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No, seriously

2009-10-30T16:32:23Z

When I said it was better than sex I wasn't exaggerating.

Here's an A6 doing one of my favorite things up in the Cascades.

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Does that qualify as hitting on me?

2009-10-21T22:59:43Z

I went to the bank today and the teller, a cute young lady with a severe haircut and obvious proclivities that mark her as at least sympathetic to awesome people (if not one of them - you can't just tell by looking), totally hit on me... I think.

She started out by asking how my day was going, which is what you do if you're a bank teller. It's small talk so I don't have to focus on the fact that I'm watching you hit keys and slide checks through a scanner. Most of the time they don't care but I always answer honestly. I told her my day was going great, I love the weather, and I think I'm going to get some lunch so that's always a happy event.

She then told me her day was dragging and she really wanted to be out looking for Halloween ideas. She wanted to know what I was going to be for the holiday and told me what she was considering. She then told me I look like Robert Englund "in the really cool way, not in the burned up face kind of way" and that she bets I could pull off Freddy really well. My transaction ended about the time I was relating earlier what I was doing for lunch. I was getting antsy to get out of there.

Does that qualify? I never know about these things. In any case, she was very pleasant. And I look like a murderer. So I've got that going for me...

a pilot's life for me

2009-10-20T05:54:11Z

I had an unexpected drop in today in the form of an old friend. He's an airline pilot now and found himself routed through Seattle and forced to take an overnight. Fortunately, he knows somebody here and gave me a call.

We bummed around, talked about what we had been up to lately, and covered a wide range of subjects. He has been a friend for a long time but we don't see each other much, so this was a nice way to catch up. I was co-best man at his wedding some 8 years ago so we were pretty close. While we aren't as close now as we were then, we fell right back in to the old patterns and comfort with each other.

T'was nice.

G'night!

Ultra massive black holes

2009-10-15T14:27:35Z

This this probably information that black hole buffs already know, but it's presented in awesome ways. It's about 20 minutes and filled with beauty and wonder.

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Dream snippets

2009-10-14T14:43:09Z

I rarely write down my dreams. Often they fade within minutes after I wake up so if I don't do it immediately they're gone... and I don't really get up in time to have a spare half hour each morning. This morning was different - I woke early, got up and then paused by the computer on the way to the shower. I decided to write what I had last night, so here it is.

I was in some kind of large mall place. I was there by myself but there were plenty of people. I had entered some kind of video/book/booze store. A man was standing just outside, yelling at his 5 to 7 year old boy who had come in. It was as if the man didn't want to cross the threshold. He was saying to the boy, "Surely you do not belong in there! Come forth quickly!" The boy didn't seem to care what the guy thought. He was telling him something along the lines of, "Yeah, just in a minute."

I was inside shortly after and found it odd that this guy was speaking this way. The English was a little too high. I looked at some different bottles of whatever it was because the glasswork was pretty nifty and then went to see the books. Next thing I realized the guy was inside, grabbing the kid and yelling at him that he damn well better do as he's told. He took the kid to a big rug in the middle of the store which was uncluttered by furniture. It was a very dark red. The kid was crying. He threw the boy down and told him to stay there and read books and that he was a fucking embarrassment and was the reason that people were dying in the world (yeah). He threw a book at the kid, something astronomy themed, and yelled "There used to be people on the moon but they're all dead now because of you! Your misbehaving killed an entire planet! Yeah, you should cry."

Everybody in the store was uncomfortable and looking/not looking the way people do when they know something is wrong but don't know if they should do something. I was doing it too until I realized it. I had a flash where I was a wanderer in a desert which I knew to be the moon (which looked a lot like a place with an atmosphere) and found a huge abandoned fortress. I think I was imagining, in-dream, that this might make an interesting plot line for the Final Fantasy series of games.

I left the flash and was back in the store with the kid crying and his (presumed) father off looking at things. I took the boy a book and told him, "You didn't cause the things he accuses you of but I think you already know that. I'm sorry you have to grow up with this, but I want you to know you're going to be strong because of it. You'll be able to understand people. You won't hate them. You'll feel sorry that they don't know themselves the way you do and you'll try to help them with your compassion. Here's a book about astronomy, it's really good." He listened to me while I talked and didn't cry. I felt guilty as I left that I couldn't do more, but I knew for certain that my prediction would come true.

Next I was outside. I was with 2 people: one was a hippie-ish looking man in sandals, long shorts, and a t-shirt with unbuttoned long sleeved (but rolled up sleeves) flannel shirt. The other was a fairly non-descript woman with dark, shoulder length hair which was curly and an great smile. They were both happy but while her happiness took up most of her headspace, his was equally filled with some kind of concern that he didn't want to tell us about.

