This is actually Real Life at its finest.
The finish line is coming up folks, it all comes down to the next few days and my future as well as yours and every other Americans, as quite possibly the worlds, will be forever changed as we elect a new representative to lead us out of the last eight year disastrous quagmire that will be known as the Bush legacy.
I'll make opinion clear and simple.
Obama: May actually save us from ourselves. Could also get assassinated.
McCain: George Orwell's 1984 becomes realized. Could lead to a riot from my "20 somethings" Generation.
Conclusion: God Help Us All
Friday, October 31, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Say it again Tower!
I've just finished watching two of the most interesting and underrated movies that have been produced by our magnificent Motion Picture industry and both deal with an all to familiar theme that in one way or another effected the way know life today in both the Aviation world and the Grid Iron pigskin game America loves the nation over. Although both movies are works of fiction they both tackle an intrusive element that made its way so mysteriously into each at the cheers for some and the folly and reluctant acceptance of others.
Rules.
In aviation there are two books produced by our so benevolent FAA known as the FAR/AIM collection, or some would suggest the "bible" of the air. Others would claim the large heavy paper back as a truly effective doorstop when nothing else will stop the breeze from slamming the door. Within these pages are the "rules" or guidelines to which any aviating will be conducted. In the film "The Great Waldo Pepper" the issue of these new rules becoming the new standards in the mid 1920's and the elimination of the art of barnstorming and business of flying circuses while following the man himself as he struggles to survive in a brave (albeit it, a little boring) world. As with any great struggle between an immovable object, our hero must succumb to the new generation of flying, sacrificing all that he loves about it, or be rail-roaded over, the FAA (then the CAA) stopping for no man.
The second film came from the hands of George Clooney, who seems to have found a knack for period based cinema with his film Leather Heads. Battling a failing venture, the professional football team of yore was unrealized till college popularity began to pack stadiums, but with popularity comes again the need for rules and regulation and again our hero in this film is forced to either conform to the rules of a world he doesn't know or want, or again be run over passed by it.
Professional football at the turn of the 1920's was not unlike GA in it's toddling years in this pilots eyes, in that there were no real rules. Just set of guidelines meant to suggest certain items of common sense be adhered to. The same number of players should be butting heads on the field in football. When the ducks are walking, it might be a good idea to stay on the ground. NOW though we have entire sets of rules, regulations, time clocks to be watched, procedures, different nomenclatures, and the games and the flying of today wouldn't be recognized by the forefathers who delivered to us these wonderful distractions. Professional football players are more o less taken from raw talent and manufactures into cash generating machines for owners, providing bigger, faster, louder games that mere tights and leather head gear would never be able to keep up with. Barnstormers and the flying circuses have faded into the past time giving way to scheduled airlines, air freight, and fast efficient travel.
So one must wonder, is the soul still there? In what has become our past time of grid iron does there still exist a love of the game, a soul at which we all rally around and connect with? Is the game still fundamentally the same in that anyone who's willing can have fun in some way? Does a set of wings still inspire the stirring emotions of freedom from the worlds woes? Do aviator's, not just pilots, still exist? Are there men and women alike who stop in mid conversation to stare overhead at the sounds of passing engines, radial, in-line or other? I believe that in both cases the answer is unarguably Yes.
Any given weekend in either of the two passions, green park impromptu games can and do spring up, and at any given airport within reasonable distance with a decent greasy spoon will find patronage soaring their way. Do the rules and regulations provide choking restrictions that would otherwise inhibit the favorites of many a player and pilot? Or do they simply provide for a degree of safety and universal organization that allows for fairness and control where there would otherwise be improve from one end of the nation to the next. Given, some of the more lovable goofball antics have disappeared from football, just as have flying down main streets in small towns to stirrup attention have vanished to the wayside. Arguably more fun on the football field, in flying though, scaring the hell out of the local populace tends to antagonize the community against the GA world.
So to say that I'm totally sold on he rules could merely be a half truth. It's always fun to see the unexpected pitched in between the goal posts, the occasional low level pass over an empty pasture but all in all, the ones that we have seem to suffice and do provide the structure by which we can all at the very least agree. Long live the backyard BBQ, the in zone at the clothes line understanding , the short field final approaches and long well trimmed grass runways.
KW
Rules.
