Monsoon Season in Viet Nam

Imagine it raining as hard as you have ever seen it rain.
Then think of rain that hard for over a month, non-stop.

I was based 40 miles South of Da Nang. I could see the highest mountains in South Viet Nam from the front door of my hooch, and the South China Sea from the back door......
Except in late January-Early February, when the rain came down in bucketloads, limiting visibility, and negating any chance to aviate.

Since we couldn't fly, I had been up the hill to visit with a flight school buddy, Deane, who was attached as an OH-6 scout/forward observer Pilot with our Division Artillery, (DivArty).

We always dreamed about what we were going to do when we made it back to "the world" at the end of our tour.
During this visit we made plans to go to the Base Exchange the next day to get information on buying a new car through the PX system, so we could have new wheels waiting on us when we returned home.

I was on "Standby" the next day. It was still raining cats and dogs, so there was little chance of flying at all, but I had to remain in the company area just in case the weather cleared and someone needed gunship support.

And then the call came in......."could we go fly?"
Absolutely not!
The ceiling was about 400 feet, and visibility was less than two miles......
Impossible weather in any case, much less near the most rugged terrain in the country!

But 30 minutes later the phone rang again........
"how 'bout now?"
Then we made the mistake of asking.........
"What's goin' on?"

"Some scout ship is down along highway one, and they want us to go have a look."

So the team got together for a conference........
"if we hover down the highway we can at least check a mile or so on either side of the road, and surely no bad guys would be out in this weather to take a shot at two
UH1-C's hovering at 100 feet, right?"

So out we went.......cranked, lifted, and started slowly down the main highway going North/South the length of the country, in weather that kept sea gulls on the ground!

Fifteen minutes into the flight we got the call from Operations: "Mission canceled, the aircraft has been found. Return to base."

Relief.
We hovered slowly back home, shut down and I made my way back to my hooch to get ready to go meet Deane to go to the PX.

On the way to operations I overheard a conversation between two pilots in front of their hooches.........and I thought I heard Deane's last name mentioned.
I stopped and asked, "What did you say?"

"******..........The guy you were searching for.......his last name was ******"
"And how is he?"
"He's dead."

It was like a sucker punch in the forehead.
"No, that's not possible.
I was just going up to meet him!"
But it was possible.

A DivArty forward observer and his radio man were stranded at Duc Pho, 40 miles South of us on Hwy 1. Deane was asked to fly down and return them to our base. He agreed to do the same thing we had decided.....follow the highway low and slow, pick them up, and return.

Deane made it to Duc Pho, and started hovering back North.
But the visibility got too bad to follow the highway. Deane had two choices.....go East to the coast and follow it North, or go West until the weather improved and then cut back East......back to the highway.

Going West also put him near the hills, and into "Charlie Country".
I don't know what his reasoning was, but he went West.

They found the aircraft upright, intact, but on fire.
All three men were out of the aircraft, stripped to the waist, in the kneeling position, shot, execution style, in the back of the head.
Deane's OH-6 had either been shot down, or forced down by weather in exactly the wrong place.

Do you ever recover from something like this?
I think of Deane and his young widow more than you can imagine.
I was 21.
He was 22 or 23.

Now there are other youngsters facing these kinds of perils.
I thank God for them and pray for them every day.
I hope you do also.

Are We Paying Attention?

There are terrible riots going on in Paris.
There are reports of similar rioting in Denmark.

Experts I am reading are frightened by these events, because,
in the case of France, they don't have the money,
or the attitude, to fix the problem.
So it may get worse......much worse.

We need to keep an eye on this situation.

If you have been ignoring the news, or if you haven't been paying attention to the Muslimization of Europe, do yourself a favor:

Go to Google.
In the search block, type: Malmo Sweden Muslims

Read the results.
Then you'll be paying closer attention.

And I'll reiterate........if you're not reading the blogs, you're not getting the real news!


Update 4Nov:
Need more proof?
http://www.news.com.au/story/0,10117,17152392-421,00.html

Hat tip.....Little Green Footballs!

Rest!

"Company, Atten............shun!

Right Face!

Forward..........March!"

We all know one of the things you learn to do in Basic Training is how to March....."Drill and Ceremonies".
At Officer Candidate School, they tortured us by making us learn FM22-5, the Army Field Manual devoted to the subject.

In FM22-5 they describe in detail how, for instance, to do "Right Face."
I was surprised at how hard it is to put the mechanics into words........trying to teach someone to do something that seems so basic is not really easy at all!.... ("From the position of Attention, quickly pivot 90 degrees simultaneously on the ball of your left foot and the heel of your right foot.....etc.")

What I really want to discuss in this post is rest.
In descending order from most restrictive to least, the person in charge can command his formation to stand at Attention, Parade Rest, At Ease, or Rest.
When given the command, "Rest", a soldier can move about pretty freely, so long as he stays close to the real estate he occupied when the command was given.

Please, someone give me the command, "Rest!"

We are all suffering from too much stress.......life has become too complicated. During the last two months of my life, obligations in my professional and personal life came together in a "Perfect Storm".

Have you ever gotten to the point where you wondered if you could maintain your sanity if just one more thing complicated your life........the "straw" that breaks the camel's back?
I was literally to the point where one day, I put a sock on inside out. The thought of taking it off, reversing it and putting it back on was a stress factor that made me sigh!
Take the time to sit down to write checks for Bills?..........okay, but give me a chance to adjust to the idea...it's more than I want to handle right now!
It's times like these that fray or destroy relationships: Marriages, partnerships, friendships.

We do this to ourselves.
I accepted a leadership position in an organization that took more of my time than I planned. Coupled with that obligation, I had my annual checkride, my annual groundschool, quarterly company computer prompted training, and my Biennial Flight Instructor renewal come due during the same month.
My sleep has been less than satisfactory, and there has been too little of it.
I look, and FEEL ten years older than the birthdate on my driver's license.

For several years now I have been trying to simplify my life. So far, I've failed.
I've taken on obligations, voluntarily and otherwise, that use up most of my waking hours, and sometimes the hours I should be at rest or recreation.
Retirement is around the corner. Is that what it will take to get me to slow down and enjoy my family and friends as I should?

Reading other blogs indicates I'm not alone.
Are we all that stupid?
It appears so.
In some cases, it's the pursuit of material things that motivates us to this self abuse, but for me, money is no longer the driving force.......why am I doing this to myself?

