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March 6, 2007
You wouldn't want this guy on the boards when your mother's on the airplane. Ernie can't separate the cheeks of his ass.

Three miles and a thousand feet. Who knows if it's enough? It's the standard. You spend twenty or thirty years trying to keep the airplanes from getting closer than that, you just assume that it's enough.

Frankly, you come to consider it excessive.

A miss is as good as a mile.

Green between.

It's a big sky.

Then you think about Ernie, and you admit that three and a thousand might not be enough.

Not for my mom.