Quote:
Originally Posted by Vital Signs
...you'd be gone in a heartbeat.
Your heart says "lub-dub." Before the first "b" there would be a rush of wind as the air filled the void left by my departing body.
"Where'd Hetman go?"
"I dunno. He was here a second ago. What was that noise?"
Maybe not a jet; maybe a Baron- Make A Wish, Angel Flight, Shriners, and adopted rescue pets. For longer trips I'd pay for the chartered jet. My wife would be the dispatcher, my daughter would be the nurse, and my dogs would be the honor guard.