The times we slow down and visit with friends and loved ones are the memories we reflect on when we need a break from the treadmill.
Why don't we force ourselves to spend more time in this manner, rather than the pursuit of things that, in the end, just bring us more stress?

I think we need to seek out those we love.......those with whom we can comfortably discuss absolutely ANY subject.........the people that help you relax because with them you can truly be yourself.
Do we need to be ordered to spend a certain minimum amount of time with them daily.......weekly.......monthly?

I'm not yet "King of the World",
but I'm still askin' for your vote.
If elected, I will give the command to us all:
REST!

January 1964

You may remember I once took a crack at being an auto mechanic.
I'm glad I did.
From that experience, I have a good basic knowledge of how cars work,
and I have an idea when a mechanic
is trying to sell me "headlight oil".

My interest was sparked by Willy.
Willy was a born mechanic.
Two years my senior, he had worked at the Service Station where I worked until he graduated from High School. He then went to work as a mechanic for a trucking company.

Willy and I hung out together a lot.
We called ourselves "The Old Dads".......don't ask me why.
We both loved drag racing.
We decided we would buy an old V8 powered car,
remove and rebuild the engine, and take it racing.

After a little searching, we found a 1955 Ford 2-door sedan
within our price range.
It was rusted out and at least three colors....an ugly car,
but appearances didn't matter to us.
This would be an ongoing project.

That Fall and Winter, as our budget allowed, we took the engine apart,
had it cleaned up, and put it back together.
I say we.......but Willy directed all the work.
He knew exactly what he wanted to do.
We bored the cylinders, then picked the lightest pistons we could afford
and sent them and their matching connecting rods and fasteners to be balanced.

We wanted to race the car in it's "stock" class, so we installed a stock camshaft.
We re-jetted the carburetor and put on bigger exhaust manifolds to make the engine breathe more air.

The car had an automatic transmission.
We removed that and put a standard tranny in it's place.

By Spring, the car was back together, running like a Swiss watch.

When this car left the Ford factory in 1955
the red-line on the engine was 4,500 R.P.M..
We bought and installed a new "Sun" tachometer, and it indicated our balancing worked wonders.......
our engine would spin to 7,000 R.P.M., pulling hard all the way!

We replaced the original 15-inch tires with a huge set of 14-inchers
to lower the final gear ratio for drag racing and put as much rubber on the road as possible.

If you've seen the movie, "American Graffiti", you've gotten a sense of what life was like for kids of my generation. We had a 1/4 mile drag strip marked off on one of the country roads, and we used it frequently.

We would cruise the local drive-in restaurants to see if anyone wanted to try their luck against this old, beat up Ford.

One night, "Bob", a guy from a neighboring town driving a '59 Ford
decided he wanted a piece of The Old Dads and their patchwork Ford.
Bob's nice '59 Ford had a much larger engine in it.........352 cubic inches,
compared to our little bored-out 272.
But the '59 was a bigger, heavier car, so it wasn't too far out of our class.

Mind you, these races were for bragging rights only........no pink slips involved.
Few would have been interested in it, but no one wanted to be beaten by this ugly old junker!

At the end of the race we were a couple car lengths ahead of Bob.....
We had beaten him badly enough that he didn't return to cruise around the restaurant that evening.

I'll never forget that night, because of Bob!
Who was Bob, and why is the memory of outrunning him such a big deal all these years later?

"Bob" was Bob Glidden.
In a few years, he was seldom beaten.......
NHRA National Pro Stock Champion in 1973,
'74, '78, '79, '85, '86, '87, and '88!

But that night in the Winter of '64,
Willy's fabulous, junky old '55 Ford
and "The Old Dads"
sent Bob home licking his wounds!

Investing Inertia

In a previous post, I tried to motivate some of you to move "off the dime" and get started in an investing program.
Einstein is said to have called compound interest the "8th wonder of the world". Time is critical to successful investing.

One of my readers,

Infinitegtr

took me to task. He is an Attorney, obviously bright, and in that capacity has seen some shenanigans that scare him about allowing shysters to manipulate his money. He certainly knows more about that side of the investing equation than I do.

But my post was as simple as I could make it.......too simplistic for my virtual friend. He's right when he posts at his blog that to really be successful investing, you should first get your debts under control. If you have family, it can also be argued that you should have an adequate term life insurance policy in place before dedicating any money to an investment. (I recommend shopping online for the best deal here too. I sold insurance for a while, and may blog on this later.)

But Infgtr misses the thrust of my post. In fact, with his arguments, he makes my point. Inertia is the reason many of my contemporaries reach the point in their lives where they can see retirement around the corner, yet they cannot contemplate retiring because for one reason or another they didn't pull the trigger.

(I need to repeat the joke.......)
An old, devout Jewish man, Abe, prays to the Lord......"Lord, I have been a faithful servant. Now in my old age, please help me win the lottery."
The numbers appear, and Abe doesn't win.
The next week, he prays again, "Lord, I've been a devout Jew all my life. Let me be a lottery winner, so I can be comfortable in my last years."
And again he doesn't win.
The next week he prays again, and doesn't win.
Finally he prays, "Lord, what must I do to get your attention and move you to help me?"
And the Lord says, "Abe, you need to help me a little here. BUY A TICKET!"

My challenge to you, in essence, is to buy a ticket!

Excuses: "I have plenty of time to do that later."
"It's too complicated for me."
"There are bad people in that business that want to steal my money."
"Right now I need to buy a 3bedroom, 4bathroom house for me, my wife, and my kid."
And on, and on.

Look. My recommendation was for you to get off your butt, be an adult, do some study, and get started. I still think that's good advice.

Rehashing, if you can find a Mutual Fund with expenses less than 1% per year, that continues to earn 8% per year or more, (and I recommended one), do you care if there are expenses hidden in the fine print?
Aren't results what are important to us?

As I pointed out in comments to my post, experts in the financial industry are fooled every now and then. As a novice in such things, I think the only way to succeed in this game is to educate yourself to the extent you can, and take precautions to protect yourself however you can against being cheated.

But you can always find an excuse to procastrinate, if that is what you want. And remember that "Can't", or "Won't", succeeds only under strange circumstances.

Is the financial industry complex?
Sure.
Can you and I truly know what is going on there?
Probably not.
Can we take precautions and still end up on the winning end of the stick?
If we can't, let's all vote Democrat and hope for true socialism immediately!

