This Is Not An Original Work

Saw this in a newsletter here at school...

One fine hot summer's afternoon I saw a Piper Cub flying in the pattern at a quiet country airfield. The CFI was getting bothered with the student's inability to maintain altitude in the thermals and was getting impatient at sometimes having to take over the controls. Just then he saw a twin engine Cessna 5,000 feet above him and thought, "Another 1,000 hours of this and I qualify for that twin charter job! Aahh, to be a real pilot...going somewhere!"

The Cessna 402 was already late, and the boss told him this charter was for one of the company's premier clients. He'd already set MCT and the cylinders tidn't like it in the heat of this summer's day. He was at 6,000 feet and the winds were now a 20-knot headwind. Today was the sixth day straight, and he was pretty tired of fighting these engines. Maybe if he got 10,000 feet out of them the wind might die off. Geez, those cylinder temps! He looked out momentarily and saw a B737 leaving a contrail at 33,000 feet in the serene blue sky. "oh man," he thought. "My interview is next month. I hope I just don't blow it! Outta G/A, nice jet job, above the weather...no snotty passengers to wait for...aahh."

The Boeing 737 bucked and weaved in the heavy CAT at FL330 and ATC advised that lower levels were not available due to traffic. The Captain, who was only recently advised that his destination was below RVR minimums, had slowed to LRC to try and hold off a possible in-flight diversion and arrange an ETA that would hopefully ensure the fog had lifted to CATII minimums. The Company negotiations broke down yesterday and it looked as if everyone was going to take a pay cut. The F/O's will be particularly hard hit as their pay wasn't anything to speak of anyway.

Finally deciding on a speed compromise between LRC and turbulence penetration, the Captain now looked up and saw a Concorde at Mach 2+. Tapping his F/O's shoulder as the 737 took another bashing, he said "Now THAT'S what we should be on...huge pay...super fast...not too many routes...not too many legs...above the CAT! Yup, what a life!"

FL590 was not what he wanted anyways and considered FL570. Already the TAT was creeping up again and either they would have to descend or slow down. That rear fuel transfer pump was becoiming unreliable and the F/E had said moments ago that the radiation meter was not reading numbers that he'd like to see. The Concorde descended to FL570, but the radiation was still quite high even though the NOTAM indicated hunky dory below FL610. Flue Flow was up and the transfer pump was intermittent. Evening turned into night as they passed over the Atlantic. Looking up, the F/O could see a tiny white dot moving against the backdrop of a myriad of stars. "Hey Captain," he called as he pointed. "Must be the Shuttle."

The Captain looked up for a moment and agreed. Quietly he thought how a Shuttle mission, while complicated, must be the be-all and end-all in aviation. Above the crap, no radiation problems, no damn fuel transfer problems. "Aahh, must be a great way to earn a buck."

Discovery was into it's 27th orbit and perigee was out from nominated rendezvous altitude with the commsat. The robot arm was virtually U/S and a walk may become necessary. The 200 foot predicted error would necessitate a corrective burn and Discovery would need that fuel if a walk was to be required.

Houston continually asked what the Commander wanted to do, but the advice they proffered wasn't much help. The Commander had already been 12 hours on station sorting out the problem and just wanted 10 minutes to himself for a bathroom break. Just then a mission specialist, who had tilted the telescope down to the surface for a minute or two, called the Commander to the scope. "Have a look at this, Sir. Isn't this the kind of flying you said you wanted to do after you finish up with NASA?"

The Commander peered through the telescope and cried, "Oooh, yeah! Now THAT'S flying! Man, that's what it's all about! Geez, I'd give my left leg just to be doing THAT down there!"

What the Discovery Commander was looking at was a yellow Cub in a pattern at a quiet country airfield on a nice bright sunny afternoon.

TRH

I Don't Want To Grow Up, I'm A Toys-R-Us Kid...

I'm turning 21 on Saturday. It's big for me, because suddenly I'm allowed to buy alcohol. Outside of getting better insurance rates and being allowed to rent a car using a means other than credit-card or massive deposit at 25, I can't think of any big things the government has yet to allow me to do based on age.