We walked to an arched bridge over a fairly short channel and stopped in the middle. The man and I were talking about things I don't remember. He was serene but had weight in his expression which I didn't understand until I finally asked him about it. He told me that he's Jesus. I accepted it completely with surprise but no grovelling (which makes me happy because it means I've overcome my heritage) and I asked him what he was doing here, of all places? He said that he'd come to bless the fountain and proceeded to do so in a very unceremonious fashion. Just dipped his finger into the stream, said something like, "this is blessed," and it was done. I remembered a saying that goes something like, "Magic is seldom spectacular because it seldom needs to be," and figured that's the case here.

A teenaged boy came up and started talking to us. He was a little pushy and gruff in the way that many mid-teen aged kids are - the way where they're really self conscious and uncertain of themselves so they try really hard to appear the opposite. He was trying to get us to do something but Jesus was saying he didn't want to. I listened and it sounded sketchy so I said no too. The woman was silent and stared at the kid like she was looking for microbes on his nose.

The boy tried to convince us for a while and go angrier and angrier. He started yelling and finally said that he was a demon and asked Jesus why he'd never gotten married. Jesus didn't answer and stopped looking at the kid. I was all, "Oh shit, really? That's what this is about?" and made up my mind to talk to Jesus about this later. His reaction made me understand it wasn't just a casual thing and that Jesus had done something he wished he hadn't.... which doesn't fit with most people's ideas of who he might have been. The woman had moved behind the boy at this point because his yells had gotten threatening and it was like he was about to throw some punches. She put her arms under his and locked her hands behind his head. He was struggling and yelling at Jesus about how his doom was coming and that he would kill the woman behind him. I wasn't sure what to do... I didn't want to hit the kid but knew we couldn't let him go. Then the woman said something like, "Oh yeah, hey, the fountain!" and I went and started tossing little handfulls of water at the kid. He dodged as much as he could but I still got him. Nothing much happened so I looked at Jesus and he said, "It's more like an allergic reaction. Give it a second." Sure enough, the kid started screaming and managed to break the woman's hold on him. He took off running.

At this point, I asked Jesus what that was all about. I knew I'd have to pry.

Then I woke up.

A million words - by Dave Barry

2009-10-03T07:13:01Z

A friend brought this to my attention tonight. She thought of me when she read it and thought I could maybe use it. I don't think she knew just how close a lot of this got to my experience.

It has been 6 months.

A Million Words - by Dave Barry

It was time to go have my last words with my father. He was dying, in the bedroom he built. He built our whole house, even dug the foundation himself, with a diaper tied around his head to keep the sweat out of his eyes. He was always working on the house, more than 35 years, and he never did finish it. He was first to admit that he really didn’t know how to build a house.

When I went in to see him, he was lying in the bedroom, listening to “The People’s Court.” I remember when he always would be on those Sunday-morning television talk shows, back in the fifties and sixties. Dr. Barry, they called him. He was a Presbyterian minister, and he worked in inner-city New York. They were always asking him to be on those shows to talk about Harlem and the South Bronx, because back then he was the only white man they could find who seemed to know anything about it. I remember when he was quotation of the day in the New York Times. The Rev. Dr. David W. Barry.

His friends called him Dave. “Is Dave there?” they’d ask, when they called to talk about their husbands or wives or sons or daughters who were acting crazy or drinking too much or running away. Or had died. “Dave,” they’d ask, “what can I do?” They never thought to call anybody but him. He’d sit there and listen, for hours, sometimes. He was always smoking.

The doctor told us he was dying, but we knew anyway. Almost all he said anymore was thank you, when somebody brought him shaved ice, which was mainly what he wanted, at the end. He had stopped putting his dentures in. He had stopped wearing his glasses. I remember when he yanked his glasses off and jumped into the Heymans’ pool to save me.

So I go in for my last words, because I have to go back home, and my mother and I agree I probably won’t see him again. I sit next to him on the bed, hoping he can’t see that I’m crying. “I love you, Dad,” I say. He says “I love you, too. I’d like some oatmeal.”

So I go back out to the living room, where my mother and my wife and my son are sitting on the sofa, in a line, waiting for the outcome and I say, “He wants some oatmeal.” I am laughing and crying about this. My mother thinks maybe I should go back in and try to have a more meaningful last talk, but I don’t.

Driving home, I’m glad I didn’t. I think: He and I have been talking ever since I learned how. A million words. All of them final, now. I don’t need to make him give me any more, like souvenirs. I think: Let me not define his death on my terms. Let him have his oatmeal. I can hardly see the road.

Attention!

2009-10-02T02:01:57Z

daemonwolf !

Merry Christmas.

I'd post a picture of the cake I got for you but it's what they call "obscene". I'm sure you can imagine it well enough.

Burning Man Report: Part 2

2009-09-30T02:37:30Z

Oh look, tl;dr again.

Yes, it took me a while. I get busy. It's a thing I do.