Inertia is a killer in many ways.
It stops people from taking care of their own health.
It stops people with great ideas from starting new businesses, or patenting an idea that could make the rest of their lives comfortable.
It stops them from taking steps that would keep them from having to worry about whether Social Security will be solvent when they are 66 1/2 years old.

Educate yourself. Go read Infgtr's posts. But after reading, I would hope you understand that if you're not devoting the kind of time Infgtr is devoting to the subject, you need to protect yourself in some fundamental ways. My argument was, and is, that a solidly performing Mutual Fund with low expenses is best for innocents like you and me.

Because Inertia will destroy whatever dreams you may have about how you want to live when you reach the Autumn of your life.

"Buy a ticket, Abe!"

Oyster Perpetual

Rolex watches are fine timepieces.

I hated mine.

I went to Viet Nam with a Timex self-wind on my wrist.
Younger folk know the name Timex,
but I may need to explain "self-wind".

The watch had a pendular weight in it that would move as you moved.
The weight was attached to the mainspring, so that just by moving your wrist, you wound the watch.
You never had to do it manually......it "self-wound".
Neat.

But there was no prestige in owning a Timex.
One of my pinochle playing buddies came home from his R&R with a new Rolex GMT.
It was fabulous looking, and as he strutted around with it, I began to wonder if it would be nice to have something more "elite" than my little Timex.

When I went on my R&R, I bought myself a Rolex Submariner.
I think I paid $150 for it.

I hated that watch from the outset.
The "Oyster Perpetual" thing is Rolex's trademarked name for the case
in which the watch is built. It makes their watches extremely strong.

But it also makes them very tall from backplate to crystal.
Mine continually caught on jackets and long sleeve shirts.
It had a stainless steel band that was difficult to adjust to my wrist.
It had to be manually wound!
And believe it or not, it didn't keep time as well as my Timex.

Eventually, I took the thing off and threw it in my jewelry box.

10 years later I took a SCUBA diving class.
At the end of the class, we had to do an "open water" dive
to receive our diver's certifications.
I thought of my Rolex......"waterproof to 330 meters." Perfect!

I retrieved it from my jewelry box and wore it on the dive.
It leaked and quit working.
I was so frustrated with it, I almost threw it away.
But......back in my jewelry box it went.

One late night in 1990 I was listening
to an AM radio station out of Houston, Texas.
A jeweler there was offering to buy old Rolex's in any shape, and broadcast an 800 telephone number you could call to get a quote on what they would pay.

I called.
They offered $250.
I sent the watch, and they sent the check.
I was glad to get rid of the thing!

I just checked to see what a Rolex Submariner is selling for today.
I couldn't believe it!
The lowest price I could find: $1750.00.

What's on my wrist now?
A Timex, of course. (Keeps great time too!)

They're called "Choppers"

I'm pretty sure

this

is a fake.

This is a Robinson R44 helicopter.
The rotor on this machine is almost 11 feet in the air,
and does not droop like the rotor on a Bell JetRanger
does as it slows after shutdown.
The guy would have to be 8 feet tall for this to actually happen.

Nevertheless, the video is pretty effective in making it's point.

Stay Healthy, Avoid Hospitals!

This didn't surprise me, once I had thought about it.

But I bet it's true at home, too!

Thanks to:

You Big Mouth, You

Learning "Blog"

Obviously I'm not talking about "Blog", the language of Neanderthals.
But I have been very tentative about learning how to Blog effectively.

Slowly but surely, I'm exploring and experimenting with options
and functions that are available to me through Blogger.
Pretty exciting stuff, some of it.

Yesterday, in addition to learning how to post photos,
I added a site meter to Pitchpull.
If you scroll to the bottom of the page, you can see the icon that shows this blog is being monitored.
Actually, Big Bubba and I had attempted to add the meter several weeks back, but we didn't push the right button at some point in the process, and not only didn't the icon appear, but I started getting activity reports from Site Meter that said I had zero visits, which obviously was mistaken because folks were leaving comments.

But I was careful and pushed all the right buttons this time,
so there it is.
And what interesting info is available there!
By clicking the icon at the bottom of the page, I find that someone from the South of Australia has visited my site!
(I Loved my visit to Australia in '69!)

It tells you who stopped by, when they were here, what browser they used, and how long they stayed. (And yes, ANYONE can click and tell who is checking in on my site.)

As my Birmingham buddy Jim once said, it tells ya "more than you need to know about Penguins!"

Row Vs. Wade:

OOOOhhhhhh.....terrible pun!
Couldn't help myself!

If you haven't seen it, the Political Teen has the

Video

First Photo Post

Experimenting.
I love this picture.
Spectacular, huh?
Took a while to find it so I could show you.

"Time" Foolery

Twice a year, "Sun Glare" becomes a hazard for
those of us that live West of our workplace......
driving into the rising sun in the morning
and again as it slips toward the horizon in the evening.

In my case, working straight nights, it's reversed........
I live East of my workplace.
Thank God for sun visors and sunglasses!

Next weekend, with a few exceptions around the U.S.,
we will go through our strange ritual of changing our clocks to "save daylight".

How do we make more daylight by fiddling with a clock?

I hate this exercise in stupidity.
There are eleventy-two digital and analog clocks in our house that need changing in order to save daylight! The analogs aren't so bad, but the digitals.........
arggggghhhhh!

I always seem to be the one working the night in October when we
"Fall back", and work an hour for which I am not paid.
Oddly enough, I NEVER seem to work the evening shift where we
"Spring Forward" and get paid for 12 hours after only working 11.

When my parents were living on the lake, I could never remember whether they were an hour ahead or an hour behind me.
It always took me a while to figure if it was a good time to telephone.

For years I've been promoting an idea that would surely make the world a simpler place to live:

ZULU time for everyone!
(Zulu time is Greenwich Mean Time. It's based on the 24 hour clock, and is used by the military and most aviators.)

No more re-setting clocks.
No more confusion about calling your loved ones..
Make an appointment for 2300 Zulu,
and everyone knows what time you'll be shaking hands!
"Call me at 2400 hours" indicates the same time,
no matter where you are on the face of the earth!

If your employer wants to"save daylight",
management can just change the time you are to show up at work from say,
1400 Zulu to 1300 Zulu........no changing clocks to keep it straight in everyone's mind!

So far, my idea hasn't taken off.

