For twelve weeks every year, the Blue Angels descend from the heavens and land in El Centro, California. The residents treat the pilots like gods: the city council members host black-tie galas, little old ladies bring them homemade lunches, and groupies wait by their rooms to satisfy their desires.

Everyone worships them--everyone, that is, except for me. My father was an Angel--he spent eight weeks loving my mother and then flew off into the sunset, never to return to her, nor to meet me.

I hate everything about them: their blue flight...