So! When last we left our ... subject... he was going to sleep after a tiring day of dust storms and heat. The sleep was decent, I think I got 4 or 5 hours.  I think that meets or exceeds the sum of all sleep I got for the rest of the week.

I woke to the semi familiar heat of the day which baked me out of the tent each morning by about 7:30 or 8. I spent most of the early morning laying down in a chair until I remembered a story about pancakes. Nothing in the world sounded better so I roused some of the rest of our crew and we took off on our bikes to find these generous souls with their tasty treats.

Holy crap has it been a long time since I rode a bike. Do you realize the things you can do with hips that don't hurt with the fury of a thousand suns? Not that you pervs. I mean like riding a bike and walking and sitting and breathing. It's really nice. I know this because of my learnings.

Anyway, we got into line with our plates (you have to bring all your own utensils) and waited. Alex was wise enough to know that today was plaid day. Wearing plaid today (and dressing like a super hero tomorrow) allows you to cut in line and everybody is welcome to go through as many times as they'd like. The rest of us went through like the lowly plebes we were ... but Alex was kind enough to make a few runs for us after we finished our plates of deliciousness. Mmm.   Then! We got to ride back to camp while holding sticky plates and forks. I'm surprised I didn't drop mine though it would have only gotten *slightly* more dusty than it already was.

Back at camp we washed dishes and I had the revelation that holy CRAP was it getting hot and I need to drink water. You should do that when you're out in an environment that wants you dead with all its heart. One of the ways it tries to kill you is to slowly rob you of all your liquid. This is a powerful and subtle tactic that succeeded in making me have a headache. I started drinking. I should have started Drinking. Well, probably not, but I felt like it would be a good idea at the time.

The day wore on and I was Not Happy with the environment.  My camp mates and I hid in the RV after a brief foray out into the heat to buy more ice. We packed it into small bags and then packed our bodies with it. Well, two of us did that anyway. The rest of them toughed it out. As the dust blew up again, I did my best to hunker down and ignore the fact that the outside world was a hostile, near sentient thing seeking our deaths with the fury and vengeance of various scorned and lost civilizations. No I'm not being overly dramatic. I could hear them screaming outside. Yes, there's a chance it could have been hippies on drugs but I don't think so. Those sounds were unholy.

Some of our hardy group ventured out in the early afternoon. I half thought I would never see them again as the desert would surely try to swallow them whole. They survived, to be a total spoiler.

While my friends were out risking life and limb, I stayed in the RV and made a jellyfish. Since I was low on protoplasm, I used a white umbrella, some reflective streamers, and blue LEDs with a battery. This was so totally not my inventiveness at work, it was la_roja all the way. She's the costume genius, I just do what I'm told. I was told to bring an umbrella.

That night we gathered with a group of friends I hadn't met yet over at camp Wabi to prepare for jellyfishing.  There were to be 11 of us and it was going to be awesome (though I did not know this yet). After suiting up and preparing, we tore out into the sandy wastes to terrorize and/or flob on people who got in our way. One amongst our group started counting the number of times he heard somebody say "Jellyfish!" but he had to stop. He hit 57 before we even made it a block.

The jellyfishing was one of my two most awesome moments at BM. We walked the entire outer ring of the artsy stuff. I think it was at least 2 miles and was most likely more than that. Somebody help me here, if you know for sure.

So we wandered around and decided to mob anybody with a video camera. We also decided to mob anybody who was particularly vocal. Sometimes we just mobbed indiscriminately. Jellyfish are fickle that way... and vicious. We would chant "Prey!! Prey!!!" and get all swirly and distracting on their ass. Booah.

If we found any art cars that were boat shaped or nautical themed, we'd swirl around them and have a great time. Turns out if you open and close the umbrella, it looks a lot like a swimming jellyfish. Sweet. Yeah, so anyway we'd swarm whoever we thought needed it: individuals on bikes, anything that looked like a fish, art cars, Rangers... the usual. It got really exciting when we came upon our first rave.

I remember   la_roja saying something about, "Don't get too far in there or you'll never get out..." and then I was swallowed by this throbbing throng of people. Wow. The chaos is difficult to describe. Due to the lights inside my umbrella and the lack of lights outside I couldn't see more than half a second in front of me... and there were people coming under my canopy all the time yelling how awesome I was and how much they loved me. I was all "Duh! Now move please and no thank you for the drugs..."   I have never been ground upon by so many gorgeous young ladies in my whole life. *blush*

S was right, though, about not getting too far in. I almost didn't make it out.  I got all turned around and people were grabbing at me and trying to do things... and hey, I'm not that kind of jellyfish. I managed to make it out after some creative pushing. We regrouped and got on our way to see some of the other exhibits.