So it's time for leadership and drastic action........
I hereby announce my candidacy for "King of the World"!

Vote For Greybeard!

If elected, I promise to be a benevolent King.
And the first thing I will do is stop this lunacy of changing clocks twice a year!

Then I promise to do something about

Gilbert Gottfried

Harriet Miers

I've avoided commenting on the Harriet Miers nomination because there is too much screaming going on about it already. The woman hasn't even had a chance to plead her case!

Quite honestly though, I feel pretty much the same way as I did when "Arnold" was running for Governator of Caleeforneeah......

As John Lennon so aptly said, "Can't get much worse!"

The present court is responsible for the Kelo decision.
Can she do much worse than that?

Horses and Motorcycles

I've owned 6 motorcycles in my life.
If you love to ride motorcycles, you just accept the fact that they are dangerous.....
It's part of the mystique......."living on the edge".

The standing joke in the EMS industry is:
"What's another term for a motorcycle rider?"

"Organ Donor".

I've been to some horrible scenes involving motorcycles.
One, a 19 year old that was running from police,
fell at high speed in a curve.
While my crew was tending to him in the ambulance, another ambulance crewmember approached the helicopter and handed me a BIG trash bag. It was VERY heavy.
Over the din of the helicopter he shouted, " IT'S HIS LEG!"
(The kid later died of blood loss.)

I've got some interesting news for you though....
I think horses are more dangerous than motorcycles.

I'm now in my 20th year of flying a helicopter ambulance, and in that time I have carried FAR more people hurt by horses than by bikes.

I once went to pick up a 12 year old boy who while participating in a rodeo, had fallen from his horse but got his foot caught in the stirrup, and the horse ran for several minutes dragging the poor youngster around in front of horrified spectators.
With terrible closed-head injuries, he died before we could load him aboard the helicopter.

Friday night we picked up another one........a 39 year old guy whose horse bucked him off, then rolled over him. His injuries:
Broken pelvis.
Broken leg.
Dissected urethra.
He'll live, but for a while may wish he hadn't.

The horse is okay.
His wife already has a buyer for it.

Bicycle Blogging, Too

Here's

an attitude I'd like to see generally accepted,
for a number of reasons.

Gotta buy myself a basket!

Thanks to

Cold Fury

(where he is also bicycle blogging!)

"Investing 100" and Greybeard University

At the start, let me emphasize........
I'm NO financial planner.
(And no, I don't play one on TV either.)


There are probably several folks reading this post that know a boatload more than I do about investing.
I know just enough, maybe, to be dangerous.
But for some reason, my meager knowledge has sort of made me the "go to" guy
at my company when co-workers have questions about their retirement plans.
I titled this post "Investing 100", because what I'm about to convey is "bonehead" information, intended to incite some of you "foot draggers"
to do some homework yourself, and then ACT on it!


In 1968,
Ole Prairie Dog and I were learning to fly helicopters in Savannah, GA..
(Horrible duty, by the way.)
At the end of each flying day we'd come back to the company area to find a kindly looking retired Lt. Colonel loitering around,
chatting with our classmates.
He sold Mutual Funds from a Fund Family called "Keystone"

We were all facing a year of flying in Viet Nam,
and all I wanted to do with my money was have a good time.
Investing was pretty low on my priority list.

But he tweaked my curiosity.......
what the heck was a Mutual Fund?
How did they work?

I did some research and bought my first shares of a Mutual Fund in 1970.

I was a licensed broker and sold Mutual Funds from 1974 to '76.

When our "Big Bubba" turned 20,
I challenged him to get started investing.
With my guidance, (and his money), he put $2,000 in a
Roth IRA using Vanguard's "S&P 500 Index Fund".
(I like the Vanguard Family because of their low fees.)

He has continued to invest $2,000 per year in that Fund.
If he continues to invest at that rate,
and the stock market continues to perform as it has historically,
he'll be able to retire when he is still a VERY young man.
I'm proud of him for having the
discipline I didn't have at his age.

Let me share two interesting investing stories:

Identical twins, Uno and Dos, celebrate their 20th birthday.

Uno starts a Roth IRA.
He puts $2,000 a year in a Mutual Fund that has historically grown 8% annually.

Brother Dos says, "Nah, I want to buy a new Harley,
and next year I want a new bass boat.
I'm young, and there's plenty of time to invest later."

Uno continues to squirrel away $2,000 per year for 10 years.
At that point, Uno STOPS putting money in his IRA.

Now, at age 30, Brother Dos decides
it's time to get serious about investing.
He opens an IRA account with the same Fund as his twin.
Assuming he continues adding $2,000 per year, and the Fund continues to earn 8% annually,
at what point will his account value exceed that of his brother's?


My second illustration, similar to the first, will help answer that question.......
Find a Fund or other investment that averages 8% per year interest.
Add $50 a month to that Fund for 10 years.
At that point, stop your monthly deposit,
and start withdrawing $50 per month.
At what point will the Fund be totally depleted?

The answer to both questions?

NEVER!

In the first example, Uno's investment is earning considerably more than $2,000 per year when Dos begins to add $2,000 per year to his new IRA.
Dos can add 2-Grand a year for infinity, and he will NEVER catch up!

In the second illustration, after 10 years the Fund will be earning,
by my quick calculations, $87.63 per month in interest,
so withdrawing $50 a month will allow the principal in the Fund to continue
to grow at a pretty healthy rate.

Historical returns for the overall Stock Market
are above 8% per year.

Do your homework.
Find an investment you can be comfortable with.
Get started now!

(If you have access to a company 403(b), 401(k), or 457,
it makes NO SENSE to not AT LEAST contribute to those accounts at the minimum contribution necessary to take advantage of company matching funds........a 100% per year return on that money!!!)

And as both my illustrations show, time is critical.......
sooner is MUCH better than later!

If all this is still confusing, let me recommend the book:
"The Wealthy Barber" by David Chilton.
It's a quick, easy, enjoyable read,
and will answer most of your investing questions.

(I wish someone had shared this with me when I was 20!)

Update: 23 October

Wow, this got out of hand in a flash!

Read the comments.
My intent was to provide some VERY basic investing examples and prod some slackers into doing a little study on their own before setting cautiously off on a journey to improve their lives.
I started the post with the "I'm no expert" disclaimer.
Notice also the investment I have started my son in: An S&P 500 Fund that does virtually no stirring, and therefore has extremely low fees.
For that reason, most all of Big Bubba's money stays at work.
That's the path I will continue to take until I see a better way.

