I then went through a phase where I found that most kite stores had broken, or ugly kites in the back, that they would let go for a steep discount, and I began accumulating different kinds of kite types. I would fix them up, or take them apart to see how they were made. I had a mental rule (now broken) not to own a delta and so I have quite a few oddball kites. I eventually started making some kites, and I learned how to basically hem nylon on my wife's Singer. I would make a half dozen box kites, keep one, and give out the rest for Christmas or birthday presents. I discovered that my name, Drake, meant "kite" or "dragon" in about six languages.
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One day, I noticed that something called the Maryland Kite Society was having a retreat within driving distance, so I signed up to go. This would be the first time I actually met someone else who had an interest in kites. What a revelation! These were people from my planet! You could touch on aesthetics, aerodynamics, materials science, physics, graphics, sewing, weather, bad jokes, and good puns in a "single conversation" and no one thought it was strange or weird. I also experienced for the first time MKS's basic philosophy of the open sharing of ideas, techniques, and experience that has made kiteflying such a wonderful waste of time and |
money, and has led me to places like Rajkot, India and Muncie, Indiana. In Muncie, I will get a ringside seat at the Kitemaking competition as a judge. In Rajkot, I was welcomed with flowers and anointed, while the Police Academy Orchestra played "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow." Since then, instead of just Drake Smith, I have been Crachen Schmitten. I am a single line flier. I have bought and build several stunt kites; enough to convince me that I am inept at making them go where I want them. I like fighter kites, but often put huge tails on them so I can fly lots of kites at once. Nobody can have enough bird kites, or stars, or roller vaiants, or facets and crystals.
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