There really are some amazing things out there in the wastes. A bigass rubick's cube (met some of the designers of that later, back in Seattle), some hopping lights in the ground, Thunderdome!, jazz, the temple, and the man. There's tons more (including a very surprised young woman exiting the potties to a facefull of jellyfish) but suffice to say I had a good time doing this. I was totally beat when we got back to camp a few hours later but it was worth it.

I did not sleep too well this night, unfortunately. The beats from the roller disco and the random art cars literally shook me to keep me awake. If I got 2 hours I'd consider that lucky. Ick. I rose with much bleary in my eyes to the hot sun and another morning of sitting in the relative pre-day cool outside. This brings us to Wednesday morning and ... the end of this edition of my Burning Man report.

Prod me, I'll write more soon.

I have no effing idea what's up with LJ and its tags. I guess you get 4 chances to click. Choose... but choose wisely.

Drive by updating

2009-09-29T22:46:28Z

I'm back from California! It's hot! Ick.

Thank you, Seattle, for having cool air and protective clouds. Your greenery is also much appreciated.

UPS: I do not ever use you if I can. I am held hostage when others do. Your customer service people are brainwashed but I am not fooled. It's sad that I have to escalate any situation to have your packages actually delivered to a place where I can get them without spending an hour in my car and 30 minutes in a line. The amount of suckitude associated with sitting in my front lobby for 45 minutes while waiting so you wouldn't "miss" me is not to be underestimated. I'll send you a bill for my time later, when I control the Earth.

How is it that I still have playa dust on things? I've washed and washed but I'll never get clean... never....

Speaking of, I am going to do that BM update. Serious. I guess I'm still so traumatized by it that I'm avoiding going back there in my mind. I dream of it and wake screaming in the night. I'll tough through for you though, my dear internets. For you.

Ted: How I harnessed the wind

2009-09-23T17:25:12Z

You're going to need to watch this. It's just under 6 minutes, you have time.

Inspiring is not a good enough word to describe this young man's story.

Retriever tackle

2009-09-10T04:39:21Z

I'm too tired to get back in to the BM write up but will do so shortly.

I just got home from a nice night with some friends I haven't seen in a long while. We ate and talked and drank tea, so it was on par with excellent.

I parked about a block from my door and was walking in the dark down the sidewalk. About a block past my door a golden retriever was walking with her person. She saw me and jerked the leash out of the lady's hand, turned around to pick up the leash, and then ran full-tilt at me. I put down what I was carrying and received the (gentle at the end) charge and proceeded to receive lickings while administering scratchings. Eventually there was a massive belly rub. Her mom was surprised that she picked me out in the dark at such a long distance, especially since I was wearing all black and under no lights.

I get dogs. I think they get me in some ways. I like it.

Burning Man Report: Part 1

2009-09-09T04:02:00Z

This is going to be a fairly long post and will certainly qualify as tl;dr for most who don't want to read this newbie's report on his Burning Man experience.

I'm going to be as fair as I can here, but I also intend to be honest about what I think of the festival. Anybody who has clicked the cut will probably already have some kind of opinion about BM and I want to make it clear that I'm not trying to influence anybody else's thoughts or put a value judgment on anybody.  Succinctly: I love that BM exists. I hope it continues to happen for a long time.

There. You see? I'm not a total curmudgeon. Just partial. Let's talk about that, then.

I am extremely fortunate in that I had some friends going down in an RV.  They were able to take my suitcase, tent, and a few other bulky items for me while I flew to an airport (Alturas) about 80 miles away from Black Rock City (the name of the BM city, for those who don't know). They picked me up and drove me the rest of the way in. I still feel a little guilty about the fact that I flew for a bit over 2 hours to get to Alturas while they drove something like 11 hours. I am spoiled and am grateful for it.

Since I got in around 6pm and my friends were due at 10ish, I went in to town for some supper and supplies. I had unfortunately forgotten to pack some of my personal care items so I picked up a tooth brush and paste, deodorant, hair brush, etc. There's this nice little Italian joint (read: pizza place) in Alturas at which I met a nice lady named Liz. She's in her mid 50's and had pink highlights in her white hair - she was able to identify me immediately upon seeing my kilt. We talked about the event, how she had been going for many years and wasn't going to go this year until her puppy died 4 weeks ago, and that it was hitting her much harder than she thought it ought. We did the kind of psychoanalysis that you can only do with a total stranger or a close friend and left the conversation with a hopeful outlook. The burning of the Man and Temple are apparently tied with some symbolism for many who attend BM and I think Liz is going to be able to let go of some things.

My friends picked me up and we started driving towards the event, which opened at midnight. We stopped briefly in Gerlach (last town on the way) for some gas and I think some food items. It was pretty surreal already - this tiny little town was already overrun by every manner of person - old, young, mundane, elaborate... you name it. I got to practice some first aid skills (skill check, +1 percent at the end of this adventure) and get my first glimpses at what the week would be like.

