Well, the "Ides of March" have passed us by. Spring has helped me by increasing my energy level. Today is Saturday and the work party at Horn Point (to which I might have taken the Luscombe), has been cancelled due to rain. It's not raining here yet. I just went out and moved the VW bug out of it's rickity old garage into the hangar. I didn't want to do that in the rain. I have something I am going to do on the VW.
As you know, I don't do mechanic type work. I am going to put on my vintage tags. License plates. Maryland is one of a very few states where you can run vintage tags. Of course you have to comply with a wee bit of red tape and pay a $25 one time charge. Over the Internet I bought a set of 1970 plates for the 1970 VW. Then I had to go to MVA/DMV and comply with the red tape. Now I just have to install the plates. I also have to carry the "real" tags with me in the car. The car is blue with white seats. The tag is white with blue lettering. I think it will look pretty sweet, but the tags are a bit yellowed because they are 43 years old. So that's the geezer plan for today. Exciting aye?
It's interesting. Airplanes age differently from cars. A 1970 car is a classic and we like to see them on the road or at the Dairy Queen. Chevelles and Mustangs etc. They are old cars. But I have 2 airplanes: one a 1946 and one a 1969.
Nobody in aviation or in the work-a-day world really thinks about those planes as being "old planes". They are my planes that I use to go flying for fun or to get somewhere. The fact that the Luscombe is 66 years old rarely comes up. If I give a "civilian" a ride in the Luscombe, it's an airplane ride. Not "OMG look at that relic!"
Let me go a step further. I flew my last DC-9 trip in Nov. of 2004. The passengers and crew were riding in an airliner that was well over 30 years old. With a major airline. In Maryland a car is officially "historic" if it is at least 20 years old! The passengers were just going A to B and wanting to be on time. Nobody thought "hey I'm riding in an historic airplane".
By the way, my last leg as a DC-9 captain on November 9th 2004 was from Flint, Michigan to Detroit. A distance of 49 nm! The exact same distance I will fly my Luscombe one week from today when I go to the Bonanza fly-in brunch at Wildwood NJ. It starts at ten AM. Maybe I will see you there.
GAI :::::+:::::
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Luscombe out for Spring
Today is half way between the first day of Meteorological Spring and the Equinox first day of Spring. And the first day of Daylight Savings. Yesterday was beautiful and springlike. But I was in such a bad habit of not moving around. Also I had a few things to attend to. I wound up not doing much outside. But today I was ready for it. The first really nice day for a couple of months. My wife's plan was to hang out at home and do some work in the barn and play with her horse and the dogs. My plan was to roto till the garden and clean up fallen tree limbs. And see what was up with the wind damaged hangar doors. And possibly fly the Luscombe. I had done very little since November. Mostly read, watched cable, surfed Internet, ate, napped every day, hibernated. So today I was out of bed at 8:30. Early for me. Then had a pot of tea and snacks and chatted with wife till 11. Which was nice. It turned out it was actually 12 noon. I wandered out to the hangar and I knew I had a flat tire on the tiller. The valve on the wheel is on the inside and hard to get to. So I tried to put air in it and the air was just spilling. The tire was off the bead and I was out of luck I thought. But I put my glasses on and tried once again and it turned out air was spilling because there was still a dust cap on the valve. I didn't curse myself because I was so happy to have those tires inflated. My friend Dempsey the wizard had been over the week before and had pulled and cleaned the carb on the thing and done two or three other things for it. So when I pulled the rope the Honda tiller fired up on the first pull. I got the tilling done and put away and I was getting sore in the legs already. Next I started on the fallen limbs. I got the bow saw and the pickup truck. On the seat of the truck there was this little spray can of super oil. It was about $8. at the locksmith for this 3oz. can. The guy had told me not to use graphite. I sprayed it in the keyhole of both doors and the key which would barely move was now good as new. I started thinking maybe this was going to be one of those days when everything clicks. I had to cut down a few limbs and then pick up a couple hundred limbs from all around the house. That got done and my legs and back are really getting sore. My wife and I are really in the market for a treadmill. So I leave the truck loaded with limbs and brush. I can empty it later. It's time to see about that stuck hangar door. It had been jambed in 50 mph plus gusts in two different storms. I had put some big lumber against the outside of the doors to try to protect them. I am so out of shape and such a wheezing geezer that I had to take a break after wrestling those boards away. Now back and legs even more sore. I start shoving on the most stuck door and it slides normally. And so do the other three neatly into their outriggers. WTF. They apparently survived even though I saw them swinging wildly in the wind, and later were stuck resting on the ground. Perhaps they had been frozen. This is a good omen indeed. So I roll out the Luscombe. I begin a long pre flight. I add a half quart. I check the controls from both inside and out. I walk around the whole thing and get happy. Then I set the brakes and go back to the house. I get a ball cap and my wallet and some ear plugs and a bottle of water. I tell wife I am going for a ride if I can get the thing started. At least I don't have to worry about a dead battery. It has no battery. I tie the tail to the basketball pole. You might think a basketball pole and backboard don't mix with an airplane apron. But I've seen many ramps in my airline career with basketball hoops. Just like the fire department. I have a little cardboard box with foam rubber in the bottom. I put it on the right seat filled with my water bottle, GPS, a half sectional folded up, a roll of masking tape, glasses, etc. I dip a wooden dowel into the gas tank. I triple check the vent to the tank. I turn on the fuel. I give three shots of prime. I leave the switch off. I pull the throttle back to the stop. I pull the prop through about three times. I prime one more time and turn the mags on. Now I see prime fuel dripping. I swing the prop and she fires and runs and quits. Ran on the prime? I pull it two more times, no go. Third pull it starts and runs ticking over at about 600 rpm. I walk around to the tail and pull the chock and untie it. Climb in (which isn't easy). Taxi out with an east wind which is rare. Take my time warming up. Haven't flown in two months. The field isn't as soggy as I expected. For a tail dragger it's fine. As I make my take off roll I have the stick hard back and accelerate quickly. The 65 hp feels as sprightly as the 150 hp on the Cherokee does. Or more so. I don't shove the stick forward to rake her or step her. I just raise the tail off the ground and leave some angle of attack and we are flying. It's fun already. There are trees at the end when going this way so I gently turn right toward another farm in case the little Continental decides not to want to wake up for Spring. I find myself heading south and east toward Hurlock and Sharpstown on the river. I had planned on shooting a few landings but I just kept on going and up to 3500 feet. I went to Art's place about 25 NM away. I didn't land there because you never know after the rains. But I know Art's place is much better drained than mine. It was hazy and getting dark toward the beach and all of a sudden I figured I'd better B line it for home. I had waited too long and gone too far. I had enough light to get home, but I had no time to dilly dally or strafe for deer on the runway. Parked back on the basketball court. Set the brakes. I'll chock her later. I came in to check the weather. It sure got cold again when the sun went down. Weather good enough to leave her out and the hangar doors open and maybe fly again tomorrow. Everything did indeed click. So I decided to write to you my friends. Happy Daylight Savings!
