It's an odd feeling when everything starts to catch up. Laundry, dirty car, destroyed apartment, dust, work, sleep (the demand for and not receiving) Something within you begins to rebel. Begins to seethe. Begins to twitch. On a day to day, this happens to everyone. Trouble is, the relief system. Everyone has methods of zoning out, reaching Zen, blowing off steam and stabilizing before acting on such impulses as painting the far wall with the contents of the lottery ladies skull from the local quickie mart. Arguably, at least here such an argument will be made, this is defying a subtle yet necessary natural instinct to weed out from the heard the generally useless. For more than a few thousand years now, man has been slowly carving or modifying this instinct out of his day to day operation, slowly allowing the truly stupid o flourish completely unchecked. This has more than likely resulted an a -less than desirable gene pool- shallow stagnant and screaming for more than a chlorine rinse, an entire flush and drain is actually more in order but the very device that would have otherwise allowed for this has been completely numbed and subdued. Changed from an ax swinging blunt force solution to a mere grind of the teeth, we all, each and every, wait perpetually in line for the hopeless case in front of us. Shedding food stamps for cigarettes and playing the same loosing numbers as they've clung to for untold years, they prowl. Or in the same spirit of useless, the fat man at the burger bar, ordering one of everything followed by a "diet" whatever as if the absence of sugar were any hope at all for saving his lard ass from the imminent heart attack, lurking the shadows of clogged arteries overburdened with excessive blood pressure . We have endured, and coddled these people for far to long. It's either time to start loading some guns or exporting the stupid to a far away country....one with closed borders and a F.E.M.A outpost.
Once the case was made that such folks were needed, the stupid were necessary to carry out the remainder of the jobs that normal or intelligent people were unwilling to do. However to counter this, I submit that the immigrant population into our country, illegal or otherwise, have gladly picked up that torch, which by the way was dropped from the fat stubby fingers of the last cretin, and run like INS and hell were right behind them. Frankly, despite all the politicized bullshit associated with it, I truly believe that if you've come up with a clever way getting into this nation AND found a way to avoid taxation till death all the while benefiting from lazy or over burdened white people, then WELL DONE. You've found a niche and a way to actually produce in life, the same way those who never leave the trailer park or can spell the word career never will or could. I'll gladly make a trade, those who want to work in this nation for those who don't. Each can exchange to the others country. I give the trailer park community a week before they all kill each other with a lack of gun control or social norms to keep them all in check.
Anything it takes get the damn lottery lady out of my way.
Anything it takes to get that fat asshole out of the drive thru.
KW
Friday, May 2, 2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
RUN, DAMN YOU!
It happens. We get comfortable in our surroundings, our routines become set, we adapt and settle in. Complacency, much like an unchecked vine, creeps in slowly weaving in between the edges, deep into the cracks, ever bonding us to our own conclusions and small windows of the world. Cushions on a couch we’re all snuggled into. There’s nothing wrong it, to some degree it’s a natural thing. Many chalk it up as the career, the spouse, the home, the two point five, the white picket fence and the golden retriever happily waiting, slobbering on an old worn out tennis ball at the gate or drive way for the chance to play. For most people, not only is his normal, it’s a goal. Something to be obtained even against the most impossible or improbable odds, man’s hand extends out to grab this as his own. Who cares in the long run if it matters, if it’s even remembered, its stable and that’s what most people yearn for anyway, stability. Amidst the perceived chaos of jobs and life, which in itself isn’t all that chaotic and can be relatively predicted, kids grow up, go to college repeat what they’ve learned from the previous dreams of yester years generations, you grow old and hopefully not alone, the cycle carries on all the while we convince our self via stress and concern that the stability is the norm we seek and so love. Time rolls on but I’ve gotten off point. That grip, that vine, which binds us so warmly…comfortably, the boat that carries us across the ocean of time and life, safe and sound, with little to worry or care or want for…some of us are busy supercharging the engine! Some of us are busy drilling holes in the hull. Some of us are having fun, remembering that man never accomplished much by sitting in the cave throwing rocks at the sun at dawn to ward off its evil bronzing spirits, nor did we ever win any wars by smoking dope and not taking showers. Some of us are cutting the vines, tearing down the walls, feeding the dog chocolate, setting the couch on fire or seeking other chair like alternatives, living fast on an insane blend of adrenaline, caffeine, rock music, destroyed bank accounts and unadulterated (and sometimes adulterated) pure fun… AND WE’RE DAMNED DETERMINED TO TAKE YOU ALL WITH US!