Shortly after departing Gerlach, we got into The Line. Holy crap.  It was quite dark, of course, and the line stretched as far as my eyes could see. Scot, who had been driving all day, guided us over the hours through starts and stops while the rest of us lay about and made fun of the noise coming out of some dude's head about 3 cars up. Every time the line stopped, he'd get out and start dancing on the road side. It was a little bit cute. I was exhausted because I'd just spent the previous 2 weeks on an almost nonstop continental tour but I do remember waking up and hearing a song that kept chanting something about "Put yer muthafukin hands in the air!!"   My delirious RV mates and I latched on to this phrase and it became our greeting/exhortation/sign of approval for the rest of the week.

I drifted in and out of consciousness for much of the wait in line and was vaguely aware of somebody asking to see our tickets. They had all been collected so I didn’t need to rouse much for this and the inspection (which was cursory at best) was painless. On we went.

I’m not sure how long it took but there was walkie-talkie chatter between us and some others whom we knew were coming. I really don’t remember much of that conversation but was surprised that it seemed only those in the Wabi crew were doing it. I think I caught a few exchanges and remember being highly amused at some of them. I was doing fine in my semi-conscious state.

Up to now, my experience had been pretty positive. I was with friends; we were heading in to our adventure and the mood was light. Yes, I said “up to now” for a reason. There’s apparently this thing the organizers do? This thing where when it’s your first time attending BM you are compelled to undergo an initiation ritual? This was not good. I have not expressed before that I have a singular hatred of initiation rituals to many of my friends but those who know me fairly well will probably have figured this. I don’t do tradition for tradition’s sake and while I understand the various psychological and symbolic devices at work in such a scenario, they don’t work on me. They usually have the opposite effect of causing a Me vs. Them attitude wherein I have been mocked for no reason other than to attempt some kind of manipulation at forced bonding. So, naturally, I begin to despise whatever group is attempting to initiate me.

I know. You’re shocked since I’m such a frat boy, right? Also yes, I’m a party pooper. I have learned to live with this truth. It’s why I try to stay out of those kinds of parties – I just bring everybody down and I really don’t like doing that. Isn’t their fault.

I was pretty well asleep I figure because the first thing I remember is somebody saying, “John, you have to get up and get out of the RV. Hurry!” I think I asked if the RV was on fire. I don’t remember too well but I wasn’t entirely sure what was happening until my feet hit the ground outside. There was a very dusty boy holding a piece of rebar and smiling, waving me over. I went over.

He had all the rest of the new people in my RV troupe standing there in front of the vehicle. The headlights illuminated us as it was still the middle of the night and I think there were glowy lights around us. I’m a little fuzzy here. Smiling dirt boy said loudly, “Alright Virgins! I want you all to get down on the ground and make me a dust angel! You’re going to get dirty here at Burning Man, and here’s your first taste of it!” He was really happy. I was really not happy. I had a lot of things pass through my head but didn’t say too many of them but got my point across succinctly that I felt this whole exercise was bullshit and I’m going back to the van. He stopped me and plead his case that it was for good fun and would I please? I was not having fun. I told him that. I then felt a little guilty, like I was stomping on his dusty little toy and making him sad.

I will call it a flash of stupor induced insight. To assuage my guilt and almost give him what he was asking for, I got down on one knee in the dust and dirt, and drew with my finger probably one of my better stick figure angels. He tried to protest. I told him that he goddam well better be more specific next time and I was following his instructions to the letter, goddamit. I think he began to understand that I was serious. I got up after he took a picture, attempting to maintain the party atmosphere and lightheartedness. I felt like more of a curmudgeon (and it was kind of delicious) but also started to feel bad for this kid again. Then he asked me to ring some stupid bell and yell something about not being a virgin. I rang the bell, handed back the rebar, and gave the guy a hug. I told him it wasn’t his fault that I’m in a bad mood and that I hate these things, but fuck if I just wanted to go back inside and lay down again. He nodded and smiled at me. Ordeal The First was now over.

I attempted to return to blissful oblivion but that didn’t happen very effectively since I was still steamed that this ritual existed for an event that I… really don’t see through the glasses that many in attendance do.

We drove around for a while and I continued to pass in and out of semi-grumpy consciousness. Eventually the camp site was discovered and we parked the RV… just as the sun’s rays cleared the East horizon. I was a little delirious now, and became somewhat more cheerful by the idea that I had no idea where the night went because it just started like 4 minutes ago, didn’t it?

We got the tents out and started setting those up while the rest of the crew began hammering in the shade structure which would protect the chairs. Bigass bed inflated, I went in to take a nap which I had hoped would last into the afternoon.

I am naïve, I know that (now).