GAInformal :::::+:::::
GAInformal :::::+:::::
Saturday, December 8, 2012
fri sat sun mon
I got the Luscombe to a few more nearby fly-ins before the season ended. There was Greenwood in October and a Horn Point work party in November which I indeed flew into. And a flight up to Cheswald later in November, to say goodbye to a classic airplane which was leaving my sociogram, but never my heart. Then along came December 1st and 2nd. Beautiful warm days that started out foggy. Days that showed G.A. was alive even in December.
For me it started on Friday Nov. 30th. I was having one of my usual nothing days, except the weather was pristine, and warm. I had expected a visit from a friend or two who may have wanted to visit as a part of the "Holly Run" on Saturday and "Massey" on Sunday. But nobody called about that. I got a call at 4PM from my friend the Professor. He asked if I was still going to be having friends over. I said no. He said "Can I fly in anyway?" And I said absolutely but 'tis getting late. Suddenly I cared about doing something. I needed my truck to gather some firewood. I needed firewood because the Professor and I like campfires. The truck was full from another project. I hurried and emptied the truck and before I could start gathering fallen tree limbs, the 152 circled in a gorgeous sunset and I saw it land west where naked bare trees now allowed me to see the airstrip in almost winter. The light was fading and the Professor parked the Cessna and climbed in the truck and he was charged from a great flight as a cap off to a long day and long week for him. So we gathered wood as much as we could grab before dark. Then we laid a fire. Then before lighting it we ran out to dinner. (Suicide Bridge). Then a roaring fire.
Saturday morning wife had been up for hours before I rose. The Prof. still sleeping in. I made some breakfast and I opened the hangar doors and rolled out the Luscombe. It was foggy, and calm, and fairly warm. I started gathering more wood. Soon the Prof was helping me and all of a sudden it was 3:30 and getting late again. We started the Luscombe and I taxied out to go to Cambridge for fuel. Then we got visited by a couple RV's who did beautiful fly bys..... had they been on the Holly Run? I took off and headed for CGE. The Choptank River was coated with an icing of fog. The viz was down in a weird haze. I was considering turning back on a flight that was 12 miles long. My little 65hp engine started missing and my heart jumped. I pulled on the carb heat and it got rougher still but I kept the heat on and it finally cleared up. The Prof had taken off also, but decided to just fly two circuits. I got my fuel and had help with a prop start and was on my way home. I took off and flew all the way home with the carb heat on. It was 100 percent humidity. And I landed and left the airplane outside, and far away from our fire pit. I would be using it tomorrow anyway. I had enough light to gather more wood and lay the fire. We ordered carry out food delivered so we could just hang out in the hazy, damp night by that lovely fire. We made it an early night.
Sunday morning. I had chores to do. The wx was foggy. I was moving slow. I had to go to the store to get breakfast food and my covered dish contribution to Massey. Weather permitting.
It seemed to take forever to get launched. The Prof had planned to take his 152 to Massey, but he asked if he could come with me in the little Luscombe. So we went. The wx had cleared and it was wonderful. The pattern was a bee hive, but we snuck in one hour late and the place was packed we were triple parked.
I saw many of my friends and had a great time. We watched everyone take off. Then we had to hustle to get propped (thanks Dempsey) and get going, these days are short. Then back just in time for one pass to see if we could scare away deer, foxes, skunk, seagulls, dogs. Again I parked outside and 500 feet from the fire pit. And for the third night my friend the Prof and I had a nice campfire. A very early night as he had to leave and teach in the AM and what if there was fog....
Monday morning.... for some reason I awoke at six and couldn't go back to sleep.... so I made coffee and slugged around and watched the Prof go about his Profy, Profy day. He checked wx, skyped his GF in Norway, ate breakfast, the fog slowly lifted. He launched about nine and I was on my golfcart out by the runway saying goodbye on my Icom on 122.9. He flew out of sight in the sun and the mist.
I figured I would go back to bed. But the golfcart took me along the treeline to some brush I had been clearing. I started picking up limbs and twigs. I took off my jacket. It was almost 50 degrees already in the sun. I still had on my moccasins. I put on my work gloves. Did you ever go to a fire that burned all night and try to get it going from the coals with twigs just for the hell of it?
GAI :::::+:::::
For me it started on Friday Nov. 30th. I was having one of my usual nothing days, except the weather was pristine, and warm. I had expected a visit from a friend or two who may have wanted to visit as a part of the "Holly Run" on Saturday and "Massey" on Sunday. But nobody called about that. I got a call at 4PM from my friend the Professor. He asked if I was still going to be having friends over. I said no. He said "Can I fly in anyway?" And I said absolutely but 'tis getting late. Suddenly I cared about doing something. I needed my truck to gather some firewood. I needed firewood because the Professor and I like campfires. The truck was full from another project. I hurried and emptied the truck and before I could start gathering fallen tree limbs, the 152 circled in a gorgeous sunset and I saw it land west where naked bare trees now allowed me to see the airstrip in almost winter. The light was fading and the Professor parked the Cessna and climbed in the truck and he was charged from a great flight as a cap off to a long day and long week for him. So we gathered wood as much as we could grab before dark. Then we laid a fire. Then before lighting it we ran out to dinner. (Suicide Bridge). Then a roaring fire.