In aviation there are two books produced by our so benevolent FAA known as the FAR/AIM collection, or some would suggest the "bible" of the air. Others would claim the large heavy paper back as a truly effective doorstop when nothing else will stop the breeze from slamming the door. Within these pages are the "rules" or guidelines to which any aviating will be conducted. In the film "The Great Waldo Pepper" the issue of these new rules becoming the new standards in the mid 1920's and the elimination of the art of barnstorming and business of flying circuses while following the man himself as he struggles to survive in a brave (albeit it, a little boring) world. As with any great struggle between an immovable object, our hero must succumb to the new generation of flying, sacrificing all that he loves about it, or be rail-roaded over, the FAA (then the CAA) stopping for no man.
The second film came from the hands of George Clooney, who seems to have found a knack for period based cinema with his film Leather Heads. Battling a failing venture, the professional football team of yore was unrealized till college popularity began to pack stadiums, but with popularity comes again the need for rules and regulation and again our hero in this film is forced to either conform to the rules of a world he doesn't know or want, or again be run over passed by it.
Professional football at the turn of the 1920's was not unlike GA in it's toddling years in this pilots eyes, in that there were no real rules. Just set of guidelines meant to suggest certain items of common sense be adhered to. The same number of players should be butting heads on the field in football. When the ducks are walking, it might be a good idea to stay on the ground. NOW though we have entire sets of rules, regulations, time clocks to be watched, procedures, different nomenclatures, and the games and the flying of today wouldn't be recognized by the forefathers who delivered to us these wonderful distractions. Professional football players are more o less taken from raw talent and manufactures into cash generating machines for owners, providing bigger, faster, louder games that mere tights and leather head gear would never be able to keep up with. Barnstormers and the flying circuses have faded into the past time giving way to scheduled airlines, air freight, and fast efficient travel.
So one must wonder, is the soul still there? In what has become our past time of grid iron does there still exist a love of the game, a soul at which we all rally around and connect with? Is the game still fundamentally the same in that anyone who's willing can have fun in some way? Does a set of wings still inspire the stirring emotions of freedom from the worlds woes? Do aviator's, not just pilots, still exist? Are there men and women alike who stop in mid conversation to stare overhead at the sounds of passing engines, radial, in-line or other? I believe that in both cases the answer is unarguably Yes.
Any given weekend in either of the two passions, green park impromptu games can and do spring up, and at any given airport within reasonable distance with a decent greasy spoon will find patronage soaring their way. Do the rules and regulations provide choking restrictions that would otherwise inhibit the favorites of many a player and pilot? Or do they simply provide for a degree of safety and universal organization that allows for fairness and control where there would otherwise be improve from one end of the nation to the next. Given, some of the more lovable goofball antics have disappeared from football, just as have flying down main streets in small towns to stirrup attention have vanished to the wayside. Arguably more fun on the football field, in flying though, scaring the hell out of the local populace tends to antagonize the community against the GA world.
So to say that I'm totally sold on he rules could merely be a half truth. It's always fun to see the unexpected pitched in between the goal posts, the occasional low level pass over an empty pasture but all in all, the ones that we have seem to suffice and do provide the structure by which we can all at the very least agree. Long live the backyard BBQ, the in zone at the clothes line understanding , the short field final approaches and long well trimmed grass runways.
KW
Friday, October 10, 2008
Our Current Situation
First and foremost I must take this opportunity to apologize for not posting for around two weeks. Time has simply slipped away and Uncle Sam did ask my attention be elsewhere for a short period, so on that, sorry for having not kept up. Now to get on with it.
There are several things that drift in the realms of my mind this evening not the least of which is our curiously plummeting if ever turbulent economy that seems perpetually stuck in a nose dive and shows very little signs of returning to any form of "normal". Nor escapes my attention the direct and most profound effect these slow times are having not only on our day to day lives but the world of Aviation in general.
I sit in the Line Shack at LAL tonight surrounded by the deafening of silence that has enveloped this airfield so completely that the rare occasion that an aircraft propelled by anything other than a jet engine (which is becoming just as rare) flies overhead, that beautiful purr of piston engine isn't heralded by all as the returning days of glory that saw hundreds of passing props a day, but is treated instead almost as a nuisance, just another flight student to be tolerated, in and out, possibly lost and very little fuel needed.
Gone are the days of a full ramp buzzing and teaming with metallic and canvas Avian life, each crafted machine yearning for the air of the sky rather than the black of the asphalt. Gone are the days of full house at airport restaurants. Gone are the days of Airport Restaurants! No more do I see a full traffic pattern with pilots stacked two to three deep searching for the perfect hundred dollar burger. Between ownership cost, rental costs, fuel costs, and creepily invading ramp fees, the taste for slipping the surly bonds has vanished from the fine glow and sweet tones of freedom and accomplishment and instead has been deviously replaced by the bitter aftertaste of outrageous fuel costs and lack of reason to arrive. Why spend the time effort and exuberant amount of money to fly to a place that offers nothing but a thieves grasp of your wallet complete with a side of hunger unvanquished?