At about 8:00 or so, I realized that I was on fire. Holy crap that tent got hot fast. Outside it was cool, but inside it was a freaking easy bake oven. As I had no brownies, I got out and sat in a chair, turned away from the sun, and attempted to laze. It’s hard to laze when there’s a roller disco about 80 yards away blasting the Happy Happy, Joy Joy song. It’s amusing, but not lazy. Committed to victory over consciousness, I attempted to get as comfy in the chair as I could.

A guy came over and said something to me about a safety road. I didn’t quite get it. He then reiterated that we had parked with our RV and my tent sticking out into this road that was marked and sure enough, he was right. The crew of the RV mustered and we pulled forward, restaked everything, and attempted to return to lounging. This did not last long.

Some guy with way too deep of a tan, a utilikilt, and nothing else came up to us and told me that we were in the wrong spot and would have to go. I told him we already moved out of the road. He said no, this camp belongs to <blah blah… was in Enthalon? I don’t freaking remember> and we had to get out of there because it was their turf. He was an ass.

Anyway, ultimately this whole mess got settled when the Chief Hippy (or Assistant Chief Hippy – I’m uncertain) came by and offered to give us all hugs and organically cooked meals if we’d move. He pulled some strings with the people across the street and got us a spot about 20 feet from where we were. I was at the point of Just Do and no longer interested in anything other than fixing our camp in a solid place for the rest of the week. I think the rest of the crew was there too. We moved, pounded in the rebar for a third time, and attempted to settle down again.

Never did get my organic meal. This is probably a good thing as I’d likely have made fun through the whole thing and that is decidedly Not Nice.

Ultimately, this new place was a little better (even if it was a tad closer to the roller rink blasting whatever they felt like playing). We had better shade from the RV, a better breeze, and an open area to our right. That was kinda nice.

I fell asleep in a chair for a couple of hours and woke up with a hacking cough – my lungs are not coated with Pledge, it turns out, and I don’t breathe well with particulates in the air due to damage I suffered to my lungs when I was very little. Ack. Dust = not impressive in just about every way something could be not impressive. Also, it was hot. Did I mention that? Like it was 95+? Yeah, I am well aware that it gets hotter elsewhere and I have been to those places… but! I am able to go between air conditioned buildings when in those hell holes. Even if I’m flying all day in the heat, I had a nice air conditioned room to look forward to for the evening. No such luxuries here – the heat was ever present and damning in its inescapable nature.

I did bring a little fan device attached to a bottle of water. This was marginally useful for a few seconds’ relief and brought me many slivers of joy through the week.

As the afternoon drew on, there was a small dust storm (we hid in the RV) and the racket of other people setting up. This didn’t bother me much (well, the racket didn’t) and I lazed about until evening. The sun dipped below the western hills at about 6:30 each night and things cooled off quickly to temperatures that I found very comfortable. I think it go into the 60’s. It was so perfect, I felt great even without any extra clothes on. Now that the temp was tolerable, I attempted to retire into the tent for a night’s rest. I knew that everything that *really* happened did so at night but I was so exhausted it was all I could do to get ready for bed. I crawled in, zipped up, and was out shortly after wedging my earplugs into place. I slept surprisingly decently that first night. It’s amazing what the bludgeon of sleep deprivation will do for you. I am grateful.

More soon!

Has its perks...

2009-08-25T23:49:10Z

So my job wears me out sometimes. I find myself in faraway places when I'd rather be home... but there are some serious up-sides to doing what I do.

Last weekend I flew out to Philly after spending most of the week in Vegas to escort two aircraft out to Seattle.  Since flying in the flat lands is very different from the mountains, these guys wanted me to come along and show them how to pick their way through the high stuff, how to watch out for odd air currents, dodge thunder storms... that kind of thing.

On day one we circled Mt. Rushmore at a couple thousand feet while taking pictures, then did some formation flying. I had the other guy put his autopilot on to hold his plane steady while I hand flew in a little closer. The next day, shortly after leaving Jackson Hole, we did it again but on the other side.   I had been sitting right seat and put the other plane off our left, so I was looking through and around my student. As such, I didn't feel comfortable getting our wingtips closer than about 10 feet or so. On the second day, I switched sides and got in a fair bit closer, ultimately having our wings about 5 feet apart. The fellows in the other plane took some photos, here are a few of them.

Here we are inching in towards them. You want to do this kind of thing nice and slowly considering we were both traveling at about 200 mph at 13,000 feet.

This isn't the closest I got to them but it's getting there.  Our wingtips are about 8 feet apart here.

After we were done, I gave them a 3 count and broke off. It was a little fun.

Returning on a jet plane

2009-08-22T05:19:06Z

Well, not so much but it's still pretty fast.

I got up at 2:30 am, Pacific time, after airlining to Philly last night. Five hours of sleep? Not bad when one considers all things.