Saturday morning wife had been up for hours before I rose. The Prof. still sleeping in. I made some breakfast and I opened the hangar doors and rolled out the Luscombe. It was foggy, and calm, and fairly warm. I started gathering more wood. Soon the Prof was helping me and all of a sudden it was 3:30 and getting late again. We started the Luscombe and I taxied out to go to Cambridge for fuel. Then we got visited by a couple RV's who did beautiful fly bys..... had they been on the Holly Run? I took off and headed for CGE. The Choptank River was coated with an icing of fog. The viz was down in a weird haze. I was considering turning back on a flight that was 12 miles long. My little 65hp engine started missing and my heart jumped. I pulled on the carb heat and it got rougher still but I kept the heat on and it finally cleared up. The Prof had taken off also, but decided to just fly two circuits. I got my fuel and had help with a prop start and was on my way home. I took off and flew all the way home with the carb heat on. It was 100 percent humidity. And I landed and left the airplane outside, and far away from our fire pit. I would be using it tomorrow anyway. I had enough light to gather more wood and lay the fire. We ordered carry out food delivered so we could just hang out in the hazy, damp night by that lovely fire. We made it an early night.
Sunday morning. I had chores to do. The wx was foggy. I was moving slow. I had to go to the store to get breakfast food and my covered dish contribution to Massey. Weather permitting.
It seemed to take forever to get launched. The Prof had planned to take his 152 to Massey, but he asked if he could come with me in the little Luscombe. So we went. The wx had cleared and it was wonderful. The pattern was a bee hive, but we snuck in one hour late and the place was packed we were triple parked.
I saw many of my friends and had a great time. We watched everyone take off. Then we had to hustle to get propped (thanks Dempsey) and get going, these days are short. Then back just in time for one pass to see if we could scare away deer, foxes, skunk, seagulls, dogs. Again I parked outside and 500 feet from the fire pit. And for the third night my friend the Prof and I had a nice campfire. A very early night as he had to leave and teach in the AM and what if there was fog....
Monday morning.... for some reason I awoke at six and couldn't go back to sleep.... so I made coffee and slugged around and watched the Prof go about his Profy, Profy day. He checked wx, skyped his GF in Norway, ate breakfast, the fog slowly lifted. He launched about nine and I was on my golfcart out by the runway saying goodbye on my Icom on 122.9. He flew out of sight in the sun and the mist.
I figured I would go back to bed. But the golfcart took me along the treeline to some brush I had been clearing. I started picking up limbs and twigs. I took off my jacket. It was almost 50 degrees already in the sun. I still had on my moccasins. I put on my work gloves. Did you ever go to a fire that burned all night and try to get it going from the coals with twigs just for the hell of it?
GAI :::::+:::::
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Ya Can't Do It All
This summer really got screwed up as far as fly-ins go. First of all, I cancelled my own fly-in due to events beyond my control. That knocked the wind out of my sails in many more ways than one. We also had a drought and heat wave. And I had family obligations. The Luscombe was supposed to go somewhere every single weekend but it did not. I did get to Greenwood twice. And got up to Sentimental Journey in the CherOHkee for a day trip. And to Horn Point and to Kentmoor in the Luscombe. And just last Saturday, Spring Hill. Which was lovely, but weather threatened away many planes from there and from the Wings and Wheels at Cambridge. The Luscombe and I snuck in and it was great. The food. The folks. Antique tractors. A live music trio. The incredible 310 prize winning Songbird. Thank you JB for your kind and talented hospitality.
Now this Saturday is three days away. I am going to Essex Skypark. It is a wonderful Big/Little Wings and Wheels. It's the best. And I had to choose. Because the same day, this Saturday has: (1.) Bethal ,Pa. which is a wonderful old timey show and fly-in. (2.) Ocean City, Nj. Air Fest. (3.) Wellsville, Pa. the big Aeronca fly-in, and (4) Martinsburg, Wv. the Air Show. I guess one just can't do it all. And Friday night, before this big Saturday, I'm taking my VW to Denton. A town near me. For another small town "cars in the park". If that's not enough, on Saturday night after Essex, I'm driving 2.5 hours to a venue on the Western Shore to see a wonderful retro rock folk country band where people are. Who know me, and some even maybe like me. I don't know if I will have the stamina to do Saturday. But at least I'll do the flying first when I am fresh. And awake.
All of this after spending six weeks of the "dog daze" doing absolutely nothing. Except maybe feeling sorry for myself. And throwing a few friends off the bus because they exhibit the same human frailties that I do.
Somehow I didn't have strength for them. And for myself. In all of that I remained thankful. Grateful. For my troubles are nothing. Lots of folks would love to have my "troubles".
When it cooled off I started eating better and moving around. That gave me the energy to care. I'm going to sell or give away a few projects. I'm going to clean up the hangar. Have a few campfires. And a big bonfire.
Look for me this fall. I'll be in jeans that are coated with grass clippings. I'll be in a black Luscombe, or a blue Beetle. And I don't know this for sure, but I expect I'll be smiling.
GAI :::::+:::::
Now this Saturday is three days away. I am going to Essex Skypark. It is a wonderful Big/Little Wings and Wheels. It's the best. And I had to choose. Because the same day, this Saturday has: (1.) Bethal ,Pa. which is a wonderful old timey show and fly-in. (2.) Ocean City, Nj. Air Fest. (3.) Wellsville, Pa. the big Aeronca fly-in, and (4) Martinsburg, Wv. the Air Show. I guess one just can't do it all. And Friday night, before this big Saturday, I'm taking my VW to Denton. A town near me. For another small town "cars in the park". If that's not enough, on Saturday night after Essex, I'm driving 2.5 hours to a venue on the Western Shore to see a wonderful retro rock folk country band where people are. Who know me, and some even maybe like me. I don't know if I will have the stamina to do Saturday. But at least I'll do the flying first when I am fresh. And awake.
