Charles Ward

[Brian Krassenstein @krassenstein]

OMFG! This response from @AbdulElSayed to a completely bigoted question is probably the best thing I’ve heard all year.

Every bigot in America needs to listen to this three times.

[Charles Ward @Charles_d_ward1]

@VinnysCorner1 May not be what some people want to hear but instead of or in addition to at least, Maurice “Rocket” Richard. The NHL literally has an award named after him for the highest goal scorer the Rocket Richard trophy.

[Charles Ward @Charles_d_ward1]

@secretsqrl123 They should but they won’t. While agree with many of their policies, they have no backbone.

[Charles Ward @Charles_d_ward1]

@GootyGootz @ourbestieshesty @TheKlenkster LCA is nice but I still sort of miss the Joe. I’ve got a buddy that’s a huge Wings fan and we were supposed to go to this game too but I had some health issues come up so we didn’t make it.

[Charles Ward @Charles_d_ward1]

@JustinBrannan Dude, tell me you caught them playing Sick Of It All during one of the stoppages. So cool

[Donaldo 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 @Stornoway_Cove]

Does that annoy you?

Because it really annoys me…

[Charles Ward @Charles_d_ward1]

@NYRLouie Yeah I’m a no on this one. As much as I like Larkins skill set, he’s older and injury prone. This package is too rich for me for the return.

[Sarah Ironside 💙 @SarahIronside6]

Anyone who didn’t listen to the dire warnings in 2016, I am begging you to pay attention now. Democrats must win the senate majority.

[Charles Ward @Charles_d_ward1]

🚨🚨🚨

[New York Rangers @NYRangers]

THE FIRST RANGERS GOALTENDER TO SCORE A GOAL:

IGOR SHESTERKIN

[Charles Ward @Charles_d_ward1]

@juicyjetta 🦋

[Josh Brooks @F530Josh]

The SR-71 Speed Check Story from Major Brian Shul's book Sled Driver will forever be one of the hardest tales in aviation.

Here it is.

There were a lot of things we couldn't do in an SR-71, but we were the fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of this fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe flying this plane. Intense, maybe. Even cerebral. But there was one day in our Sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the fastest guys out there, at least for a moment.

It occurred when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie. We needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain Mission Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We had made the turn in Arizona and the jet was performing flawlessly.

My gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real missions but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the plane in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000 feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators and study, ahead of the jet.

I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Walter in the back seat. There he was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us, tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for when we began flying real missions, when a priority transmission from headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire flying career I had controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of the division of duties in this plane and I had adjusted to it.

I still insisted on talking on the radio while we were on the ground, however. Walt was so good at many things, but he couldn't match my expertise at sounding smooth on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with years in fighter squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds for beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury.

Just to get a sense of what Walt had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to descend into their airspace. We listened as the shaky voice of a lone Cessna pilot asked Center for a readout of his ground speed. Center replied: "November Charlie 175, I'm showing you at ninety knots on the ground."

Now the thing to understand about Center controllers, was that whether they were talking to a rookie pilot in a Cessna, or to Air Force One, they always spoke in the exact same, calm, deep, professional, tone that made one feel important. I referred to it as the " Houston Center voice." I have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this country's space program and listening to the calm and distinct voice of the Houston controllers, that all other controllers since then wanted to sound like that, and that they basically did. And it didn't matter what sector of the country we would be flying in, it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere. Conversely, over the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting, they sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne. Better to die than sound bad on the radios.

Just moments after the Cessna's inquiry, a Twin Beech piped up on frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his ground speed. "I have you at one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed." Boy, I thought, the Beechcraft really must think he is dazzling his Cessna brethren. Then out of the blue, a navy F-18 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded very cool on the radios. "Center, Dusty 52 ground speed check". Before Center could reply, I'm thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 52 has a ground speed indicator in that million-dollar cockpit, so why is he asking Center for a readout? Then I got it, ol' Dusty here is making sure that every bug smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows what true speed is. He's the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet. And the reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion: "Dusty 52, Center, we have you at 620 on the ground."

And I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic button, I had to remind myself that Walt was in control of the radios. Still, I thought, it must be done - in mere seconds we'll be out of the sector and the opportunity will be lost. That Hornet must die, and die now. I thought about all of our Sim training and how important it was that we developed well as a crew and knew that to jump in on the radios now would destroy the integrity of all that we had worked toward becoming. I was torn.

