Skip to main content

Let's Get Social

Let me take you back to the days when “MaBell” dominated how you communicated with distant family and friends. I’d venture to say your primary means was a rotary dial telephone, undoubtedly a party line, some had to crank, attached to the wall in your home. Getting social meant the neighbors were listening in to your phone conversations.

How times have changed! Today’s pilot can communicate with their friends and former squadron mates worldwide on a variety of devices. A cellphone, laptop computer, tablet, smartphone, or a television connected to your home WiFi network. Social media, via the internet, provides a much broader range of options. Thousands communicate daily from a visit to a museum, a video segment from an airshow, or post a compelling story shared with a veteran. 

For our patrons, it all begins at the Foundation’s website. This is the launch point for all our public activities, educational outreach, and social media outlets. We’re proud to report our active Facebook community has grown to over 25,550 likes! This summer we launched two social media initiatives; Twitter, @FlyUSMC1 and a YouTube channel.

If you’re new to social media, Facebook allows the public to post photo’s of aircraft, tributes and videos that our audience loves to comment on.

For example; “The beloved Phantom 4. 232 flew the J bird 1973-1975 while I served with them at Iwakuni and other parts of WestPac. Now they fly out of MCAS Miramar.” (From Mike Wifler one of our proud docents.)

Twitter is where we share museum activities and quotes from Medal of Honor recipients. For example,  "To observe a Marine, is #inspirational. To be a Marine, is exceptional." GySgt Charles F. Wolf, Jr.

And YouTube allows us to share videos of airshow, museum, and restoration hanger activities and special events on the museum grounds.

So, let’s get social. When you post comments, photos or videos to your personal social media site, simply tag them with #FlyUSMC1. This will allow us to print comments in future editions of the Log Book to share with your fellow foundation members who have not yet made the leap to social media.

To support your foundation’s efforts, we’ve also recently established a PayPal account. Donating is support of the Flying Leatherneck Historical Foundation has never been easier! Just click on Donate Now. The Flying Leathernecks Aviation Museum charges no admission. We rely on your generous donations to support our preservation efforts and the operation of the Museum.

Thank you for your continued support - Semper Fidelis

(This post appeared in Fall/Winter 2014 edition, Flying Leathernecks Log Book)

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Time Travel, Roving Mics, and Muscle Memory

In this episode, the 2026 Sinkankas Symposium. Let’s get one thing straight: I didn’t arrive in a DeLorean. No flux capacitor, no dramatic lightning strike—just a Saturday parking pass and a name badge. And yet, somewhere between the rotunda doors and the first handshake, it happened anyway. This past Saturday, April 25th, I was transported—effortlessly and completely—back in time at the 20th Annual Sinkankas Symposium on the GIA campus in Carlsbad. Walking into that magnificent main campus rotunda early with my colleagues, Paul Mattlin and Glenn Wargo, felt like wrapping myself in a familiar, gem-encrusted blanket. It was less a building, more a family living room where nobody ever really forgets your name. The halls were quiet (a rare and beautiful thing), and the soft echo of our footsteps on the polished floors sounded exactly as I remembered it. For a moment, it wasn’t 2026—it was April 1997, my first time walking onto the beautiful, brand-new GIA campus as Director of Alumni. Som...

Confidently Wrong: The Art of the AI Tall Tale

In this episode, A chat with Adamas the Chef on hidden recipes causing digital hallucinations. Pull up a chair and pour yourself a fresh cup of coffee—and please, for your own sake, taste it first. We need to have a quiet chat about why your computer sometimes decides to reinvent reality with the confidence of a five-star chef who has clearly lost his mind. In the world of technology, we call it a  hallucination . It sounds pretty dramatic, doesn’t it? As if the computer decided to ignore your instructions altogether in favor of a vivid, technicolor imagination that simply hasn’t met reality yet. But in truth, an AI hallucination isn’t a breakdown; it’s just a very confident, very polite mistake. Think of it like our friend Adamas , the Chef. Adamas is a master of the kitchen, but he is also a bit of a romantic who refuses to say “I don’t know.” When you ask him for a classic recipe he hasn’t made in years, he doesn’t stop to consult a cookbook—that’s far too pedestrian. Instead, ...

Ode To Gemology

For over 80 years, students of gemology have struggled with spectrums, bewildered by birefringence, and simply plagued by pleochroism. The following sonnet is guaranteed to bring a smile to your face, a glow to your heart, and a simple reminder that students of life and gemology rediscover nature's gifts every day.  Ode to Gemology , by a GIA on-campus student. Dispersion, fire, adventurescence. Orient, sheen, or iridescence. Refractive index, high or low. The luster should indicate that, you know. Polarization, double or single. What to do now, they intermingle. Pleochroic colors you really should see. Was that only two, or actually three? Birefringence should help you a lot. Use your polarizer and watch the spot. Now, did it jump most on low or high? Sure, you can get it if you really try! Your liquids should be an aid, I think. Does it float, suspend, or slowly sink? Just use your imagination now. (He doesn't see me wiping my brow.) Solid inclusions or only bubbles? Huh, th...

The Cowardice of Corporate Jargon

Picture this: an email lands in your inbox. A colleague—maybe even a friend—needs a favor, a second set of eyes, a moment of your time. You sigh, stare at the glow of your monitor, and type: “I’d love to help, but I just don’t have the bandwidth right now.” Hit send. Problem solved. Conscience clear. Except it shouldn’t be. Most of us have said or sent that line at least once, hoping it would land gently. On the surface, it’s perfect—efficient, polite, even self-aware. And that’s exactly the problem. It lets you decline without ever quite telling the truth. You didn’t just say no; you softened the discomfort of being human until it barely felt like a feeling at all. Instead of admitting, I’m overwhelmed , or I don’t have the energy , you reach for the sterile vocabulary of a server room. You turn a feeling into a metric. A boundary into a system limitation. Apologies, my data transfer rate is capped. Please submit a ticket to my emotional help desk. It’s a clever little trick—and an un...