All of this after spending six weeks of the "dog daze" doing absolutely nothing. Except maybe feeling sorry for myself. And throwing a few friends off the bus because they exhibit the same human frailties that I do.
Somehow I didn't have strength for them. And for myself. In all of that I remained thankful. Grateful. For my troubles are nothing. Lots of folks would love to have my "troubles".
When it cooled off I started eating better and moving around. That gave me the energy to care. I'm going to sell or give away a few projects. I'm going to clean up the hangar. Have a few campfires. And a big bonfire.
Look for me this fall. I'll be in jeans that are coated with grass clippings. I'll be in a black Luscombe, or a blue Beetle. And I don't know this for sure, but I expect I'll be smiling.
GAI :::::+:::::
Saturday, June 30, 2012
It's a Tough Call
I think I want to make a point about health care. Maybe not a point. Maybe just a hypothetical question. Perhaps not about health care , but the more general question of a society taking care of it's own. Or man's humanity to man. Or inhumanity. Bear with me, it may be a while before I get to the point. "Really Lloyd?" "What a surprise".
I have been getting some annoying calls on my cell phone. From numbers unrecognized by my contact list. You all know exactly what I mean. Of course I do not answer calls from unexpected numbers. If you answer and it is a nasty, toxic, telemarketing scheme, it can lead to more annoying calls. Or something even worse. It could be that you will find yourself the victim of a clever criminal computer scheme that winds up charging calls to your phone and the calls show up on your providers bill and the money gets routed from your provider to the criminal hacker. And it can lead to idenity theft. Because the more you fight it, the more the criminal finds out about you.
So what happens is: I don't answer these unidentified calls. Sometimes it is a legitimate call and a voice message is left for me. Fine and good. I simply label a new contact.
But if no voice message is left, and the call is repeated: of course I still never answer. But I type the number into Google. I almost always find out enough info on the number to know it is toxic. For free. Then I label that number in my contacts with the name "do not answer". The calls keep coming maybe once or twice a day, but it doesn't frustrate me quite as much because I know what it is. Immediately. And I feel as if I have some control. After a few days, or weeks, that number will give up and try someone else. It's still a pain, but not that bad. Then another toxic number will start calling and the process starts over. When I have two toxic numbers calling during the same week, that is indeed unfortunate.
I am no closer to getting to my point about health care and humanity. But let me forge on.
Lately I have been getting an even nastier type of calls. The sender has to be a devious, sadistic, son of a witch. The calls come up without a number and have the word "unavailable". I don't answer and there is no voice message left. What possible reason could the sender have except viral harrassment? Is this a young hacker who has outgrown ripping the wings off flies? So today I called my cell phone provider. I won't mention their name, but their initials are Verizon Wireless. The technology in the way they fielded my call was pretty amazing. I was put on hold after a long and arduous voice response conversation with a computer. The "on hold" part was a series of short and not so short infomercials. This went on and on. New phones. Minutes deals. Upgrades. Features. Sales. I pads. Smart phones. Video tablets. I listened to a hundred of these and they never started to repeat. I put the phone on speaker and moved it away from me far enough to stop the torture, but close enough to hear in the remote case that a human would come on the line. Finally someone did and they didn't sound like they were in India. The young lady was very nice and listened patiently for my geezer rant about the harrassing "unavailable" calls. One possible solution, she said, was changing my phone number. They would do this for free. How nice. I didn't do that because: 1. nobody would have my number 2. the bad guys could start doing the same thing to my new number! Next was "Call User Contol". With this system the phone rejects any call that is not 10 digets. So the word "Unavailable" trying to come in would be a rejection that the receiver never knows about. This costs five dollars a month. And does nothing to help about those telemarketing calls which do show a phone number, toxic as they are. I tell her to sign me up. She tells me according to her records I am due for an upgrade and she gives me a pitch I think she is reading from a script. I tell her no thanks. Even though my phone charges up and discharges way too fast: meaning battery is dying. And now and again when I hit the 5 key it feels too stiff and puts up 3 numbers on the screen in a blink. That malfunction would be a deal breaker, but the problem goes away after I fret for eight minutes.
Again, I'm no closer to the point about health care. I better get to the point or I will forget what it is.
I started thinking about my nice new Verizon service which fights off one kind of phone virus. I told my wife about it and I heard myself say something like "you know it really isn't fair that I have to pay 5 bucks a month because my phone has a germ attack and Joe Blow my neighbor has been lucky about computer calls and he doesn't have to pay 5 bucks a month." Then I stopped talking and started thinking. I would not wish these toxic calls on Joe Blow or anyone. But Joe Blow might start getting them tomorrow. I think if Verizon can stop it for me, they should stop it for everyone as part of their service.
Bing. My point. Maybe if every Verizon customer paid a penny a month we could all have the insurance against this type of call. It just comes with the phone. It's part of the phone like having a ringer. You have to have it. You can't opt out and not pay the penny a month. Everyone wants it and they don't want to even have to think about it. It's a no brainer. Once it's in the system it probably won't cost Verizon a thing. It will be a done deal. It will have the power of every single customer quietly enjoying the protection of the service.
My point Part 2. I was unlucky about getting toxic calls. Joe Blow was lucky. I've been lucky to be somewhat healthy all my life along with my wife and son. Some problems of course. I don't want to be without health coverage. There's more. I don't want any family in my country (or on the planet) to not have health care available to them. I don't want any child to not be insurable. Or have any family become bankrupt due to health expences. ANY FAMILY. ANYONE. Rich or poor. Paid up premeums or not. Black or White. Gay or not. Christian or not. Pre existing condition or not.
I'm not making a pitch for Obama care. I don't care what politician gets credit for it. This is a simple thing. First we make sure no one goes hungry in the United States. Then we make sure everyone gets the medical care and treatment they need. Period. This takes priority over having wars against countries we don't like. And wars to protect oil we think we need so some of us can get richer. I don't know a damn thing about Obama care. And I know you don't know much about it either. I don't care if they keep Obamacare or get rid of it. The Genie is out of the bottle now. If Romney wins, he won't be able to just say that our new health care system, under him, will be no Obama care. The lack of something is not something.
