Tamaki wasn’t like other Alphas. He was quiet, shy, and not very confident. But there was something that showed he was not only an Alpha, but one of the most protective Alphas in the world. Once you told him you were pregnant, he refused to leave your side. You two were just out of UA, yet you were married, living together, and were both pro heroes in the top five ranks.
“Hydro, fans want to know the gender of the baby!”, “Hydro, Hydro! Over here! Smile!”, “Hydro! Do you and Suneater know if you’re expecting multiples!”, “Hydro, any comments on when you’ll be back to heroism?!” The news reporters yelled at you, flashing cameras in your face and yelling at you, using your hero name. “P-please stop!” you yelled, your voice weak and dry from not drinking water recently. “P-please stop yelling.”
April 11, 1970
Apollo 13 Commander James Lovell, pictured at the prelaunch breakfast with astronaut Fred Haise. Lovell made his 4th spaceflight and Apollo 13 was his second mission to the Moon. Note Lunar Module Pilot Fred Haise wore a NASA-issued Omega Speedmaster 105.003
without crown guards, while Commander James Lovell wore an Omega Speedmaster on a 1960s Holzer bracelet. (Photo: NASA)
Astronaut John Jack Swigert during altitude chamber tests with a NASA-issued Speedmaster strapped over the A7L spacesuit. Swigert replaced Ken Mattingly, who was exposed to Rubella - German measles, as Command Module Pilot for the Apollo 13 mission. As a CMP Swigert would orbit the Moon and conduct scientific oservations from lunar orbit. Jack Swigert was the first to wear a personal Rolex wristwatch on an Apollo mission, as he choose to wear his Rolex GMT-master 1675 Pepsi bezel pilot wristwatch to the Moon & back. In this way, Apollo tribute week also celebrates 50 years Rolex-in-space ! (Photo: NASA)
Apollo 13 Commander James Lovell
practices deploying the U.S. Flag during EVA training in the Flight Crew
Training Building at the Cape in Florida. However the planned landing in the Fra Mauro highlands,
a region composed of ejecta from the impact that formed Mare Imbrium, was never
to be. Lovell was the first to make 4 spaceflight missions and the first to fly twice to the Moon… Note the NASA-issued Omega Speedmaster chronograph at his right hand, as Lovell
preferred to wear the Speedmaster on his right wrist. The Fra Mauro region was visited by the Apollo 14 crew in January 1971.
Apollo 13 Lunar Module Pilot Fred Haise assumed an
old-fashioned rest position during a short break in a lunar EVA training
simulation exercises for the third
intended Moon landing mission. Note the NASA-issued Omega Speedmaster chronograph on
long velcro strap over the right forearm of the A7L space suit. (Photo: NASA)
Fans of Omega WUSB /
Ω+know that our deluxe winter broadcasts are our holiday. The stand-alone bonus industrial plays and noise broadcasts in our beginning years (excluding our Halloween broadcasts) later morphed into our deluxe “darkness” slots which we’ve featured for a few years now. What better music to play during those cold, dark, frigid months? We wait all year to unleash new and recent finds in darkwave, synthwave, and coldwave because it’s our element. (Not taking away everything else we play on our show, obviously.) Could be that some of our contacts and followers come from there and we’re forever grateful. Last year we found Los Angeles’ Aurat’s self-titled 2017 e.p. and their rarity and distinctiveness got us. We loved the combination of goth-punk and darkwave with female vocals sung in Urdu, so we ended up featuring “Ilzam” on one of our recent darkness sets. We’re back again and we found “Kya Hua”. How did we pass that one up? Shame on us. It’s right up our road and Aurat gets an instant win for our next deluxe winter show.
We been doing at least one darkness broadcast every winter until Year Six / Winter 2018 when we started doing two since. Sorry, everyone…you’ll just have to wait (us, too) until January to see what we’ll have in store for you. We hope you’ll be there.
It’s the only song I know of theirs, right after I started
listening to Q104.3 FM. It was my senior year at Brentwood and I all but signed
up to alternative music. That was a bet I placed on my first day in junior year
that paid out in more ways than one and then some, and now we’re here. Just
like I won new friends in Plainview, I won even more at home. With these new friends
came with meeting new girls. More opportunities sitting on the grass across from
the cute Jewish brunettes from rival schools. Best friends with a sense of
humor right out of MTV’s The State. Short skirts, color hair, and piercings. Maturity on the decline; welcome to the club.
May ended in a weird bi-polar fashion. I experienced the
worst of Cath- on a Tuesday afternoon ride from her Riverhead campus
during a heavy torrential down-pour. Her opiate withdrawals were enough to
scream and kick away on my passenger side’s console all the way home; irritable that the money
she got from selling her books wasn’t enough and she was ram-rodding ma’ on her iPhone but she wasn’t picking up. Our ride was over and she was raging as I never seen her before, yelling and screaming in frustration in a race against a creeping dope-sickness. It prompted me to trail her to the bank, withdraw some money and hand it over to her, after which she opened the trunk and gave me some vinyl records before driving away. No goodbyes. Wednesday came and Cath- came up
from her head back down to blood once again. Her ma’ and dad opened the front
door, happy to see me with warm smiles on their faces as their daughter slowly
hobbled down feeling like garbage. It was the first time meeting them and they seemed pretty white-bread. Dad was a national defense contractor and ma’ was a school nurse. Both held it up as best they could and more as their daughter was crumbling and rotting by the day. After swapping introductories, talk of future ambitions, and some more smiles, I say my goodbyes to her folks as Cath- and I ride to
the campus’studios for my radio show where she would start her apology tour.