Infgtr has extraordinary credentials.
What I glean from his comments is that if you aren't gonna retire shortly,
you'd better be looking for ways to hide your money, and invest it in more complicated vehicles than I recommended.
If that is true, I'm more out of touch than I could have imagined.
I'm fearful of a scenario where you have to be an attorney to be sure you have efficiently hidden your money from Big Brother and other meanies.

Has it really come to that?

Bicycle Blogging

Is my experience normal?

Where I grew up, kids rode bicycles everywhere.
I had one, my sister had one.
When mine was broken, I rode (and broke) hers!

I had a paper route. The route covered about two miles.......four miles round trip.
I rode that route 7 Days a week, then used the bike to ride to play baseball, football, or basketball with friends.

My folks had agreed to buy me a new bike.
Nothing but a "Schwinn" bicycle would do........
the quality of other bikes
had been such a disappointment.

We went to the bike shop and got brochures on
the different models that were available.
A model called the "Phantom" immediately caught my eye!
This bike was called a "middleweight" at the time.
English style commuter bikes with their skinny little tires and three-speed gearshifts were being imported by this time, and the Phantom was a compromise between those and the "Balloon Tire Bombers" that had been produced up to the early 50's.
It had no gearshift........one speed. It had a "knee action" suspension on the front, and a coaster brake, (the kind where you push the pedal backwards for braking action.)
It had a horn in the tank. The horn was a pain in the butt because it needed batteries all the time. The horn got wet when it rained, and quit working in short order.
My Phantom was Candy Apple Red.

When I see pictures of the Phantom now, it reminds me a lot of Pee Wee Herman's bike in "Pee Wee's Big Adventure."

It was cool!
I remember it cost $70, which was a ton of money circa 1957.
My Dad was hesitant to spend that kind of money.
Mom was in my corner........she argued that I used the bike on my paper route, and besides, it was what I wanted and it would be nice to give me something I wanted so badly.

Dad gave in.

Fast Forward to 1981.
When I first met Sara Jean here in our little town, I rode a bike for exercise and errands. I had mapped out an 11 mile course that I rode daily, weather permitting.
By this time I was riding a bike with more speeds than I knew how to use. You shifted gears with two little levers at the center of the handlebars. I never learned to use the shifter well, but I did learn to downshift a couple gears to make it easier going uphill.

I actually got to the point where I had "runner's high" from riding every day!
When I'd miss my ride, my body didn't feel normal.

Then "Big Bubba" was born, and life got complicated with a job or two.
I quit riding.
I hung the bike from hooks in the garage, and watched as, over the years, the tires decayed and the frame rusted.

When he was old enough, I bought Big Bubba a 10-speed bike.
He rode a little, but not like his Old Man when I was his age.
I rode Big Bubba's bike now and then, and liked the feeling.

Forward again to today:
I've been studying bikes for awhile.
They're amazing.
You can easily spend $4,000 for "Lance Armstrong" bikes with frames made of exotic materials that weigh 12 pounds!
$700 buys a recumbent bicycle so you can sleep while you ride.

But something else caught my eye:
Last week, for less than $200, I bought a 21-speed
"Mountain Bike" with a front disc brake, front and rear suspension, quick-release front wheel,
and shifters on each hand grip.
(Is it possible to compare this bike to the $70 Schwinn Phantom my Dad bought in 1959?)

I'm now back to riding my 11 mile course every-other-day.
25 years ago, I could do it in 35 minutes.
Now it takes me an hour.
(Let's see.......11 miles ridden in one hour would be what......
11 m.p.h. average, right?)

I'm gonna work on getting the speed up, but not to the point where I don't enjoy the ride.
The idea is to work off the calories, and get back to the point where chicks whistle at my legs!

Gimme a little while!

Pakistan

Just in case you needed something to fret about today:

The earthquake in Kashmir may be a watershed event.

Half of Pakistan's citizens think Osama Bin Laden is the moral opposite of William Jefferson Clinton.
That half of Pakistan has already made at least three credible attempts to help Musharraf assume ambient temperature.

I've been listening to interviews of Pakistani citizens on the BBC.
The "Beeb" is portraying Musharraf's response to these events as less than satisfactory.

He has a political nightmare on his hands........
he needs to be visible, personally directing the emergency response to this catastrophe.
But he knows he'd likely be a target at every turn.........

The U.S. attacked Iraq because we suspected they MIGHT have Weapons of Mass Destruction at their disposal.
What should be our response if the Nuclear capable Pakistani government falls into the hands of radical Islamists?

We live in "interesting" times!

Where Eagles Fly

Over at

www.formerlyliving.blogspot.com,

Mike left a comment about flying with me over the Illinois River valley,
seeing the remarkable recovery that has been made by our Bald Eagle population.

In January and February,
breeding pairs can be spotted every 50 feet or so in trees alongside the river where there is open water.

In trees with no leaves, a three foot tall bird perched on a limb sticks out like a sore thumb!

Before my Dad passed away, my folks lived on lakefront property in Southern Indiana. High in a tree in the hills above their home, my Dad noticed a breeding pair of Eagles in a big nest, and called the Department of Natural Resources folks to insure they were aware of the birds.
The very next day, and for several days thereafter, a helicopter circled the nest.

When the pair of chicks hatched, the DNR folks came out for a closer look.
Dad accompanied them on the hike up the hill, and took pictures as they scaled the tree and lowered the eaglets to the ground.

I was surprised to learn that Eagle parents put up NO FIGHT AT ALL against this raid on their nest........
they flew off a short distance and watched quietly as the Conservationists weighed, measured, and took blood samples from their offspring!

Also surprising was how docile the hatchlings were while being stuck, poked, and prodded!
My previous perception was that our National symbol would have been pretty aggressive in protecting itself, and more so its' young!

Over the next several years, Dad and Mom took great pleasure in watching this pair of Eagles raise several families in that same nest.

I'm thrilled to watch the birds soaring over the river in January in large numbers...........
acrobatically jousting with one another.......
six foot wingspan and oh-so-obvious white head and tail on the mature birds!

It's also gratifying that some Government programs work.
The protection of our "endangered" Bald Eagle certainly has!

The Chinook Cha-Cha

Different Helicopters
come with different types of Rotor Systems:
Rigid,
Semi-Rigid,
Fully Articulated,
and hybrids of the above.