Yesterday my brother told me he is glad the Supreme Court upheld the Constitutionality of Obama care. He said he likes the provision that no lawyer can ever, under the system, deny someone a treatment because the lawyer has an expert witness that can say the treatment might not work, the patient might die anyway, etc. And no insurance company can put a top on the expenses that have been spent on a patient, so they get no more treatment under insurance because of the top out.
Again, I'm not selling Obama care or Obama. I don't like that Obama rammed this program thru congress in the middle of the night. But myself. I'm glad the Supreme Court upheld it too. My son is turning 24. So now we have two more years of him on our insurance. If the vote went the other way, he's on his own.
I know lots of people that really hate Obama. Hey, politics is politics. Just like religion. I'll say it again. I want EVERYONE in our country to have health insurance. And I want EVERYONE to chip in and pay for it. Whether they need it or want it or not. Just like highways and schools. It's more important than highways and schools.
46% of us like Obama. 46% of us hate his guts. So come November the 8% will decide. And Obama and Romney and every Senator and Congressman and Governor and Commisioner and Alderman and Sheriff and Dog Catcher will be kissing the behind of that 8% and promising the moon and their first born child to that 8% and spending more money than has ever been spent on an election in the history of the world on courting that 8%. It won't matter who wins. Again the Genie is out of the bottle. The system has been about money for a long time. But now the system is about and controlled by money. It won't matter who wins. The rot is too far gone. It won't matter who wins. We will still have to have a universal health care system. We already have it. We never called it universal. After all we're not socialists! But the Supreme Court has decided it's OK to have a universal system within our Democratic Republic.
I have to admit, this election is entertaining. Our country is literally "on hold". I do miss the reality show comedy of the Republican Primary. Sarah for President!
I contacted my congressman, Andrew P. Harris.
I got a message back. "Unavailable"
LLITTY ::::+::::
I have been getting some annoying calls on my cell phone. From numbers unrecognized by my contact list. You all know exactly what I mean. Of course I do not answer calls from unexpected numbers. If you answer and it is a nasty, toxic, telemarketing scheme, it can lead to more annoying calls. Or something even worse. It could be that you will find yourself the victim of a clever criminal computer scheme that winds up charging calls to your phone and the calls show up on your providers bill and the money gets routed from your provider to the criminal hacker. And it can lead to idenity theft. Because the more you fight it, the more the criminal finds out about you.
So what happens is: I don't answer these unidentified calls. Sometimes it is a legitimate call and a voice message is left for me. Fine and good. I simply label a new contact.
But if no voice message is left, and the call is repeated: of course I still never answer. But I type the number into Google. I almost always find out enough info on the number to know it is toxic. For free. Then I label that number in my contacts with the name "do not answer". The calls keep coming maybe once or twice a day, but it doesn't frustrate me quite as much because I know what it is. Immediately. And I feel as if I have some control. After a few days, or weeks, that number will give up and try someone else. It's still a pain, but not that bad. Then another toxic number will start calling and the process starts over. When I have two toxic numbers calling during the same week, that is indeed unfortunate.
I am no closer to getting to my point about health care and humanity. But let me forge on.
Lately I have been getting an even nastier type of calls. The sender has to be a devious, sadistic, son of a witch. The calls come up without a number and have the word "unavailable". I don't answer and there is no voice message left. What possible reason could the sender have except viral harrassment? Is this a young hacker who has outgrown ripping the wings off flies? So today I called my cell phone provider. I won't mention their name, but their initials are Verizon Wireless. The technology in the way they fielded my call was pretty amazing. I was put on hold after a long and arduous voice response conversation with a computer. The "on hold" part was a series of short and not so short infomercials. This went on and on. New phones. Minutes deals. Upgrades. Features. Sales. I pads. Smart phones. Video tablets. I listened to a hundred of these and they never started to repeat. I put the phone on speaker and moved it away from me far enough to stop the torture, but close enough to hear in the remote case that a human would come on the line. Finally someone did and they didn't sound like they were in India. The young lady was very nice and listened patiently for my geezer rant about the harrassing "unavailable" calls. One possible solution, she said, was changing my phone number. They would do this for free. How nice. I didn't do that because: 1. nobody would have my number 2. the bad guys could start doing the same thing to my new number! Next was "Call User Contol". With this system the phone rejects any call that is not 10 digets. So the word "Unavailable" trying to come in would be a rejection that the receiver never knows about. This costs five dollars a month. And does nothing to help about those telemarketing calls which do show a phone number, toxic as they are. I tell her to sign me up. She tells me according to her records I am due for an upgrade and she gives me a pitch I think she is reading from a script. I tell her no thanks. Even though my phone charges up and discharges way too fast: meaning battery is dying. And now and again when I hit the 5 key it feels too stiff and puts up 3 numbers on the screen in a blink. That malfunction would be a deal breaker, but the problem goes away after I fret for eight minutes.
Again, I'm no closer to the point about health care. I better get to the point or I will forget what it is.
I started thinking about my nice new Verizon service which fights off one kind of phone virus. I told my wife about it and I heard myself say something like "you know it really isn't fair that I have to pay 5 bucks a month because my phone has a germ attack and Joe Blow my neighbor has been lucky about computer calls and he doesn't have to pay 5 bucks a month." Then I stopped talking and started thinking. I would not wish these toxic calls on Joe Blow or anyone. But Joe Blow might start getting them tomorrow. I think if Verizon can stop it for me, they should stop it for everyone as part of their service.
Bing. My point. Maybe if every Verizon customer paid a penny a month we could all have the insurance against this type of call. It just comes with the phone. It's part of the phone like having a ringer. You have to have it. You can't opt out and not pay the penny a month. Everyone wants it and they don't want to even have to think about it. It's a no brainer. Once it's in the system it probably won't cost Verizon a thing. It will be a done deal. It will have the power of every single customer quietly enjoying the protection of the service.
