Category: Lessons Learned
Thoughts on a Twenty Minute Walk in the Airport
I cannot emphasize enough how genius P.D. Eastman’s “Go, Dog. Go!” is. Nearly every description about the people (and dogs) I just witnessed is contained by that delightful children’s story.
Then again, it didn’t include a woman running in casual attire, or a pilot in the shoe-shine station informing ShoeShine Joe that his pants were tight.
It didn’t include a dad yelling out to his kids that while they were allowed to pointlessly ride the moving sidewalk, they could not run on it.
It didn’t include a man declaring, “He doesn’t even know how to build a client!” into his phone, or a pretty boy young man who made the command, and ill-advised, decision to wear boat shoes—without socks—as a complement to his fashionable ensemble and who now had his (red achilles adorned) heels on the outside/top of the back, almost like they were the newer convertible house shoes I have seen purpose-built with an optional fold-down heel, but, of course, his shoes didn’t have that feature.
The many heathen tongues abounded, too. P.D. didn’t see that coming.
Overall, it was another reminder that it’s a big world, full of people trying to go places. Most are ugly and won’t look you in the eye.
A “Perfect 10” Day
There’s scene in the infamous Nick Cage film “Con Air” where a someone reads a letter from his kid which includes childlike exuberance at all the synchronicity that is unfolding. Something like, “Today is my birthday. Today is my dad’s birthday. Today is the day my dad gets out of jail. Etc etc.”
Heartwarming stuff.
Today, I feel exactly like that kid. It’s going to be a great day!
This is due to the fact that I am about to finish the last 70 odd pages of the 10th Volume of the 10 Volume Gateway to the Great Books series! And today’s date is the 13th, which is 3 plus…10! And right now we’re in the…10th hour of the day! And the authors of the day all once were 10 years old!
On Indian Plane Crash Preliminary Report
I figure faithful readers might be curious what their pilot blogger thinks about the recently published findings about the airline disaster in India.
In short, the findings are: according to cockpit recordings, one of the two pilots looked down and saw a fuel switch “off” when it should’ve been “on”. (For reference/context my helicopter doesn’t have such a switch—there is a cutoff lever for stop fuel flow during fires, but digital technology keeps the engine going.)
That pilot says (paraphrase), “Why did you cutoff the fuel?” The other pilot answers, “I didn’t.”
They then attempted to fix the situation and didn’t have time.
When boys are freely being boys, there is a game/mentality where you do the “wrong” thing as you blame it on the other person. Like, the older brother grabbing his younger brother’s hand and using it against him while saying, “Stop hitting yourself! Stop hitting yourself!” It’s hilarious.
That is the way I perceive these facts, as presented.
Also for reference, the USAF teaches, regarding field of “switchology”, that in crew aircraft (and I will often do it still by myself) the best practices included stating, “I have identified the xx switch.” Followed by, “I am placing the switch in the xx position.” Put militarily, “No fast hands in the cockpit.”
It is very difficult for me to imagine that the “I didn’t” pilot was lying. And a mistaken action during this “critical phase of flight” is just as difficult. So my experience tells me the inquisitor flipped it (for probably forever mysterious reasons) and then caused confusion by “Why did YOU do that?” questioning, for whatever other forever mysterious reasons.
To be clear, the switch has a feature which requires the pilot (or anyone) to first it pull up and then flip it. This mechanical feature was designed so that it/critical-switches cannot be “bumped” accidentally.
Now you know. I wish I could provide better consolation.
Who Knew?
Who knew that the rivers would flood to the extent that they did?
That is the only question that matters. Who knew?
Not, “What were the warnings?” Not, “Would pre-DOGE situation have known?” Not, “When did…?” No.
Who knew?
Is there any meteorologist that would claim that they were interpreting the data and the data suggested that what happened was possible to happen?
Who knew?
If the meteorologists thought, “Zero chance of 26ft rise, but non-zero chance of 25 foot rise,” then we want to know that.
If they thought, “Unlikely, but non-zero chance of 26ft rise,” then we want to know.
