few tanks were also decimated during WW2 as well. So, one day, my little homie and I were getting dandelions from the field. Picking them for fixing dandelion wine. We happened up against a P-38 prop. Twas' partially buried in the soil. I couldn't believe my eyes. "Where and how," little homie asked. I was speechless from head to toe. She knew this was a true artifact. An Allied propeller, discarded, right here in our little field of dreams. I don't know why I never nicked it with my 42" cut Craftsman mower. Nevertheless, here it rested on the grassy knoll under the Leyland Cypress' that border the driveway. Each time I discarded my banana peel under a Leyland (every morning) I never caught a glimpse of the prop. I thought of the history of our farmette (small plantation I like calling it) and previous owners and their relation to my newly found war relic. This thang gave flight, gave air superiority to us as in US. It was the essential cog to air superiority and intimidation on the fronts. It gave the death knell to tanks and the Axis. Here we are, holding it and rediscovering it, giving it another chance to speak a legacy of knowledge as part of our farmette's history. A true warrior from the Army Air Corps must have had storage and a story for it.

REMIX: We took a moment to take out our P-38 propeller from the garage. Isabella and I flexed for a moment for the camera. She held the ferociously undefeated "Piglet." I held a piece of a fork-tailed devil from the pages of WW2. I would never like to find myself in a dog fight with either.