June’s here. Cath- and I are still very much in business going out to eat and walking around with whatever free time we scrounge up. One okay grey day we decided to ride out to West Babylon’s Looney Tunes. It’s our first day out at a record-store together. Cath-’s in the passenger seat as always with The Smiths in the background. Unlike my last ex- before her, she had better taste in music and didn’t force it upon me in every aspect of my life. A good thirty minutes later and we arrive at Long Island’s most awarded music store. She needed a few minutes for a smoke before walking in. That was my opportunity to ask her about recent posted of her travels in the six years we since met. Why in the fuck was she doing sexual favors with total strangers in abandoned railways and underpasses she’s only met 10 minutes after the fact? She was always about that brutal up-front honesty and kept it real when it came to putting pen on paper, telling me in a nonchalant manner. A somewhat more palatable story of hers: one day when she was living with her other family in Philadelphia, she took the 30th Street Amtrak to Penn Station, then the Ronkonkoma line to her house, arrived home, ran in, grabbed her shit in ten minutes, ran out, took the Ronkonkoma line to Penn Station, and finally back to Philadelphia. A six-hour journey back-and-forth without even saying “hi” to her family back home and for what? Daily drug money, of course. At least this narrative mostly washed out the disgusting taste of envisioning these sleazy disgusting unknowns having their way with girl you’re with. Her cigarette was over. Come in, time to shop.
First the used punk-rock section. With only six bins, it was quick perusal for us. Judging by the name and cover, I guess you could say that the Christ Child LP was mine? Another find: The Tom Robinson Band. Punk or not punk? I never heard of him. Let’s ask someone who might. “Hmmmm…don’t know who he is but looks to me like it could be punk, punk rock. I think it’s more rock than punk, a little.Definitely a little bit of punk but more rock.” Well…there you have it! But something in the racks I knew I was certain of:Lead Into Gold‘s Chicks & Speed: Futurism. Finally, my first Paul Barker solo catch. Cath- was happy for me. We then stumbled upon The Clash’s Sandinista! with a $15.00 sticker price, which flicked on something in her head. She sold a copy to me along with the other Clash albums that weren’t Cut The Crap and about ten others records she offered me. She told me that it was a rare album of hers and I should’ve paid more for it, more like $30.00. I laughed. Not necessarily so, sweetheart. It’s the Clash. They’ve sold millions of everything. But as an addict, you try to game your friends and loved ones just a little bit more. She got a little edgy with me and that’s when I pulled back from another potential conflict that I never want. Minutes later, she left to go to the restroom. I went back to our trusty record-store clerk and asked what the rarity and going price for Sandinista! really was. Turned out I was right. Too many out there to count unless any seller would even care to grade it for that much money. +1 for me. I saw her come out of the bathroom and that conversation ended dead.
Now the used jazz / fusion bins. It’s my personal duty to keep chasing that single-digit Brooklyn youth of mine. With only two horizontal shelves near the windows, it’d be pretty quick. At least these unfamiliars and misses wouldn’t cost me as much as the “punk” records would. I got some safe bets in Maynard Ferguson, Bobbi Humphrey, and Hank Crawford. Everything else I might have read or heard or seen about thirty-times before in other record-stores I picked up. Jean-Luc Ponty, Jeff Lorber, Lenny White, Horace Silver, Charles Lloyd, and a wild card in one of the Wildflowers series. You know it’s comforting when you see that Mumbo SSK typeset on the jacket. Cath- never asked me about these records and I wish she did, because she would’ve been the one person who’d understand me right there.
During our searching, The Buzzcocks’ “Ever Fallen In Love…(With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve)” played on the overhead. It was fucking heaven. It was a few years before that I bought Operator’s Manual at Tower Records before they closed down and that song was the one standout for me. It was also during that time when Cath- and I finally met each other, a time during the Stony Brook era which was everything to me. A couple of younger girls looked at me over my enthusiasm for The Buzzcocks and what the fuck do they know outside of Justin Bieber and The Jonas Brothers? Both Cath- and I kept looking a little bit more. She met herself a row of some John Frusciante albums which got our attention. One of her only donations to me were his first two albums
Niandra LaDes And Usually Just A T-Shirt and Smile From The Streets You Hold but I already had them. Since the Frusicante platters caught her eye, I offered to buy one for her, like I bought her Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 CD when we first met, but she kindly refused.
approached the John Lennon / Plastic Ono Band
debut, a record she mentioned that her brother, a huge Beatles fan, was in the hunt for. Once again, I pitched. Her? Swing and a miss.
An hour in and I’m feeling a crunch on my shoulders. It was nice for Cath- to come and walk around with me in one of the most awesome places you could take someone to, but she wasn’t here to buy anything nor did she. I was. She trailed only to observe me and I felt bad because I felt I was leaving her behind. I wasn’t. It’s best that both parties are equals in browsing and buying rights for themselves. It shouldn’t be all about you. That’s why I made this a quick visit for punk and jazz / fusion finds and not a three-hour affair between me and the bins. We’re on line, Cath-. Speak now or forever hold your piece until the next time. $41.00 later, we’re done.
Cath- was feeling hungry and we still had time to spend. We walked to the opposite end of the shopping center to sit for grilled cheese and chicken sandwiches. At least the subject matter was much more palatable and less brown. She was a New York Mets fan. Historically they’re the whipping boys of major-league baseball who could almost never seem to get it right. So I asked her why she was a fan. “All my life I’ve always rooted for the underdog” she replied. The willing participant puts herself through these things in more ways than one.