Winging Party

As many of you are aware, NavyGuy completed flight training a few weeks ago, and this past Thursday, received his gold wings - signifying his ability to put on a green flight suit, climb into a multi-million dollar airplane, and get from point A to point B. Just kidding hun! Seriously - it's a major accomplishment. I mean, can you navigate a T-39 from Meridian to Jacksonville, in the pattern, roger, call the ball, reattack, all while looking better than Maverick? Didn't think so.

Besides the official winging ceremony and fancy cocktail reception, each winging class is responsible for throwing a party the following night. The winging class chips in and buys many kegs of beer, and the theme of the party tends to be "how fast can our friends, family, and fellow flight students consume the free beer?" or "let's celebrate our tremendous intelligence at flying complicated aircraft by amassing as a group and being as stupid as possible." NavyGuy's party was at a bar on Pensacola Beach called The Dock. The private winging party took place in a courtyard outside the bar, and the pitchers were always full. Each class is also responsible for creating a class t-shirt.

Now, most groups have shirts made. I've heard of fancy Hawaiian shirts with airplane patterns, bowling shirts based on the military service colors, etc., each with embroidered gold wings, and possibly the new call signs given to the "wingees." The person in charge of NavyGuy's shirts however had a different philosophy on the tradition. Marine #1, (heretofore to be referred to by his highly appropriate, California-surf-attitude inspired, call sign - The Dude) resented the idea of purchasing an expensive shirt ($30-40 dollars) that he would likely never wear again. So The Dude's grand plan was to purchase thin white tees from the Walmart, find some spray paint, and go to town. The rest of the class agreed and that is how I ended up using my Cricket scrapbooking machine to create letter stencils of the phrases The Dude wanted to spray paint onto the shirts...


As much as it pains me to admit this, the shirts actually turned out awesome. The guys brought along fabric markers to the party and went around signing the shirts (which went downhill the more the beer was downed... luckily, most of the obscene comments are illegible). The airplane NavyGuy will be flying (EA-6B Prowler) is considered a national asset by the U.S., so somehow the future flight officers got the wacked idea that they themselves, are "national assets" and plastered that on their shirts.

The other notable aspect of the party was the 8 hosed beer bong (Octa-bong) located in the center of the courtyard. The hoses themselves had a sketchy film on them, and looked as if you could catch herpes just standing close to one. The threat of a venereal disease did not seem to disuade the boys. Guess which wingee participated in the Octa-bong? (He was forced to brush his teeth three times, rinse with listerine, and swallow bleach before his lips got anywhere near mine after the fact.) NavyGuy's parents and sister also attended the party; I've never seen them more proud ;)

Around 12:30am, I gave NavyGuy the secret sign indicating I wanted to leave (basically, I held him by the shoulders, looked him dead in the eyes, and stated, "You can either leave now with me, or sleep on the table under the Octa-bong."). After hugging all his buddies high-school-girl-style, ("you're my best friend man, I love you man), I managed to propel him out to the car and we headed home. He claims to not remember falling asleep four times on the ride home; he also claims not to remember taking a few of the photos that mysteriously appeared on Facebook the next morning... hehe. Overall - quite the celebration for the latest United States Naval Flight Officer.