My point Part 2. I was unlucky about getting toxic calls. Joe Blow was lucky. I've been lucky to be somewhat healthy all my life along with my wife and son. Some problems of course. I don't want to be without health coverage. There's more. I don't want any family in my country (or on the planet) to not have health care available to them. I don't want any child to not be insurable. Or have any family become bankrupt due to health expences. ANY FAMILY. ANYONE. Rich or poor. Paid up premeums or not. Black or White. Gay or not. Christian or not. Pre existing condition or not.
I'm not making a pitch for Obama care. I don't care what politician gets credit for it. This is a simple thing. First we make sure no one goes hungry in the United States. Then we make sure everyone gets the medical care and treatment they need. Period. This takes priority over having wars against countries we don't like. And wars to protect oil we think we need so some of us can get richer. I don't know a damn thing about Obama care. And I know you don't know much about it either. I don't care if they keep Obamacare or get rid of it. The Genie is out of the bottle now. If Romney wins, he won't be able to just say that our new health care system, under him, will be no Obama care. The lack of something is not something.
Yesterday my brother told me he is glad the Supreme Court upheld the Constitutionality of Obama care. He said he likes the provision that no lawyer can ever, under the system, deny someone a treatment because the lawyer has an expert witness that can say the treatment might not work, the patient might die anyway, etc. And no insurance company can put a top on the expenses that have been spent on a patient, so they get no more treatment under insurance because of the top out.
Again, I'm not selling Obama care or Obama. I don't like that Obama rammed this program thru congress in the middle of the night. But myself. I'm glad the Supreme Court upheld it too. My son is turning 24. So now we have two more years of him on our insurance. If the vote went the other way, he's on his own.
I know lots of people that really hate Obama. Hey, politics is politics. Just like religion. I'll say it again. I want EVERYONE in our country to have health insurance. And I want EVERYONE to chip in and pay for it. Whether they need it or want it or not. Just like highways and schools. It's more important than highways and schools.
46% of us like Obama. 46% of us hate his guts. So come November the 8% will decide. And Obama and Romney and every Senator and Congressman and Governor and Commisioner and Alderman and Sheriff and Dog Catcher will be kissing the behind of that 8% and promising the moon and their first born child to that 8% and spending more money than has ever been spent on an election in the history of the world on courting that 8%. It won't matter who wins. Again the Genie is out of the bottle. The system has been about money for a long time. But now the system is about and controlled by money. It won't matter who wins. The rot is too far gone. It won't matter who wins. We will still have to have a universal health care system. We already have it. We never called it universal. After all we're not socialists! But the Supreme Court has decided it's OK to have a universal system within our Democratic Republic.
I have to admit, this election is entertaining. Our country is literally "on hold". I do miss the reality show comedy of the Republican Primary. Sarah for President!
I contacted my congressman, Andrew P. Harris.
I got a message back. "Unavailable"
LLITTY ::::+::::
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Luscombe Part 2
Today promised to be fair weather, and cooler. Just eighty degrees and white puffy clouds. At 8 AM I smelled the decaf brewing and looked out my bathroom window. Weather as predicted. I was supposed to be hustling to get the Luscombe rolled and pre flighted, then take a shower and go. But I found myself having a few cups of that decaf and sitting and chatting with wife. We talked about my interesting friends and her interesting family. And we talked about the heat wave and today's sea change which gave us puffy clouds and 78 degrees. I got the plane ready first. Then took the shower.
The Luscombe is harder to ramp up and launch than the CherOHkee. The Luscombe is easier to ramp up and launch than the CherOHkee. I guess I could write a post about what that means.
That reminds me of one of my first blog posts. When I asked the question "what airplane is the easiest to fly?" Answer: The airplane you fly every day.
The fly-in I was headed for this morning was only maybe 28 nm away. Over by Salisbury. As I taxied out I looked at some new turf I had seeded. I knew I had planted it too late in the season. I looked at the ten acres of melons my farmer had put in. And all of the irrigation equipment involved. And my runway was tan, brown and red instead of green. The heat wave had scorched it. And I thought of the fly-ins I had been to recently. Horn Point. Kentmorr. Sugar Hill and now Art's. All within 30 nm. of my place. I had the brief thought that I could go to a car show or fly-in every single weekend from now through September if I wanted to. I even know a few dates in October. Hey, I said. I'm taxiing the Luscombe and not thinking about it. That's good. I must be getting comfortable in the airplane. But taxiing is what we called in the airlines a "Sterile" activity. No talking. What about talking to myself?.. Pay attention Lloyd. There's always something you need to be doing in an airplane. Where's the wind. Will there be deer or foxes on the runway. Engine instruments. Nice to be getting comfortable finally in this little taildragger. I just have to be careful because I'm naturally lazy.
I chugged along at 2500 feet. I had my window open and my elbow outside as in a car. I was neither hot nor cold. The viz was sweet after our huge entire east coast cold front. No GPS, VOR, or radar vectors. I am lost on a 28 mile trip. But how can I be lost. There's Vienna. I know it well. Oh and there's Sharptown. Hey I've gotta stay away from Laurel Deleware. They skydive there. And I can't get near Salisbury. A Control Tower. In a cardboard box on the empty right seat there is my Garman 196 portable GPS. And an ICOM portable tranceiver. I just don't feel like turning them on. There's highway 13. The road that bisects the Delmarva Peninsula. And there is Delmar. A town half in Deleware and half in Maryland. I'll follow that road east out of Delmar toward the beach. Yes, there is the Ocean City skyline. But where the heck is Art's? I'm lost. I can't be lost because there is the town of Pittsville. I look straight down. There is the Fly-in. "Airstreams and Airplanes". I see the gaggle of big, shiny trailers. I circle in a dreamy, I'm not ready to land yet, way. I'm the first plane there. I get parked and I watch the next two airplanes land. My friend Dempsey greets me and I ask if there is coffee. He says no but he can get some. I asked what he meant by that. He pointed at the dozen or so beautiful Airstreams and said: "There's thirteen kitchens".
Gen. Av. Informal ::::+::::
The Luscombe is harder to ramp up and launch than the CherOHkee. The Luscombe is easier to ramp up and launch than the CherOHkee. I guess I could write a post about what that means.