Somewhere, 13 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his space helmet. Then, I heard it. The click of the mic button from the back seat. That was the very moment that I knew Walter and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke: "Los Angeles Center, Aspen 20, can you give us a ground speed check?" There was no hesitation, and the replay came as if was an everyday request. "Aspen 20, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two knots, across the ground."

I think it was the forty-two knots that I liked the best, so accurate and proud was Center to deliver that information without hesitation, and you just knew he was smiling. But the precise point at which I knew that Walt and I were going to be really good friends for a long time was when he keyed the mic once again to say, in his most fighter-pilot-like voice: "Ah, Center, much thanks, we're showing closer to nineteen hundred on the money."

For a moment Walter was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the armor of the Houston Center voice, when L.A.came back with, "Roger that Aspen, Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys have a good one." It all had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable sprint across the southwest, the Navy had been flamed, all mortal airplanes on freq were forced to bow before the King of Speed, and more importantly, Walter and I had crossed the threshold of being a crew. A fine day's work. We never heard another transmission on that frequency all the way to the coast. For just one day, it truly was fun being the fastest guys out there.

[Tetris @Tetris_Official]

P.S. The Tetris Company was not involved in the creation of ‘Build the Wall’.

P.P.S. We take copyright infringement very seriously.

[Charles Ward @Charles_d_ward1]

@RamonaRyderNY I miss Kim’s from back in the day. Where is this spot? Is it permanent or just a pop up?

[Matt Van Swol @mattvanswol]

🚨WOW!!!

A Bronx pizzeria owner saw a woman eating out of his GARBAGE.

He walked outside, took her by the hand, led her in, and pulled a hot slice straight from the oven for her.

She sat down and cried. He said: "Don't cry. Eat. I don't want you eating out of a garbage." ❤️

His name is Daniel Romano.

He owns D'Romano's Pizza in the Throggs Neck section of the Bronx.

He didn't shoo her away.

"I grabbed her by the hand and I led her to the pizzeria and I went in the oven and I got her a fresh slice and gave it to her. Sat down and she started crying. I said, 'don't cry, eat. This is not a problem.'"

In that moment, he decided he'd never let it happen to anyone again.

So he grabbed a marker, wrote a sign by hand, and taped it in his window for the whole neighborhood to see:

"To the people eating out of my garbage, I have more love for you than you think. Please come in and tell me you're hungry. I will forever give you a slice and fresh water to drink."

When they asked him why, his answer was simple.

"Right now, I think this world is shot. There's too much hate. Too much negativity. Why not put a smile on someone's face?"

And it turns out this runs deep for Daniel.

It goes all the way back to his mother, Carmella.

"She had a saying in Italian. She used to say, 'a desperate person will always make a better decision on a full stomach than on an empty.'

"It always stuck with me. So I feed people."

A desperate person makes a better decision on a full stomach.

That handwritten sign has traveled way past the Bronx now.

Daniel says people are calling him from Texas, Arkansas, Hawaii, even Alaska, all wanting to chip in and buy slices for hungry strangers they'll NEVER MEET.

"Don't ask me, I didn't even know Alaska had a phone."

It all started with one slice.
One woman.
One man who did something kind.

GOD BLESS Daniel Romano. 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

[Anonymous @YourAnonNews]

TDS explained

[Charles Ward @Charles_d_ward1]

@JustinBrannan Amen to that!

[Charles Ward @Charles_d_ward1]

@JustinBrannan @nypost This feels like the same thing I used to tell people about Trump when he was elected the first time. I’d hear but nobody hated him until he ran for president. He was always an ass but before he took office it never affected my life so I never cared.

[Charles Ward @Charles_d_ward1]

@MikeCrispi Those plastic shopping bags were wasteful though. Don’t miss them one bit. Been using the same reusable bags for close 5 years now and I have no problem with it.

[Anonymous @YourAnonNews]

How fucking free are you?
Here's something people should probably think about:
If a corporation controls your healthcare…
your employer controls your livelihood…
a bank owns your home…
an algorithm controls what information reaches you…
and billionaires finance the politicians writing the rules…
exactly which part of your life are we calling freedom?