None of the other questions matter until someone admits that they knew the floods could happen precisely as the floods did happen. It doesn’t matter which warning system was in place. It doesn’t matter when the warnings were given. DOGE doesn’t matter. Nothing matters until we learn if any human being on earth (likely a meteorologist in TX) knew that the floods would play out as they did play out.
I, for one, did not know that what happened in TX was possible.
What I want to know now is who did know.
About the “Please Sit” Metallica Concert Moment
I like to be “in touch”. I also like to be “right”.
This scene from last weekend’s (end of June) Metallica concert keeps creeping into my thoughts.
Was she right in making her request? Was I wrong in saying, “No.” Was she wrong in making her request? Was I right in saying, “No”?
Rising to the surface of my analysis is this. Somewhere along the line, Metallica flipped from “feared” to “loved”.
Conversely, I (nearly) worship Metallica. Additionally, I believe that only 1. a biblically-informed Christian or 2. true Metallica fan can understand my perspective on “the four guys”, as my three and four year olds have come to call them.
When did they become beloved? After releasing Death Magnetic.
James’ sobriety and naturally increasing maturity probably had something to do with it too.
In any case, take it from a presumably “nice guy”, if you’re thinking of asking someone to sit for Metallica, if you’re thinking someone who is a “bigger” fan than you can “ruin” your experience, then let me be the first to tell you, “You’re thinking poorly.”
Thoughts On Metallica’s Denver Shows
I stood in awe on Night One when they entered Mile High. And I never sat down again. The professionalism, the polish, the poise—it’s perfect. I do not attend many concerts (mostly Metallica and various symphonies) but Metallica is doing something other musicians aren’t. Which leads me to my next thought.
Is it time? Can we finally admit that Metallica just writes better songs? Their songs are just better. That’s why their fanbase is among the largest ever amassed.
Night One, as I said, I stood the entire show. I was in section 309–essentially the fifty-yard line—half-way up the section. Pretty great seats. At times, between songs, I spun around to see how the crowd was doing and was surprised to find them all sitting. “Oh well. No problem,” I thought. “I’ll just motivate them.” And I did. Metallica was down there giving us their all, the least we can do is give our all. Some, not all, got the memo.
Night Two (last night), after Pantera, before they took the stage, I felt a tap on the shoulder and turned around to see a man signaling the lady two rows up is who wanted my attention. As my eyes continued the journey, they landed on what we all would’ve recognized as our high school Algebra 2 teacher. Undeterred from having a good time, I immediately said, “Are you ready!?” She gave me a, “Yes.” And then she proceeded to describe to me how horrible it was on Night One because I stood and blocked her view. Naturally she followed this speech by asking, “At least on a couple songs could you sit down?”
Wow.
Given the movie that recently released, and using the 10% truth rule of Air Force Performance Reports, I asked her, “Did Metallica save your life?”
She didn’t seem to get it.
The other fans were only mildly interested in this back-and-forth. I listened for longer than any heathen fan would have and dryly concluded, “I will be standing.”
She continued to lament to all around her in a whiny, relentless, disbelieving manner (partly ashamed she had asked such a thing, I had to imagine) and I turned to acknowledge her again—again, trying to show respect for her effort. This time, because it was loud, I randomly found myself making the “sorry” ASL fist circle over my heart, which drew a laugh from a mom my age, there with her husband and their teenage daughter. I can’t be sure she “signs” but I think she could “feel” the moment and appreciated my attempts to respect this Miss Nelson, or Mrs. Tietz as it were if memory serves.
“Metallica is Metallica.” Integrity in the flesh. That might sum my thoughts up best. They don’t pretend. They are just simply the best band on the planet, writing the best songs—the definitive band. We can all learn from Metallica. We all owe Metallica. The influence of Metallica is worldwide and enduring.
Was that it? That’s my only question. Will I ever see them perform again? Lars was more vague than normal on his, “Denvah!! We’ll see you again not soon enough!” farewell.
I don’t enjoy the thought that that was it for me. But I do think the world will witness something unlike it has ever seen when the actual end comes for them. What king, what leader, what celebrity has ever accomplished so much for so many?
No, ma’am. People don’t “sit for a couple songs”. When people have taken full account of their lives, people stand for Metallica.
(And for the “W” see this clip from after the show and after the lights came on.)
