Feeling Macho...and sad

It will probably sound very strange, but I love the B52. Given it's age and legendary status, it is the most romantic aircraft in the Air Force inventory. This one (called "balls 12") is older than anyone currently serving in the Air Force. Yet, it has absolutely devastating destructive power far beyond comprehension. These things are so cumbersome that the simple act of taking flight looks like an absolute struggle. The landing is just as surprising. Yet, they have served faithfully time and time again. (Yes, personification is justified in the description of heavenly bodies)

I was 18 when I first worked on this particular aircraft. 18! And this thing is still a part of the AF inventory! My service and associated deployments changed my life forever. I can smell the flight deck. It is an acrid, stale, pissy smell. However, it is also warm, and rather comfortable. It represents both loss and potential for me, given the changes that took place during my life when I worked in these jets; as well as pain and joy. I suppose the romantic feelings come from both loving and hating the object that changed my life. How and why are the stuff of braver, or drunker, blog entries.