As you might expect,
each of these systems has advantages and disadvantages.

The U.S. Army's big Chinook
has a fully articulated rotor system.
This rotor can be compared
to the connection of your arm to your shoulder.......
the individual rotors can move fore and aft,
up and down, all at the same time,
similar to your arms moving independently.

The fully articulated system is a complicated one,
with MANY moving parts,
but when properly balanced and tracked,
it provides a "Cadillac on the boulevard" ride.

One of the disadvantages of this system
is that if you shock it with a hard bump on landing or takeoff,
the rotor can get dramatically out of balance,
and that unbalanced condition can amplify and worsen catastrophically.

Videos
http://www.chinook-helicopter.com/video/Ground_Resonance_Rear_View.mpg


and
http://www.chinook-helicopter.com/video/Ground_Resonance_Side_View.mpg

show two views of the same helicopter experiencing
this phenomenon,
called "Ground Resonance".

I assume the fact that the helicopter is restrained on a test bed
with two detailed videos of the incident
is an indication this was an Army test.
Notice the puffs of smoke from the engines,
indicating they have been shut down
as the Ground Resonance begins to destroy the airframe.

I have no information on what this test was analyzing,
or if Ground Resonance was expected.

I'd like to know more.

Hero?

I'm proud of my service to my country.

Being eligible for the draft, and then drafted at the age of 19,
at the time of a growing conflict in Viet Nam,
put a focus on my life that young people don't experience today.

But let me make an uncomfortable confession:
I tried to avoid Viet Nam!

A week into Basic Training, I was summoned to the Orderly Room by the Company Commander.
I was a Private........lower than a snake's belly.......
Being called by, and then standing in front of that 2nd Lieutenant was a scary experience!
He pushed a paper across his desk to me, and said, "sign at the bottom".
I signed, THEN asked, "what is this?"
"Your GT (overall aptitude) scores are high enough, so you're goin' to O.C.S.!"

Oh, really!

Not, "would you like to go to O.C.S.?",
just......."sign here".

I knew I could refuse the orders later if I wanted, so I didn't complain to this man that could make life REALLY miserable for a lowly Private in the U.S. Army!

After two months in Basic Training, and two months in South Carolina learning how to be a good Infantryman, I cooled my jets for 8 months waiting for orders dispatching me to O.C.S..

I actually started Officer's school in May of '67.
Sometime during O.C.S., the U.S. and the North Vietnamese started actually talking to one another about ending the conflict.

I'm not a gung-ho warrior at heart, so the idea of having to waste my combat training at an assignment in say.........Hawaii, instead of going to Viet Nam, didn't trouble me too much!

But it took months for those involved in the talks to agree on the size and shape of the negotiating table!

Meanwhile, mid-way through O.C.S. the message went out......
"those interested in going to Flight School
should meet in the classroom at ****hours."

I was interested.
Again, I signed the forms........partly for the training, but partly in hopes that the peace negotiations would bear fruit before I had to get on the plane for that long flight across the Pacific.

While I was in Flight School, the negotiators agreed on the number and size of the flags that would be placed on the table!

I graduated Flight School, and had delayed as long as I could.

On 1 November, 1968 I got on the plane and went to do my duty as an Army Gunship pilot in Viet Nam.

You can find stories of some of my Viet Nam experiences
in the Archives of this Blog.
My tour was........."interesting".

When I meet people and they find out I flew helicopters in Viet Nam,
their attitude toward me changes. Some have referred to me and my peers as "heroes".

Personally, I'm more than a little uncomfortable with that.

It all boils down to the word "Hero", and how you define it.

Let me tell you how I define "Hero".
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


At the Battle of Gettysburg,
Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain's troops had faced the worst of the fighting for over two days.

They were attrited, exhausted, and out of ammunition on "Little Round Top" when the Confederate Troops started their attack.

Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain's response?
He commanded his men:
"FIX BAYONETS.........CHARGE!"
And they did!

Heroes!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


World War II bomber crews in Europe had to complete 25 missions to be able to rotate back home.

The average lifespan of one of these crews was 8 missions!
These crews knew their chances of survival and rotation back home was virtually ZERO,
yet, by the thousands, they boarded their aircraft and took off to do their duty.

Heroes!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


In Somalia, Para-Rescue troops SFC Randy Shugart and MSG Gary Gordon were aboard a helicopter circling the "Blackhawk Down" in the intersection at Mogadishu.
Knowing their mission would probably result in their deaths,
they nevertheless requested to be inserted at the site.
Their request was refused by the Commander.
Did they relax and say, "Oh well, we tried?"
Nope.
They made their request again......this time more emphatically!
And they were inserted,
And they died, protecting others.

Heroes!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


New York, September 11, 2001.
Firefighters wearing 100 pounds of protective equipment face a 30 minute uphill trek "against the flow" of traffic desperately trying to escape the building, knowing they are about to face something never experienced in history, and more dangerous than anything they could ever imagine.
Yet they climbed the stairs, providing assistance where they could to get others to safety.

Heroes!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


When I think of these "Heroes", I am reduced to tears and humbled.
Yes, I'm proud of my service.
But much of my story can be summed up: "right place, right time."
Viet Nam helped me learn much about my own character.

But in comparison to these "Heroes",
my sacrifice for my country seems a pretty small thing, indeed.

How do you define "Hero"?

Run Away, Run Away!

I'm puzzled.

We've all seen the video of the evacuation of Galveston/Houston before Rita's arrival...
The slowly-moving parking lot...

It brought to mind memories of a trip we took some years ago to a family reunion in St. Petersburg, Florida.

We were traveling Southbound on Interstate 75, just South of the Florida State line. I checked the speedometer and it read 70, which I believe was 5 over the speed limit there.

And then a quick check of the rear-view mirror showed a big backwards "M" on the right side, a big reverse "K" on the left side, and a big backwards "CA" in the center!
"KCAM"

Pretty frightening!

Traffic was VERY heavy... when I tried to maintain the safe, "two second" rule... two seconds distance behind the car in front of us, someone would pass me and cut the spacing to one second or less.

A quick conversation with Sara Jean confirmed that she was as uncomfortable with the situation as was I.
It was just a matter of time until there was an accident, and then, if we were lucky enough to not be involved ourselves, we'd be prisoners on the Interstate... either motionless, or moving at 2 m.p.h. toward the next exit 10 miles away!