Sit down. This is going be interesting.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Aches Pains and Lessons Learned
After spending six months cramped in, out, upside down and sideways around a cockpit while hauling fuel hoses, dealing with Jet setters, in house politics and the stirrings of a potential stalker(Someone else, not you Em), it occurred to me that somewhere through the duration I picked up about five pounds that I didn't previously have, nor wanted. So tonight, after such a long absence of physical effort (at least in the fitness effort direction, all other physical efforts have been purely aircraft related) I've restarted a running routine. Eight laps around an empty flight line during the last hour of slavery when the winds are calm, the sky is wide open, and no one is flying or taxing in. Between myself and whom ever the second man is, we have the terminal building and our attached ramp to ourselves. Time to put it to good use. (I'm sore as hell right now, complacency hurts)
Running has always been a good escape for me and these days it's a welcome stress relief. Although this is the beginning night of this new effort, I had previously spend months in the gym, right up till the point when the project got under way. When the work started on the Cessna, the work on my body (and the cancellation of the gym membership) came to a close. Now that she's nearing her completion I can shift focus slightly. Back to the point about stress though. I'm no where near where I wanted to be in my aviation life as I had planned. By now, I had pictured myself at the very least behind the column of a KingAir, building time and paying off loans. If not there, at the controls perhaps of a Canadian RJ. In either case, twas not to be, at least not now at this point. On the positive side, despite my delays I do, and can, claim two points that a great deal of established jet jocks, much to my own surprise, can not boast to.
One: I own, not rent, split, fractionally share, or finance my own Aircraft. This very point in and of its self at my age and place in aviation is practically unheard of and I am eternally greatfull for this fact. Many pages could be written about the pure potential that ownership implies. I'll write that book later, something along the title lines of "Luck, Looks and Pistol Whippings: How to own you're own Airplane and make it in Aviation without owing your soul to VISA"
Two: I am not burdened down with debt in any form. The majority of young pilots my age, flying any given aircraft at this very moment are strapped for amounts that can range between a few thousand dollars, or (and in the case of a good friend I have here at Lakeland) close too 200,000 plus, tack on interest and you can imagine why so many starting pilots out there are not the happiest of individuals. Trying extending the college roommate experience and live off Ramen noodles a few extra years and you get the idea. And we're all working toward the same goals. Paying jobs. Paying jobs in the field we love, that we are so dedicated to that we are willing to sacrifice relationships...close friends...family...financial stability and uncertainty for years to come...and time in order to obtain. Time is something that every pilot always wants more of. More time to practice important flight maneuvers. More time to dedicate to cross country flights. More time to be inked into the all important log books. Time. Ever single second, even to the most minute click of a stop watch hand or roll of a digital display, in the air, every sweat earned chronological moment counts. Within aviation two roads can be taken to take yourself to the coveted position of Captain, in any airframe, for any company. One route, and the one more vastly popular as the demand for pilots comes to a fevered pitch, is through academy or flight school training. Although quick, and known for producing quality pilots (in most cases) it's also the biggest pitfall. Debt, debt, and more debt will be accrued. The for mentioned friend I have, will start his new life (a change over to Air Traffic Control even after obtainment of every rating save for ATP) at a six figure average. Sounds promising. Factor in his debt plus interest and even if he can dedicate 10K per year to the sum total, he won't be free and clear till some time around twenty years down the road. Twenty years, he's already 28. So at the grand close of 50ish, he'll break even, without an aircraft and will probably float a mortgage from that point forward. By comparison, having no debt, minus the cost of ownership, I will take a longer road to arrive at the same place in ratings, but I will not fret the next twenty years while my eyes get worse, my joints stiffen, and arthritis slowly begins its creep toward my hands. No, I will be much better off. The punchline is the same either way, academy grad or self propelled student, the only thing that counts is the time in the logbook. Doesn't matter if it comes from dropping skydivers, or flying sims for countless months, the only thing that matters is how much time is in that little back log book.