Two Novel Thoughts As We Wait (Wink Wink) on Iran
Firstly, I love how the media made Iraq out to be some super fighting force in the days Desert Storm 1. The big claim was “fifth strongest” military in the world. But let’s run with this. They were wrong. Next, Afghanistan was supposed to be cavemen. Now, the media wants me to be worried about Iran’s response. Did you they not see the response that the strike aircraft saw? Zero. Zilch. Nada. No response. They didn’t even know the planes were in the air. But sure, media (wink wink), we’ll wait for the response.
Secondly, this is the largest attack/action that has occurred in my non-fighting age days. As in, 9/11 was a large impetus for my wanting to join the AF. And I did join the AF to help get revenge. But right now, even if WW3 somehow starts, I have a new feeling like, “Well, I hope my company doesn’t fold during the war. I don’t know how else to make money.”
Time will tell.
Bomb Shelters In North Vietnam
So I’m reading Reporting Vietnam, published by the Library of America. It consists entirely of articles from throughout the war.
The last article I read mentioned how President Johnson, in March of 1968 declared that due to the fact that during war the President need to focus his attention entirely on the war, he wouldn’t be running for re-election (can’t mix campaigning). This article also mentioned that by this time many advisors of his wanted to stop bombing the North.
I repeat, many advisors wanted to stop bombing the North.
To be sure, fact: America and South Vietnam were bombing North Vietnam.
Today’s article includes, “Outside Hanoi, the driver’s first job, I discovered, was to look for a shelter for the passengers whenever the alert or the pre-alert sounded. Every hamlet, sometimes every house, is equipped with a loud-speaker, and the alarm is rung out by the hamlet bell…When there is no hamlet nearby, a band of soldiers, tramping along with a transistor radio, may warn you that planes are coming.”
Fact: the NV commies had decided they wanted to live and so built and used bomb shelters.
****
Like fish which breathe in the water, or Everest climbers who pack oxygen for their summit, it seems that there are “tells”, if you will, that can be used to make sense of life on Earth. Can’t breathe underwater? Probably don’t live there.
One such “tell” that you live in a country that is being “bombed” is the presence of “bomb shelters.”
Final question in today’s lesson: What, then, does it mean if you claim to be “bombed” but have no bomb shelters?
Bonus question: What does it mean if you repeat the claim that some country is consistently being bombed, without ever thinking to ask, “Do they have bomb shelters?”
(Answers: 1. The claim is a lie. And 2. You’re a demonstrable fool.)
Do I Make It Rain?
Obama breaks silence.
Did you see how soon it was after I expressed sincere desire to hear his thoughts? To be clear, I am declaring that I manifested it.
If you missed it, here is what he said.
“Thirteen years ago, my administration acted to protect young people who were American in every single way but one: on paper.
DACA was an example of how we can be a nation of immigrants and a nation of laws. And it’s an example worth remembering today, when families with similar backgrounds who just want to live, work, and support their communities, are being demonized and treated as enemies.
We can fix our broken immigration system while still recognizing our common humanity and treating each other with dignity and respect. In fact, it’s the only way we ever will.”
Decent, if weak, opening.
Second para is trash entirely. “Who just want to live” is as disrespectful as it gets.
Third para brings to mind the question: just how much dignity is required to fulfill the definition of dignity?
People are told, “You can self-identify and leave.” That seems dignified.
Then they are not physically abused during their arrest. Seems pretty dignified to me.
They are fed for free. That seems dignified.
I just don‘t know what more is necessary. Many Americans would be fine with much more aggressive tactics and techniques to resolve the “paperwork.”
In the end, Obama played his role perfectly—while demonstrating again that he has no power besides attracting our attention.
On the Perfection of the Bite of EMB
When the entire topping comes off the dough at once, the flavor is out of balance.
But let me be clear: when you bite into a slice of Little Caesar’s Extra Most Bestest Pepperoni and the sauce temp and amount is not so hot or plentiful as to give caution to the maneuver, I’m talking about the act of cleanly biting off a piece from the pizza slice, you are nearer heavenly rhapsodies than even the inspired writers of scripture could express in words.
In a word, it is perfection.
Captain’s Log 