Carla Le Maistre

I'm a life long Arsenal fan

[Don @Donwillioni]

About to watch the World Cup in the pub when a fella said to me ‘I bet you can’t name 3 Qatar players’

I replied - George Harrison, Jimi Hendrix and Eric Clapton

#worldcup

[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

@itvcorrie Please get rid of Jodie now!!

[✨️Serenitee♡Sam✨️ @Serenitee_Sam]

My mom finally got a stairlift, but I think we accidentally bought a royal chariot for the cat. 😭👑
​I walked out and saw this and just had to stop and melt for a second. The way she’s just sitting there so prim and proper, waiting for her private ride to the first floor... the absolute audacity is matched only by how cute she looks doing it.
​The best part? My mom isn’t even mad. She’s just standing there like, "Well, I guess I'm taking the stairs today." We really are just living in the cat's house at this point, aren't we?
​Honestly, if this doesn't prove that cats have the world completely figured out, I don’t know what does. She’s living the life we all dream of. 🐾💕
​RT if your pet is the actual "Main Character" of your family. I need to see more spoiled fur-babies!

[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

@otokyo Pearl

[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

Four Old Men. Two Wheelchairs. One Beach. Alan Alda’s 90th Birthday

January 28, 2026.

Alan Alda turned 90.

His family planned a safe celebration at home.

Cake. Balloons. Grandkids.

Alan said no.

“I don’t want a party,” he said.

His daughter frowned.

“Dad… you’re turning ninety. This is a big deal.”

“I know,” Alan said.

“But I don’t want to celebrate here.”

“Then where?”

Alan didn’t hesitate.

“I want to go to the beach.”

The room went still.

“The beach?”

“Dad, you’re in a wheelchair.”

“You can barely stand.”

Alan smiled.

That smile.

The Hawkeye Pierce smile — the one that always meant something stubborn was coming.

“So?”

By that afternoon, he had already decided who was coming.

“The four of us,” he said.

“The last four.”

Gary Burghoff.

Jamie Farr.

Mike Farrell.

And himself.

The final survivors of the 4077th.

“No cameras. No interviews. No speeches,” Alan said.

“Just us.”

The phone calls began.

Gary answered first.

“Happy birthday, old man! Ninety!”

“Thanks. I need you to drive.”

“Drive where?”

“To the beach.”

A pause.

“Alan… you’re in a wheelchair.”

“So are facts. They don’t stop me either.”

Gary laughed.

That Radar laugh Alan had known for over fifty years.

“Fine. But I’m not pushing you through sand.”

“I’ll crawl if I have to.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m Hawkeye. Same thing.”

Jamie Farr was next.

“The beach?” Jamie said.

“I’m ninety-one and in a wheelchair.”

“Then we’ll have two wheelchairs at the beach.”

“Like a parade?”

“Like a victory lap.”

Jamie laughed until his voice cracked.

“You haven’t changed since 1972.”

“And you’re still Klinger.”

“Fine. I’m in.”

Mike Farrell sighed the moment he answered.

“Let me guess,” he said.

“You want me to push your wheelchair.”

“Yes.”

“I’m eighty-six. I use a cane.”

“BJ Hunnicutt once saved a man with dental floss,” Alan said.

“You’ll manage.”

Long pause.

“…Fine.”

January 28. 6:00 a.m.

Gary arrived in a rented van.

Two wheelchair spaces.

He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

At Alan’s house, his daughter hovered.

“Dad, are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

“What if something happens?”

“Something is always about to happen at ninety,” Alan said.

“Might as well happen at the beach.”

Jamie was waiting outside his house.

Wheelchair. Sunglasses.

Hawaiian shirt.

“You coordinated outfits?” Gary asked.

“It’s tradition,” Jamie said.

“The 4077th always matched.”

Mike showed up next.

Also in a Hawaiian shirt.

Four old men.

One van.

Heading west.

On the drive, memories filled the air.

Harry driving too fast.

Larry bringing his own wine.

Radar making everyone cry.

Klinger never sleeping.

When the MASH* theme song came on, no one spoke.

After it ended, Alan said quietly,

“That song used to annoy me.”

“Now?”

“Now it just reminds me how lucky we were.”

At Malibu, reality hit.

Wheelchairs don’t work on sand.

Jamie grumbled.

Mike rubbed his back.

Alan stared at the ocean.

Gary disappeared.

Fifteen minutes later, he returned with two lifeguards and two beach wheelchairs.

One lifeguard whispered,

“My grandmother watched MASH* every night.”

It took time.

Transfers were slow.

Hands trembled.

Bones protested.

But they made it.

To the water.

Alan closed his eyes.

The sound of waves.

Salt in the air.

Sun on his face.

“I forgot what this felt like,” he said.

They talked about the ones who weren’t there.

McLean.

Wayne.

Larry.

Harry.

Bill.

David.

Loretta.

Jamie finally broke the silence.

“Let’s race.”

Two wheelchairs.

Two pushers.

One rock.

They raced.

They tied.

People on the beach stared.

A teenager asked, “What are those old guys doing?”

His mother said, “Living.”

As the sun set, Alan spoke.

“This might be the last time.”

No one argued.

“That’s why it matters,” he said.

“Because we know.”

He made a wish.

“One more year.”

“One more adventure.”

“Korea. Together.”

They promised.

[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

@goodreads Just finished The Killing Stones which was brilliant and starting the next.

[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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[Carla Le Maistre @carla34ff]

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