Butler, Greg J.

Up, Up, Up and Away by Greg Butler

Up, Up, Up, and Away
That’s what Superman used to say
As he prepared to soar on high
And pass from view across the sky
Well I tried that in my youth
The result was a fall, and a broken tooth
So then I joined the Air Force Cadet Corps
And became a fighter pilot . . . but of course
As a teen I fell in love with the Super Saber’s artistic intake
Copied and admired it in a clay model of a sleek sports car I did make
Then I set the car on the shelf thinking “I guess that’s it for me”
Never dreaming that for twelve years my chinning bar the intake would be
My first gig was in the 461st Deadly Jesters at Hahn, in the ADIZ chasing Migs
Then off to the 53rd Tigers at Ramstein for boring Victor, but much much nicer digs
T’was there on Old 950 I first put my name
No one else would take her due to her very negative fame
For twenty one years I zoomed and thundered
In F-84F, A-7D, and mostly F-one-hundred
From Cannon sat Victor Alert with the big bomb
Skipped, dived and strafed in Vietnam
T’was there I jumped from my flaming steed
They called it ground fire but I know it was a hot air bleed
You know, North American built 2300 of the Hun
Well my Guard wingman that night was in just one . . . My Old 950 (Very small world)
After some ten of those Air Force years I finally got lonely
Then found and married Sweet Lorraine, who sure is a honey
Details of our courtship makes for big laughs at a party
Raised three great kids named Bill, Kristi and Scotty
Spent several years at Luke and D M teaching new guys
How to ply fighter tactics up in the Arizona skies
And in the process, got wrapped up in a thing called I S D
If you really want to know more about that you’ll just have to ask me
But when to a Langley desk they did assign me
I thought to myself, how can this be?
The world’s Greatest Fighter Pilot not up in the sky
So at 21 years I turned in my chute and to the Air Force said good-bye
For the next twenty-some years I did training design
For the Air Force and Navy in a favorite place of mine
That would be San Diego where the sun will usually shine
Worked for Logicon and Northrop, the employers of mine
But before very long I said to myself . . . self
Do you really want to just sit here on the shelf?
Or would you rather soar high again?
To which I replied YES, but how and when?
Then I heard of a guy named VanGrunsven
Who made airplane kits that many were using
So my garage soon became an airplane factory
With much drilling and riveting and other racketry
In a mere eight years my first takeoff was rolling
Up, up, up, and away o’r the clouds I was going
You could hear me exclaim as I roared out of sight
Loops, rolls and spins in the New 950 are sure a delight
So now when terra firma gets boring
To the sky I return, and in 950 go soaring
And when comes the day a medical certificate I can’t rate
I can look back and say . . . . Thank You God . . . . It’s sure been great