Flying, in all of its glory and love, when broken down is, at its core, a luxury. And as is the case with any given luxury, subject to severance or neglect when other more pressing issues such as House, Home, Family, Mortgage, the ability to eat, come in first. The majority of GA is for pleasure and is in fact the very reason that most pilots even learn in the first place as flying stimulates emotions and thoughts that most people will never be able to experience in their lives. Addicting as it is however, more pressing issues as mentioned, become much more relevant when bills can't be paid, obligations can not be met and as in the case of may many Americans, mortgages become impossible. This is where we have evidently found our precipice and have teetered ever so dangerously on the edge of for far to long. The credit crunch has finally caught up and firmly bit us all on the ass.
Watching the stock markets tumble the last several days and the air traffic continue to grow markedly thinner, no more apparent are these two correlated as is evident on the very ground that is so important to aircraft, the unsung hero that is the Airport. Where in the past airports across the country have been threatened by community encroachment, re-purposing of land, complaints from existing neighborhoods and the characteristic distrust that the general public has for small aircraft, now I fear that no longer are these threats the most damaging and significant to local fields but instead the realization that an even larger and uglier problem may be looming on the horizon should the economy fail to resurrect itself, the issue of neglect.
As it stands, the FBO I work for is currently one of two business entities that still operate in the terminal building. The remainder is stagnantly empty and even now, shows signs of neglect creeping in. Look past the bright blue roof and white stainless walls. Look instead to the vast amount of empty space that hollows out the cavernous interior. Look at the old Day Jet post with its now abandoned computer screens and pastel blue back wall. See the empty pilot lounge. Stroll the flight line and observe the wide tie down area, barren of long term home based wings. Listen and feel the stoic silence swell with the Florida temperature yet lingers in the calm afternoons, unyielding. Ask yourself "Where is everyone?" Visit other GA airports. Ask yourself the same question.
I normally don't like writing on such a down note but lately as the world turns we all seem to be holding our breath, waiting for those we once thought voted as our representatives to lead us from such crises to actually get up and DO SOMETHING other than systematically and thoroughly covering their own asses and retreats. Even despite the attempts at"Bailing Out" the economy with a ridiculous seven hundred billion dollar gamble, selective bank rescues and a whole lot of bacon, the public still remains leery and is slowly realizing that instead of fixing the problem, those who represent us may have just created an even larger one whose effects will remain for some time and that even more infuriating, it wasn't really a bailout at all. Instead just a last ditch effort at grabbing as much as one can before the domino falls, laughing all the way to the offshore accounts and letting Joe Average take the massive burden. Generations may suffer such ill conceived trite for years to come. Where then will aviation be?
I have seen first hand the effects of Neglect on airfields both paved and grass. The end result is eerily the same, dead stale air followed by grass climbing through cracks, mother nature reclaiming that which was lent. There is light at the ends of these tunnels however, economies do spring back even during the darkest of times when the bleakest seems to the be the inevitable, industries do come back. Markets do rebuild. I have no doubt in my mind that airports will become thriving places of commerce again. Commerce simply must catch back up and provide the need that turns blade and jet fans alike. Then we shall see a more vibrant sky, and hear the purr of engines unleashed. Until then though, those stalwart sentinels whom know no other love than that of flight will still be here, waiting. Hanger bums and ramp rats alike. Ever vigilant to keep and maintain that without which would be akin to life without oxygen. Simply not possible. So carry on cronies of the political world, and keep panicking those of the financial markets. We'll be here, ready when you come back to your senses and and back to reality.
'Be waiting at the Airport.
KW
There are several things that drift in the realms of my mind this evening not the least of which is our curiously plummeting if ever turbulent economy that seems perpetually stuck in a nose dive and shows very little signs of returning to any form of "normal". Nor escapes my attention the direct and most profound effect these slow times are having not only on our day to day lives but the world of Aviation in general.
I sit in the Line Shack at LAL tonight surrounded by the deafening of silence that has enveloped this airfield so completely that the rare occasion that an aircraft propelled by anything other than a jet engine (which is becoming just as rare) flies overhead, that beautiful purr of piston engine isn't heralded by all as the returning days of glory that saw hundreds of passing props a day, but is treated instead almost as a nuisance, just another flight student to be tolerated, in and out, possibly lost and very little fuel needed.