Well, excepting 23, when I am allowed by the FAA to get an Air Transport Pilot Certificate, but that doesn't apply to most folks, so it doesn't count.

Nevertheless, I particularly don't want to grow up. People are confused by this, but that's really because I don't tell them the whole truth. I guess the closest I've come is to saying that I don't want to be a grown-up as defined by my parents because I feel so different from them, but really it's because I'm afraid I'll be like my father.

Yep. Simple as that. Don't wanna be my dad, cause he's a dick. He was abusive both physically and emotionally to me and my siblings, and he's not somebody I particularly need in my life. He tries to call me every once in a while. I let it roll to voicemail, listen to him asking me to call him on the message and then delete it. I glean a bit of joy knowing that his children don't talk to him. I hope he feels ashamed of himself.

Meanwhile, I find myself getting angry and doing things disturbingly similar to how he did them, handling my problems with violence and blaming others for stuff. Later I realize what I do isn't okay, but it's just how I know how to handle problems, and I'm worried that one of these days I might seriously hurt somebody. At least it won't be too bad, it's not like I work out or anything, but I imagine a fist to the face doesn't feel to good for either involved.

TRH

I Want To Conquer The World

I've been flying a lot recently. A tiny little tailwheel acro plane for UND, and a retractable-gear airplane for the same. Out at Crookston, where I rent out of, I've flown their Cessna 150 a couple times. It's sort of like a hang-glider with an engine attached and a windshield.

Meanwhile, I'm planning a trip to the cities with a couple friends to go to a concert the weekend before finals, and we're planning on flying down there in the Crookston Warrior. At current state, I'm the only one checked out on that plane, although Cass, a friend going with, might be checked out by then. Or at least, she'd better be, she owes me a flight.

It keeps me quite upbeat, that level of busy. It's stressful, but I find I'm most content when I'm at my optimal stress level. I like my downtime, but I also like doing logistics, scheduling things, thinking about travel times, making stuff work out, organizing and such.

It's expensive, but I'm hoping to get extra hours at work or possibly a second job so as to augment my income and fly a lot. Speaking of money...

I've been looking at internships. Thing is, they interrupt my schedule. I know that I want to be here this summer and fall, but perhaps spring, when I would be taking my CFI-Instrument? It takes a lot for me to give up a semester like that, but it might be a very good thing in the long run. I hear a lot of people saying that aviation internships aren't so much an internship as they are an extended interview. I'd have to be on my best behavior, but if I could get a job offer out of it...well, that's worth a semester to me.

Which is important, because I'll make my initial graduation by end of next year. I'll have another year after that, but that one seems like an option for me, almost a fallback. Something to do and to keep my student loans at bay while I look for a job.

Weird, but I'm actually getting out there.

TRH

Greed

Yes, I'm greedy. I yearn to make ends meet, but at the same time I live alone in a two-bed apartment that costs, once utilities are included, about $600 per month. Naturally, I could halve many of my costs by recruiting a roommate to put in the other room, but my landlord wouldn't like that at all and frankly neither would I. I've lived with roommates in the past, and indeed one of them is now my best friend, but I honestly love having my own place. Freedom to decorate as I please; I can watch TV whenever I want; I can put my music on as I please; I don't have to worry about somebody else moving my stuff.

The last place I was in one of my roommates was a bit of an asshole and a neat-freak. They had an island in the kitchen and my god did I love that island. I'd come home and toss my stuff on it, throw my coat over a chair back and head to my room. When I came out of my room, oftentimes I'd find my stuff moved to the wall next to my room and the island clear of anything. He didn't move my stuff because he needed the space, and he didn't ask me if he could, and he didn't ever talk to me about not putting my stuff on the counter. One day when I had been living there for a couple months he decided that it was OK for him to move my stuff. He's pretty damn lucky I'm an easygoing guy.

The point is that right now on my couch (I'm in class at school right now) there's a clipboard, a pair of sunglasses and a sweatshirt. Nobody's going to move that stuff because it's my place! And when I'm watching TV, nobody's going to come in and ask me about what I'm watching! Because it's my place! And I'm willing to pay extra for that. So sue me if it's a bit expensive and there are poor starving children in Africa, or any other organization that could use my time and money. Frankly, that takes too much work.

TRH