Then we flew. And flew. And flew. And during most of that we wrangled thunderstorms. There is at least one more pilot who knows that when I tell them that seriously, flying high and avoiding the buildups is a good idea because I've fucked this up so many times before you wouldn't guess... well, he should believe me. It's a little stressful letting people make mistakes so they can learn from them, particularly when turbulence is involved. It was a good lesson.

Then we landed in Indiana and took on some fuel.

The other ship's crew knew I grew up somewhere around South Dakota and asked if we could stop in my old home town. I called Mom and she was able to get off work. We flew four hours to get there and she hugged me and all of my 3 other people for bringing her son home, even if for just a bit. A couple of power bars and we were off again, this time to see Mt. Rushmore.

We got in close and decided to do a little photo op. I did a very slow and tight circle around the Heads at about 7,700 feet while the other guy slowly crept up on me. When he got to within about 300 feet, he held that rough position and had his passenger take some photos. I was not satisfied.

We departed Mt. Rushmore and headed for Jackson Hole, WY. I told the other crew to put their airplane on autopilot while I hand flew in to a very tight formation. They took lots of pics - I'll get some and post later.

Right now I'm exhausted beyond coherency. I have no idea how much of the above will make sense but it's a start at logging what I did today. We talked about belief in god over the radio and made fun of an airline pilot. He had it coming.

Tomorrow... the world!

Where have you been?

2009-08-20T05:31:05Z

I dropped off the face of the earth again! Yay!

Well, there's bound to be somebody who's happy about that. Anyway, I've been running at full tilt for quite some time now. I was in LA over my birthday and the following day, back in town for a day and a half or so, then back on the road.

Presently I'm in Vegas and just finished filming some training videos which we will edit and put up on the YouTubes. They tell me that's a big deal now, that all the cool people are doing it, and if I want to stay hip I'll need to get in there. I'll share the videos here once they're up and running.

I'm not going to be around Seattle much for the rest of the month and into next month. Tomorrow I'll airline over to Philadelphia where I'll escort two aircraft back to Seattle.  I have my camera, I'll take some pictures.

Next! Our Alaska trip is next week.  Luke will head up Tuesday, I'll follow on Wednesday with some stragglers. We'll come back on Friday night.

Then! I get one day to pack for Burning Man and then we're off on Sunday!  If I survive, I'll be back about a week later, sometime in early September. Somebody please order rain for me, I'm fairly sure I'll need it. No ice, though.  I'm flying my own plane down and back again.

The videos have been pretty fun to make.  I get to try my hand at directing and acting in my own features. We covered a few bland subjects and a few interesting subjects including a fire in the cockpit today. I still vaguely smell like smoke.

Yesterday we had a visitor. He popped in to see how we do it when we aren't born with his ability. Freaking showoff. He did stop long enough to pose for a couple of pictures before he went back out the door and on his merry way. Chase is shown for scale and obligatory goofy grin:

Also, I just had a look at the radar.  This little minefield is what I'll be flying my clients back through starting on Friday. Oof. I do loves me some thunderstorm dodging but this is probably a little much. They tell me there were tornadoes today. Good times.

And now, my dear internets, I need to sign off for some much needed sleep!

How to feel wonderfully small

2009-08-15T00:26:57Z

Oh good...

2009-08-12T17:49:32Z

Surprise trip to LA!

Be back... um... ?

Important note

2009-08-12T05:39:39Z

I ate waaay too much tonight.

It isn't my fault. People raided my house and mercilessly cooked for me. Then they made me walk to this coffee shop? And they made me get some OJ and Espresso Chocolate Bundt Cake.

It was brutal. I barely survived.

A nice return

2009-08-11T14:41:56Z

Rain! I needed that. Three days in Vegas and returning to this kind of weather? It seals the deal on my love for this city so quickly that it happened in the past. Like 15 years ago.

I'll sit this morning and sip my cup of tea while enjoying the draft from my cracked open windows and the view of greeeeeeeen everywhere outside. I'm going to be late for work.

Fluff

2009-08-01T03:40:00Z

I love my condo. It's nice and cool and now that the heat of the day has gone, I've got both my windows wide open... it feels like that whole wall is open with the blinds up.

My Friday night will now consist of me hanging out in a home which makes me feel peaceful and relaxed. I'll take it.

Broken wing

2009-08-01T00:48:44Z

I apologize for putting that song in your head if i just did, but it's too fitting a title for this post.

So we have a couple of airplanes out on our ramp, right? They're the ones we rent out to people.  One of them is my new baby - a fully loaded turbo with every possible piece of wiz-bang on it and in sexy red, black, and silver colors. I like it.

Well, our neighbors, a corporate jet company, have allowed their pilots to park their cars up against the fence on the flight side - a courtesy for them so that they could just hop in their cars right away and not have to deal with the pesky walk-through of a building to get to the parking lot outside.