That reminds me of one of my first blog posts. When I asked the question "what airplane is the easiest to fly?" Answer: The airplane you fly every day.
The fly-in I was headed for this morning was only maybe 28 nm away. Over by Salisbury. As I taxied out I looked at some new turf I had seeded. I knew I had planted it too late in the season. I looked at the ten acres of melons my farmer had put in. And all of the irrigation equipment involved. And my runway was tan, brown and red instead of green. The heat wave had scorched it. And I thought of the fly-ins I had been to recently. Horn Point. Kentmorr. Sugar Hill and now Art's. All within 30 nm. of my place. I had the brief thought that I could go to a car show or fly-in every single weekend from now through September if I wanted to. I even know a few dates in October. Hey, I said. I'm taxiing the Luscombe and not thinking about it. That's good. I must be getting comfortable in the airplane. But taxiing is what we called in the airlines a "Sterile" activity. No talking. What about talking to myself?.. Pay attention Lloyd. There's always something you need to be doing in an airplane. Where's the wind. Will there be deer or foxes on the runway. Engine instruments. Nice to be getting comfortable finally in this little taildragger. I just have to be careful because I'm naturally lazy.
I chugged along at 2500 feet. I had my window open and my elbow outside as in a car. I was neither hot nor cold. The viz was sweet after our huge entire east coast cold front. No GPS, VOR, or radar vectors. I am lost on a 28 mile trip. But how can I be lost. There's Vienna. I know it well. Oh and there's Sharptown. Hey I've gotta stay away from Laurel Deleware. They skydive there. And I can't get near Salisbury. A Control Tower. In a cardboard box on the empty right seat there is my Garman 196 portable GPS. And an ICOM portable tranceiver. I just don't feel like turning them on. There's highway 13. The road that bisects the Delmarva Peninsula. And there is Delmar. A town half in Deleware and half in Maryland. I'll follow that road east out of Delmar toward the beach. Yes, there is the Ocean City skyline. But where the heck is Art's? I'm lost. I can't be lost because there is the town of Pittsville. I look straight down. There is the Fly-in. "Airstreams and Airplanes". I see the gaggle of big, shiny trailers. I circle in a dreamy, I'm not ready to land yet, way. I'm the first plane there. I get parked and I watch the next two airplanes land. My friend Dempsey greets me and I ask if there is coffee. He says no but he can get some. I asked what he meant by that. He pointed at the dozen or so beautiful Airstreams and said: "There's thirteen kitchens".
Gen. Av. Informal ::::+::::
Monday, May 28, 2012
The Luscombe
Just like the term "full circle" suggests. Here I am in the learning curve of relearning how to fly a taildragger. 44 years ago I first soloed a taildragger. It wasn't my "first solo". That was in a PA-28 nose wheel. So my first taildragger solo was a "checkout". Like one would get today. Except today one gets a taildragger endorsement in one's logbook to satisfy a regulation. Back when I first soloed that Champ when I was 18 yrs old, of course there was no endorsement required. In fact the taildragger was called a "conventional" gear airplane. Nose wheel was unconventional. I flew some other taildraggers way back then. When I was maybe twenty and in college at "Maryland". I checked out in a yellow Piper J-3. We all know that airplane. When I was a kid the words "Piper Cub" meant any small airplane. The guy who checked me out was Jeff Brinkerhoff. His dad George was a renowned pilot and barnstormer. I still remember that checkout. It was a balmy Spring day and we were bounced around and it seemed more kite-like than even the Champ. After a little airwork and 4 or 5 landings we were back on the ground. I knew I was rougher in this thing. You had to fly from the back seat, I didn't quite have the feel yet. But I was very happy when Brinkerhoff said he would like me to come back tomorrow and he would fly one pattern with me and if I was ok like my last landing today I would be signed off for solo in the cub at College Park. I came back the next day and flew with him again and he went around with me just like he said and got out and I took the plane for the rest of the hour and shot landings and tooled over the family house in Lanham. Little did I know, a few years later I would become an instructor at College Park and log 400 hours riding in the front seat of Brinkerhoff's J-3's teaching primary students how to fly. It was a huge honor to know and be friends with Brinkerhoff.
After that, I wasn't quite done with taildraggers. When I was about 25 I was working at Cumberland Airlines. I got my foot in the door there because they needed a primary instructor. Later, I got a job flying the US Mail for them. During that period I bought my first airplane. A Citabria. A 7-ECA. It was like the Champ I had flown. It was, in fact, the same airframe as the old Champ. But all dolled up by a new company called "Champion", then "American Champion". But my Citabria wasn't new. It was a bit worn. But to me it was wonderful and I could write a hundred blog posts of adventures and flights of fancy in the little 7ECA.
During one winter I guess it was 76/77 I wound up in Pittsburgh flying Air Mail and Emory Airfreight. It's too long a story to begin to tell here. What a winter. It became a huge stepping stone an my aviation career. I got 175 hours in a Beech 18T. This was a Hamilton conversion. twin beach with PT-6 turbines. Although it did not require a type rating, it was run by a two pilot crew and that was required by the contracts for mail and freight. (And you needed two guys to load the freight!) This was my first "Captain" job. This Beech was a taildragger. It was nicknamed a "Kerosene 18".
Ok. Just one more taildragger from the past. When I was 27 and 28 yrs. old I found myself flying DC-3's. I got about 400 hrs. SIC time. (Not sick time. I learned all about that at the Major Airlines) SIC second in command. Co-Pilot. Being a DC-3 copilot is an interesting job and you are too busy working to learn to be the Captain. But that's another story. I guess I got maybe 6 or 7 hundred hrs. Captain. So add in another 1100 hrs. tailwheel to my logbook.
So here I am today 30 years later I wanted to go light sport. Cheaper, no medical, simpler, back to the fun. So sell the Cher OH Key right? No I'm not ready to do that. But I wanted a light sport airplane. The hardest thing about getting what you want is figuring out what you want. I decided it had to be a 7AC Champ. It couldn't be a 7ECA, my favorite. Because it is too heavy to be a light sport. Oddly, like I said above, it is really the same airplane. I couldn't find a 7AC. They all need engine overhauls and recovering. Or they are all done like new and dolled up. Then they start at $47K if you can find one.