My greatest problem at this stage in the game is my growing impatiences. Even with all the knowledge , all the numbers and all the fingers pointing in the same correct direction (stay out of debt), I still grind my teeth to think that although close to complete, my bird is still on the ground. Something I'll have to work on. Not one to end on a down note however (ask Mozart about his popularity for doing that) I will smile and convey to you, dear reader, that interesting things lie ahead for me at Lakeland Airport. Some I can speak of, some I've been asked to remain quizzically silent on until the time is proper. (It's amazing how flustered some people can get over silence and a smile)
Of that I can speak of, Lakeland is receiving a new flight school. Appropriately enough this is the same flight school from which I bough my now loved Cessna. Leading Edge is coming to Landmark. The new school will feature training and sales of Cirrus SR22's (realistically no basic flight student could ever afford one but it's nice to learn in a glass cockpit) In a surprising conversation had with owner, who's branching out from his home airport at Vandenberg, I've been asked in no uncertain terms if I would like to join the team once I have my CFI and commercial tickets in hand. To say that this is exciting would merely expose an iceberg tip of the growing feeling (and shameless smile) I harbor just below he surface. A paid (well paid I might add) flight instructor position is something I've had my sights set on since I stepped foot on the tarmac here. Motivation to get my training back in high gear. I've already re-cracked the IFR books and have the other Gleims manuals on order. The cute, curly blond with bright eyes who's transferring over from V-town, doesn't hurt the freshly added fuel to the fire either. Here's to steep climbs and hard banks. Never could I be having more fun. :)
KW
Next episode: T-hanger rent, grass runways and how to, and not to, land a tail dragger.
Running has always been a good escape for me and these days it's a welcome stress relief. Although this is the beginning night of this new effort, I had previously spend months in the gym, right up till the point when the project got under way. When the work started on the Cessna, the work on my body (and the cancellation of the gym membership) came to a close. Now that she's nearing her completion I can shift focus slightly. Back to the point about stress though. I'm no where near where I wanted to be in my aviation life as I had planned. By now, I had pictured myself at the very least behind the column of a KingAir, building time and paying off loans. If not there, at the controls perhaps of a Canadian RJ. In either case, twas not to be, at least not now at this point. On the positive side, despite my delays I do, and can, claim two points that a great deal of established jet jocks, much to my own surprise, can not boast to.
One: I own, not rent, split, fractionally share, or finance my own Aircraft. This very point in and of its self at my age and place in aviation is practically unheard of and I am eternally greatfull for this fact. Many pages could be written about the pure potential that ownership implies. I'll write that book later, something along the title lines of "Luck, Looks and Pistol Whippings: How to own you're own Airplane and make it in Aviation without owing your soul to VISA"Two: I am not burdened down with debt in any form. The majority of young pilots my age, flying any given aircraft at this very moment are strapped for amounts that can range between a few thousand dollars, or (and in the case of a good friend I have here at Lakeland) close too 200,000 plus, tack on interest and you can imagine why so many starting pilots out there are not the happiest of individuals. Trying extending the college roommate experience and live off Ramen noodles a few extra years and you get the idea. And we're all working toward the same goals. Paying jobs. Paying jobs in the field we love, that we are so dedicated to that we are willing to sacrifice relationships...close friends...family...financial stability and uncertainty for years to come...and time in order to obtain. Time is something that every pilot always wants more of. More time to practice important flight maneuvers. More time to dedicate to cross country flights. More time to be inked into the all important log books. Time. Ever single second, even to the most minute click of a stop watch hand or roll of a digital display, in the air, every sweat earned chronological moment counts. Within aviation two roads can be taken to take yourself to the coveted position of Captain, in any airframe, for any company. One route, and the one more vastly popular as the demand for pilots comes to a fevered pitch, is through academy or flight school training. Although quick, and known for producing quality pilots (in most cases) it's also the biggest pitfall. Debt, debt, and more debt will be accrued. The for mentioned friend I have, will start his new life (a change over to Air Traffic Control even after obtainment of every rating save for ATP) at a six figure average. Sounds promising. Factor in his debt plus interest and even if he can dedicate 10K per year to the sum total, he won't be free and clear till some time around twenty years down the road. Twenty years, he's already 28. So at the grand close of 50ish, he'll break even, without an aircraft and will probably float a mortgage from that point forward. By comparison, having no debt, minus the cost of ownership, I will take a longer road to arrive at the same place in ratings, but I will not fret the next twenty years while my eyes get worse, my joints stiffen, and arthritis slowly begins its creep toward my hands. No, I will be much better off. The punchline is the same either way, academy grad or self propelled student, the only thing that counts is the time in the logbook. Doesn't matter if it comes from dropping skydivers, or flying sims for countless months, the only thing that matters is how much time is in that little back log book.