A quick check of our map indicated that Florida Highway 19 paralleled our course. It was just two lanes, and went through lots of little towns, but it had to be preferable to this I-75 lunacy!
We took the next exit and went West 2 miles to Hwy. 19.

NO TRAFFIC! The road was excellent, and we could actually take our eyes off the road and traffic and enjoy the scenery!

So here's my obvious question: Why didn't folks fleeing Galveston take the first farm road off the Interstate highway and get away from that congested situation on the Interstate? I've lived in Texas. I know what their farm roads are like. If you've never been there, Texas has frontage roads that are nicer than some Interstates I've driven on in Michigan, or Arkansas!

Run out of gas on one of these roads, and help is just a knock on a "neighbors" door away. Texans are friendly folk!

Encounter an accident? Drive around it!

I bet the traffic they encountered would have been less stressful than on the bigger highway too!

Flying Home

The phone rings.

Dispatch tells us where to go, and the patient's complaint.

Sometimes, the flight is to my home town,
population.......less than 10,000.

I've been fortunate that I've never had to transport a close friend or family member, but I HAVE carried close acquaintances.

In flight, headed to my home hospital, I wonder what we'll encounter when we get there.


Some years ago, we were dispatched to my home hospital
to pick up a 7 year old boy that had "fallen down a flight of stairs".

Alarm Bells!

I shut the aircraft down and proceeded to the E.R. to check out the situation.

Outside the E.R. door were two clutches of people,
each containing 5-or-so folks.

One of the groups was Black,
the other White.

The tension was thick enough to slow your walking speed.
These folks weren't looking at one another.

Here's the story:
The White Mother of our patient was previously married to a Black man.
Our patient is the result of that marriage.

Now married to a White man, Grandparents and other members of the respective families constitute the two groups in the hallway outside the E.R..

A White man approaches me, obviously under a great deal of stress,
puts his index finger within a few inches of my nose
and says emphatically,
"That's my stepson you're flying. He's a REALLY special kid!
You take damn good care of him!"

Strange.......
Inappropriate.

My crew wheels the kid out........
he's that beautiful "coffee and cream" color of many mixed race kids,
with an innocent, almost pretty, face.

He's unconscious, bruised, with a terrible closed-head injury.

I followed up:
He lived a week.

StepDad was arrested an hour after accosting me.
Charged with murder after our patient's death,
tried,
convicted,
sentenced to 40 years in the Pen.

The Alarm Bells were justified.........
My gut said "GUILTY" when I suppressed the urge
to break off his finger and hand it to him!

Times Beach, Missouri, Volume II

Do you remember the story of Times Beach?

In a nutshell, the town was built on Old Route 66,on the bank of the Meramec River.

The Meramec flooded frequently.

I'm unsure of the exact date, but sometime in the late 70's the river overflowed it's banks and the residents were forced to evacuate their homes.

Residents were generally poor, and most didn't have flood insurance,
so there was a great clamor for the Federal Government to help people rebuild their homes and lives.

And the U.S. Government responded and spent the $$$$$.

Now, the residents of Times Beach were logical people, right?
They got the help rebuilding their homes.
But they STILL lived alongside a river that flooded frequently.
So to make sure they were never in that predicament again,
they took EVERY action possible to avoid a recurrence,
to include buying flood insurance, right?

Wrong, Bunky!

In 1982, the river rose again, and once again forced people out of their homes.
And again, there was a great cry for Federal help.

My thought was, how can these people expect the U.S. taxpayer to pull their stones outta the fire this second time?
But this time, there was a twist.........

In the early 70's, residents had hired a waste oil hauler to spray oil
on their roads to control dust.
This DIRTBAG had taken a contract to dispose of waste oil that contained high levels of Dioxin.

And where did he dispose of the Dioxin-tainted oil?
Oh, Bunky, you are quick!

Times Beach.

Now, Times Beach residents didn't need to say,
"we were flooded out again, help us".
Instead the clamor was: "we have poisons all around our homes.......help us!"

And the U.S. taxpayer responded again, buying out homes of people that didn't have the sense to buy flood insurance,
although they lived alongside the oft-flooding Meramec!

You see where I'm headed with this, right?
Flooding.......toxic waste..........flooding again.

Katrina delivered a powerful punch to New Orleans,
and now Rita may be on the way.

And what about next hurricane season, and the next.............and the next?

Is New Orleans STILL under sea level?
Yes, Bunky, I believe it is!

If we spend BILLIONS and BILLIONS and BILLIONS rebuilding and detoxing
New Orleans over the next years,
will New Orleans be under water again in the future?

Am I truly on a rant here?
Right on both counts, Bunk!

There WILL be common-sense talk about using the BILLIONS to build the city somewhere else, and allow the Mississippi to reclaim New Orleans.

Folks that take this stance will be called racists,
and worse.

I have NO DOUBT we will spend the BILLIONS this time.

But it will happen again,
just like Times Beach.

And then..........better decision making may prevail.

IN$ANE!

Pirate Pitchpull!

In honor of "National Talk Like a Pirate Day",
I bring your attention to

This

When you click on my "Pirate Pitchpull" blogroll,
you find they have done it with ALL the links!

Questions:

Who?
Why?
How much work did that take?

"Unusual Attitude", Me beauties!
Shiver Me Timbers!

A Problem With Gas

Over at Aviatrix's blog,

Cockpit Conversation

she asked why they didn't publish "maximum endurance" figures on cars the way they do for flying machines.

With gasoline being sold at $3 per gallon and higher, it's a valid question.

I posted a comment in answer to her question which I will share with you, along with some further thoughts on transportation costs today.

I used to be a "member" at National Public Radio and Public TV.
I quit contributing to NPR when they became a broadcast arm of one of our political parties, but I freeload by continuing to listen to some of my favorite programs.
As an auto enthusiast, I enjoy "Click and Clack, The Tappet Brothers".

Some time back the boys discussed the point at which a car will get the best gas mileage. This happens when the engine is turning at the slowest RPM in it's top road gear..........4th gear in a 4 speed transmission. At this point you are using the least fuel to cover the most distance. Go faster, and you incur higher wind resistance, (drag), and mileage will decrease.

This speed is easy to discover in a car with an automatic transmission......accelerate slowly and watch the tachometer (or just listen) for the transmission to make that last shift, and note the speed.

With a manual transmission you need to consider the slowest speed your car will go without bogging the engine down.