Usually airplanes find me. That's how I got my Citab. That's how I got my M10 Cadet. And that is how I got the Luscombe I just bought one month ago. A Lucombe for me, for my light sport plane. Luscombe was not even on my radar. I didn't think it was cool. I never paid much attention to them. I figured since I couldn't find a Champ, I'd just wind up with a J-3. They start at $40K. Anyway the Luscombe came to me from a friend who hated to get rid of it, but he had too many toys. Nice toys. Like a '56 Cessna 310 Songbird straight tail tuna tank gorgeous Oshkosh winner. So he never advertised the Luscombe. He offered it to me and I said yes. Now I own a taildragger, like my first plane. I am the "full circle pilot".
A few weeks ago another buddy who is immensely qualified gave me an hour's dual in the Luscombe. Then I started flying it solo. I'm learning to fly all over again. It has been a humbling experience. I used to be a real hotshot in taildraggers. I'll never even say that again. I could do a whole blog post about the details of the various techniques and problems that I have been working on since I started flying the Luscombe. Before I close, just let me give one example and suffice it to say I've been working at this! Every project is more difficult than you expect it to be. After getting in about 35 landings and maybe7or 8 hours in this thing, I finally got in my first "wheel landing". And I hopefully can perfect that as I go so that from now on all my crosswind landings can be wheel landings which makes it go better. Oh, and by the way I have loved every single minute of it. And the Luscombe is basically the same type of light sport classic plane as the J-3 or the Champ except it costs half as much, goes considerably faster, and is all metal.
I took it to the Horn Point fly in. And the Kentmorr fly in. And hopefully many more to come. My Cher OH kee is parked outdoors. And dirty. And not flown. And only gets attention from my nephew and his uncle. It probably thinks I don't love it anymore. But I love it very much. And I newly appreciate it's electric starter and it's nose wheel.
GAI ::::+::::
After that, I wasn't quite done with taildraggers. When I was about 25 I was working at Cumberland Airlines. I got my foot in the door there because they needed a primary instructor. Later, I got a job flying the US Mail for them. During that period I bought my first airplane. A Citabria. A 7-ECA. It was like the Champ I had flown. It was, in fact, the same airframe as the old Champ. But all dolled up by a new company called "Champion", then "American Champion". But my Citabria wasn't new. It was a bit worn. But to me it was wonderful and I could write a hundred blog posts of adventures and flights of fancy in the little 7ECA.
During one winter I guess it was 76/77 I wound up in Pittsburgh flying Air Mail and Emory Airfreight. It's too long a story to begin to tell here. What a winter. It became a huge stepping stone an my aviation career. I got 175 hours in a Beech 18T. This was a Hamilton conversion. twin beach with PT-6 turbines. Although it did not require a type rating, it was run by a two pilot crew and that was required by the contracts for mail and freight. (And you needed two guys to load the freight!) This was my first "Captain" job. This Beech was a taildragger. It was nicknamed a "Kerosene 18".
Ok. Just one more taildragger from the past. When I was 27 and 28 yrs. old I found myself flying DC-3's. I got about 400 hrs. SIC time. (Not sick time. I learned all about that at the Major Airlines) SIC second in command. Co-Pilot. Being a DC-3 copilot is an interesting job and you are too busy working to learn to be the Captain. But that's another story. I guess I got maybe 6 or 7 hundred hrs. Captain. So add in another 1100 hrs. tailwheel to my logbook.
So here I am today 30 years later I wanted to go light sport. Cheaper, no medical, simpler, back to the fun. So sell the Cher OH Key right? No I'm not ready to do that. But I wanted a light sport airplane. The hardest thing about getting what you want is figuring out what you want. I decided it had to be a 7AC Champ. It couldn't be a 7ECA, my favorite. Because it is too heavy to be a light sport. Oddly, like I said above, it is really the same airplane. I couldn't find a 7AC. They all need engine overhauls and recovering. Or they are all done like new and dolled up. Then they start at $47K if you can find one.
Usually airplanes find me. That's how I got my Citab. That's how I got my M10 Cadet. And that is how I got the Luscombe I just bought one month ago. A Lucombe for me, for my light sport plane. Luscombe was not even on my radar. I didn't think it was cool. I never paid much attention to them. I figured since I couldn't find a Champ, I'd just wind up with a J-3. They start at $40K. Anyway the Luscombe came to me from a friend who hated to get rid of it, but he had too many toys. Nice toys. Like a '56 Cessna 310 Songbird straight tail tuna tank gorgeous Oshkosh winner. So he never advertised the Luscombe. He offered it to me and I said yes. Now I own a taildragger, like my first plane. I am the "full circle pilot".
A few weeks ago another buddy who is immensely qualified gave me an hour's dual in the Luscombe. Then I started flying it solo. I'm learning to fly all over again. It has been a humbling experience. I used to be a real hotshot in taildraggers. I'll never even say that again. I could do a whole blog post about the details of the various techniques and problems that I have been working on since I started flying the Luscombe. Before I close, just let me give one example and suffice it to say I've been working at this! Every project is more difficult than you expect it to be. After getting in about 35 landings and maybe7or 8 hours in this thing, I finally got in my first "wheel landing". And I hopefully can perfect that as I go so that from now on all my crosswind landings can be wheel landings which makes it go better. Oh, and by the way I have loved every single minute of it. And the Luscombe is basically the same type of light sport classic plane as the J-3 or the Champ except it costs half as much, goes considerably faster, and is all metal.
I took it to the Horn Point fly in. And the Kentmorr fly in. And hopefully many more to come. My Cher OH kee is parked outdoors. And dirty. And not flown. And only gets attention from my nephew and his uncle. It probably thinks I don't love it anymore. But I love it very much. And I newly appreciate it's electric starter and it's nose wheel.
GAI ::::+::::
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