Yeah, one of those pilots backed into my new baby.  Totally effed up the wing. He says the sun was in his eyes but his car was over 15 feet from the plane when parked... this was just carelessness. Here's a couple of pictures. Brace yourself, this is grisly:

The pilot who hit it did the right thing and called everybody to tell the tale. At least he didn't try to hide and even had the presence of mind to put a note on the wing warning people not to fly and to contact his boss.

We had our Cirrus mechanic (who works at Auburn airport) come up and have a look.  He was impressed in a not-favorable kind of way. Said he'd see what he could do right there but would really need the plane down in Auburn to repair it. We didn't have much time to deal with the situation as it happened the day before we were to leave for a long weekend in NY... so the mech dove in and we took off.

Upon returning, I went to see the airplane and the mech had done a little work, taping the wing up with aluminum tape and sort of forcing things back into the place they should be. Clearly the wing wasn't exactly structurally sound, but it looked a little better. He told me that he had high confidence that it was flyable and would swear it was so to the FAA... which leaves a crippled airplane to be flown from Boeing to Auburn.

I hadn't done much test flying in the past few years but it was a good opportunity to do something a little outside my norm. Yay! Adventure! Excitement!

I took all the precautions you can, took an extra long takeoff roll, alerted tower that I might abort and would be reeeeallly long on the runway, and went for it. The tip flexed a little but held together just fine and I landed nary a hitch at Auburn. The controls were a little heavy and somewhat stiff but otherwise that was it.

The mechanic was all giddy when I landed. "I taped an airplane together!!"

I gave him a look. "Greg, you're way too excited about what I just flew over here... you do not cultivate confidence."

He just smiled at me and started taking the tape off.

Here's what it looked like when I flew it:

Good times.

The up-side to all this is that none of my pilots did this, it isn't our fault, and we don't have to pay anything out to fix the thing. That's a pretty sweet deal considering the cost of one of these things... and all things considered, I'd rather not have to reprimand or fire one of my people over carelessness. I don't know what will happen to the guy who did do this but I hope his employer is not too vengeful... he did do what was right and owned up to it immediately. That's worth something.

City Holiday

2009-07-29T23:30:35Z

I decree this day to henceforth be No Pants Wednesday.

As you were.

Oof

2009-07-29T20:52:16Z

I just got a call from a fellow who will be in town for the next several months as his young son undergoes a bone marrow transplant. They're here from Alaska and staying at the Ronald McDonald house. He thought that since there's a lot of sitting, they'll be here a while, and the whole family is down, each of them needs something to decompress/distract themselves. He thought learning to fly would be a great thing to do.

I could tell immediately that this guy didn't know yet that he doesn't want to work with us since we cost more, take longer because of our aircraft type, etc... but I couldn't just tell him that and hang up or (worse) try to convince him to spend money with us when we aren't right for him. We talked for about 20 minutes about what learning to fly is like, how to know what he's in for, searched the net together to get an idea of what the economy training rates are like at a couple of airports in the area, and I told him some traits to look for in a good instructor. I also asked him to call me back since I'm as unbiased as could be and would be happy to answer questions.

I find myself wondering if I could do something more for him, though. I'm afraid my hands are tied economically and I'm fairly sure taking him for a ride in a Cirrus would be more torment than grace (he'd never want to fly a Cessna)... but dang that situation is hellish and I'm overcome with an urge to help. I know I probably can't really help him, but it's still there.

I had a very close family friend who underwent the torture of bone marrow transplants when I was a teenager. Seeing what it did to him and his family made me feel some things and reminded me of some things that I hadn't seen for a while. I'll hope that this guy and his family have an easier time of it.

If you were with me today

2009-07-28T00:30:04Z

You'd have heard this conversation over the radio:

Boeing Tower: "Blue Angel 7, you're number two for the runway, following a Cirrus."

Me: "He won't need to slow down."

- then to my passengers 'I love it when I get to do this....'

Thinking about science

2009-07-23T01:35:07Z

I was reflecting last night upon the beauty of a ruby sky, glimpsed from aloft last weekend. Thanks to science, I know why the sky looked that way and why it won't tonight. I know why it lasted so long as I sped towards it. This knowledge did not diminish the awe I had for the phenomenon and if anything it increased my wonder.

I have been accused at times of stealing beauty by describing it in "cold" science. I don't see it that way at all. I think the fascination giving by understanding some phenomenon compounds its beauty in a way that makes it even more complete. All the mechanisms, all the research done by humans, all the art and poetry used to describe something which seems elegant and simple... and is! while also being so immensely complex.... these things give a depth that I think would make a rainbow cold or a waterfall flat were they missing.

"Modern science has been a voyage into the unknown, with a lesson in humility waiting at every stop. Many passengers would rather have stayed home."

-Carl Sagan