My greatest problem at this stage in the game is my growing impatiences. Even with all the knowledge , all the numbers and all the fingers pointing in the same correct direction (stay out of debt), I still grind my teeth to think that although close to complete, my bird is still on the ground. Something I'll have to work on. Not one to end on a down note however (ask Mozart about his popularity for doing that) I will smile and convey to you, dear reader, that interesting things lie ahead for me at Lakeland Airport. Some I can speak of, some I've been asked to remain quizzically silent on until the time is proper. (It's amazing how flustered some people can get over silence and a smile)
Of that I can speak of, Lakeland is receiving a new flight school. Appropriately enough this is the same flight school from which I bough my now loved Cessna. Leading Edge is coming to Landmark. The new school will feature training and sales of Cirrus SR22's (realistically no basic flight student could ever afford one but it's nice to learn in a glass cockpit) In a surprising conversation had with owner, who's branching out from his home airport at Vandenberg, I've been asked in no uncertain terms if I would like to join the team once I have my CFI and commercial tickets in hand. To say that this is exciting would merely expose an iceberg tip of the growing feeling (and shameless smile) I harbor just below he surface. A paid (well paid I might add) flight instructor position is something I've had my sights set on since I stepped foot on the tarmac here. Motivation to get my training back in high gear. I've already re-cracked the IFR books and have the other Gleims manuals on order. The cute, curly blond with bright eyes who's transferring over from V-town, doesn't hurt the freshly added fuel to the fire either. Here's to steep climbs and hard banks. Never could I be having more fun. :)
KW
Next episode: T-hanger rent, grass runways and how to, and not to, land a tail dragger.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Sun N Fun, Frustration and Falling Short
After two solid days of sanding the right wing to the point of grinding away my finger prints (BTW now would be a great time to rob a bank I think) and adding up the sum total of the remaining things to be done to bring Checkers back to flying status, I've come to the regretful and sigh inducing conclusion that due to work and the lack of available time to dedicate to the project I will not b making the debut for Sun N Fun. To some degree this is heart breaking, culminating seven months of effort to fall just oh so tragically short. The bird will no doubt be in the sky by the end of April, nothing a good two week of solid full time effort could produce but with the insanity that becomes my place of work during Sun N Fun, and the complete unpredictability of a schedule, it's simply too much for one man to do. The A&P who's over my shoulder on this one is just as swamped as he works a the same place as I. So each day I progress a step further, less added pressure now without a deadline looming.
KW
KW
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Cessna 150 Rebirth
Getting Closer.
Ready For White.
Ready for Registration Number
Ready for Display. (Note: That's not me in the photo's, that would be the grand master mechanic/renaissance original.)
Next Steps: Wings, Tail feathers, and interior. Getting Damn Close Folks.
KW
Ready For White.
Ready for Registration Number
Ready for Display. (Note: That's not me in the photo's, that would be the grand master mechanic/renaissance original.)
Next Steps: Wings, Tail feathers, and interior. Getting Damn Close Folks.
KW
Monday, March 3, 2008
RED!
Saturday, March 1, 2008
He's Still Alive!
Fuselage: Ready for Paint
Control surface refurbishment: Complete
Landing Gear: Complete and installed
Interior: Boxed and ready to install
Avionics: Gauges refurbished and ready for installation
Radios tested and ready for installation
RNAV gauges calibrated and ready for installation
Transponder/encoder calibrated and ready for installation
Wings: On standby for paint shop. Next to be completed.
Countdown to Final assembly begins.
ETA: 4 weeks to first test flight.
...Here we go ;)
KW
Control surface refurbishment: Complete
Landing Gear: Complete and installed
Interior: Boxed and ready to install
Avionics: Gauges refurbished and ready for installation
Radios tested and ready for installation
RNAV gauges calibrated and ready for installation
Transponder/encoder calibrated and ready for installation
Wings: On standby for paint shop. Next to be completed.
Countdown to Final assembly begins.
ETA: 4 weeks to first test flight.
...Here we go ;)
KW
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