Gone are the days of a full ramp buzzing and teaming with metallic and canvas Avian life, each crafted machine yearning for the air of the sky rather than the black of the asphalt. Gone are the days of full house at airport restaurants. Gone are the days of Airport Restaurants! No more do I see a full traffic pattern with pilots stacked two to three deep searching for the perfect hundred dollar burger. Between ownership cost, rental costs, fuel costs, and creepily invading ramp fees, the taste for slipping the surly bonds has vanished from the fine glow and sweet tones of freedom and accomplishment and instead has been deviously replaced by the bitter aftertaste of outrageous fuel costs and lack of reason to arrive. Why spend the time effort and exuberant amount of money to fly to a place that offers nothing but a thieves grasp of your wallet complete with a side of hunger unvanquished?
Flying, in all of its glory and love, when broken down is, at its core, a luxury. And as is the case with any given luxury, subject to severance or neglect when other more pressing issues such as House, Home, Family, Mortgage, the ability to eat, come in first. The majority of GA is for pleasure and is in fact the very reason that most pilots even learn in the first place as flying stimulates emotions and thoughts that most people will never be able to experience in their lives. Addicting as it is however, more pressing issues as mentioned, become much more relevant when bills can't be paid, obligations can not be met and as in the case of may many Americans, mortgages become impossible. This is where we have evidently found our precipice and have teetered ever so dangerously on the edge of for far to long. The credit crunch has finally caught up and firmly bit us all on the ass.
Watching the stock markets tumble the last several days and the air traffic continue to grow markedly thinner, no more apparent are these two correlated as is evident on the very ground that is so important to aircraft, the unsung hero that is the Airport. Where in the past airports across the country have been threatened by community encroachment, re-purposing of land, complaints from existing neighborhoods and the characteristic distrust that the general public has for small aircraft, now I fear that no longer are these threats the most damaging and significant to local fields but instead the realization that an even larger and uglier problem may be looming on the horizon should the economy fail to resurrect itself, the issue of neglect.
As it stands, the FBO I work for is currently one of two business entities that still operate in the terminal building. The remainder is stagnantly empty and even now, shows signs of neglect creeping in. Look past the bright blue roof and white stainless walls. Look instead to the vast amount of empty space that hollows out the cavernous interior. Look at the old Day Jet post with its now abandoned computer screens and pastel blue back wall. See the empty pilot lounge. Stroll the flight line and observe the wide tie down area, barren of long term home based wings. Listen and feel the stoic silence swell with the Florida temperature yet lingers in the calm afternoons, unyielding. Ask yourself "Where is everyone?" Visit other GA airports. Ask yourself the same question.
I normally don't like writing on such a down note but lately as the world turns we all seem to be holding our breath, waiting for those we once thought voted as our representatives to lead us from such crises to actually get up and DO SOMETHING other than systematically and thoroughly covering their own asses and retreats. Even despite the attempts at"Bailing Out" the economy with a ridiculous seven hundred billion dollar gamble, selective bank rescues and a whole lot of bacon, the public still remains leery and is slowly realizing that instead of fixing the problem, those who represent us may have just created an even larger one whose effects will remain for some time and that even more infuriating, it wasn't really a bailout at all. Instead just a last ditch effort at grabbing as much as one can before the domino falls, laughing all the way to the offshore accounts and letting Joe Average take the massive burden. Generations may suffer such ill conceived trite for years to come. Where then will aviation be?
I have seen first hand the effects of Neglect on airfields both paved and grass. The end result is eerily the same, dead stale air followed by grass climbing through cracks, mother nature reclaiming that which was lent. There is light at the ends of these tunnels however, economies do spring back even during the darkest of times when the bleakest seems to the be the inevitable, industries do come back. Markets do rebuild. I have no doubt in my mind that airports will become thriving places of commerce again. Commerce simply must catch back up and provide the need that turns blade and jet fans alike. Then we shall see a more vibrant sky, and hear the purr of engines unleashed. Until then though, those stalwart sentinels whom know no other love than that of flight will still be here, waiting. Hanger bums and ramp rats alike. Ever vigilant to keep and maintain that without which would be akin to life without oxygen. Simply not possible. So carry on cronies of the political world, and keep panicking those of the financial markets. We'll be here, ready when you come back to your senses and and back to reality.
'Be waiting at the Airport.
KW
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