Tire pressures are also an important factor. Higher pressures mean lower rolling resistance and better mileage, but also mean a sacrifice in ride quality.......the car will ride rougher.

I've been experimenting with our car on the way to work. My trip is 35 miles, with a small town about midway where I have to make 3 stops at stop signs.

I found that our 4300 pound car with automatic transmission shifts into top (4th) gear at 40 miles per hour when I am accelerating gently.
I also found that if I tried to drive at that speed, when I encountered a hill along the way, the tranny would downshift to third to climb the hill, therefore less miles per gallon.

Adding 5 m.p.h. to the speed.........45......... precluded this from happening.
I reset the onboard computer as I drove away from home.
When I got to work, the computer indicated 32.8 miles per gallon!
Not bad for a 4300 pound car with a 253 horsepower, 3.5 liter V-6!

Of course, driving at 45 m.p.h. needs to be factored into my plans for making it to work on time, but at $3.00 per gallon, I have the incentive to take the extra time!

An electric car would be an attractive option. I could recharge at home, then plug in at work and recharge for the drive home.
There are cars that can range out as far as 35-40 miles at 50 miles per hour, so that wouldn't be a problem.
But the kits for these automobiles run about $7,000, and for that money I can buy a lot of gas, even at $3 per gallon!

I've also been looking at Diesels. They get better mileage than a comparable gasoline auto, and the old complaints about them.....noise, vibration, and smell........are less and less a factor with the newer vehicles.
But I found an interesting thing: you can run them on vegetable oil!
Many penny pinchers are now going to restaurants and offering them a win/win situation: Let me have your old deep frying oil, and instead of having to pay to have it hauled off, I'll do it for free!

But as usual, there is a catch here too:
Diesel engines won't start on the vegetable oil.
The solution is to have two fuel systems on your vehicle.
Start the engine on Diesel, then switch to the vegetable oil system.
BUT, you must remember to switch back to the Diesel system before shutting the engine down in order to be able to start the engine the next time!

Vegetable oil conversions can be purchased for less than $1,000, if you decide you'd like to cut back on costs this way.

Another viable alternative is Natural gas/Propane.
Any gasoline fueled car can be converted to burn Natural gas or Propane. Adjustments need to be made to the fuel injection and engine control computer, and the fuel storage system needs to be adapted to your individual vehicle.
Costs will vary depending on how much your vehicle needs to be modified, but the cost of using Natural gas/Propane instead of gasoline at $3 per would make the changeover worthwhile in a very short time!

Gas prices are headed back down as I write this, thank goodness!
But fuel costs are now on everyone's mind, and I suspect we'll see a change in attitude when people go to buy a new car/truck in the future.

As for me, until I'm ready to buy my next new car, I'll be driving to work at 45 miles per hour!

Creatures of Habit

One of my paramedics and I were having a discussion the other day. He is working toward becoming an RN, and we were discussing a class he was taking on aging and senility.

He discussed the fact that more and more, we are learning that
"use it or lose it" is really true.....
People that do active things with their minds like reading, solving puzzles, going to museums, conversing with interesting acquaintances..........
maintain their mental acuity longer than "couch potatoes".
(Eat your heart out, Dan Quayle!)

We then got into a discussion about what creatures of habit we are, and how slight changes in our routines may help us to stay mentally sharp longer.

One of the suggestions he studied was that changing simple things, like the route you take to drive to work or home, would establish new nerve pathways and would stimulate your brain in ways that would help it stay healthy.
Any area of your life that requires you to do routine things........
tie your shoes, make coffee, write notes, etc...........
if you make minor changes in the way you pursue the task, will help to stimulate your brain and help keep it healthy longer.
(Can you write with your weak hand?)

This evening I put our discussion into action:
I noticed that when I take a shower, I do EXACTLY the same things each time! I am right-handed, so this evening I decided I would use my left hand to bathe myself, with the exception, of course, of things that are impossible to do with my left hand, like washing my left arm!

Try it yourself!
What an alien feeling, trying to use my left hand to make the wash cloth go into tiny areas of my right ear, or between my toes!

And the immediate relaxation when I returned to the comfort zone, using my right hand to wash my left arm!
Seems silly, doesn't it?
Well, you'll be surprised when you have a go at it!

But I'm surprised and enlightened by this experiment, and I'm gonna try to put little changes into my life everywhere I can!

So, readers..........all THREE of you!.........I challenge you:
Make little changes in your life too, and when you are surprised, pleased, or confused by something, share it with the rest of us!

P.S.
When I published my last three posts, I was thrilled to immediately get a comment!
When I read the comments though, they said something like,
"Your blog rocks! If others share their ideas like this, the world will certainly be a better place!"

Neat.
But then the next line..........
"come check out my blog, www.comevacationinHaiti.com"

Computer generated Spam!
So if you try to comment, you'll notice I have installed a verification process to try to eliminate spammers.
I'm sorry to make it more difficult, but I don't want my site taken over by mindless comments.

Where is the Rewind Button?

In an earlier post, titled "When Chihuahua's Attack!" I wrote:

Little Bubba has this same spirit. He thinks he is the meanest Mutha around, and a great hunter to boot! Rabbits easily outdistance him. Squirrels enjoy it when he gives chase, and then they turn and taunt him from halfway up the tree! When he is on one of these "quests" he is a blockhead with selective hearing... he may as well be deaf! Forget thinking you have any control over him! Of course, I've grown quite fond of having "blockhead" around... can't imagine coming home and not having him meet us ecstatically!


Friday was a beautiful day... 85 degrees, cloudless. I was puttering around, tending to honey-do's. I had replaced the thermostat on my work car... was satisfied I had the problem licked, and was in the process of putting my tools away.

Little Bubba was supervising, in addition to insuring the ferocious squirrels didn't try to come too close to me while I was working.
He was doing a great job!

One last squirrel tried to approach, and Lil' Bubba went after him. The squirrel went up, then twice around the Cottonwood, then hit the ground about 5 feet in front of Lil' Bubba. They both made a headlong run at top speed toward the road, just as the first car in 20 minutes headed Eastbound on our street. The squirrel escaped in front of the car, and I watched in hope that the car was going fast enough to clear the road before Little Bubba crossed. But he was too fast, and ran full speed into the front wheel.
I saw him thrown 3 feet in the air like a rag doll, then lie motionless, perfectly parallel to the road, on the gravel alongside our yard. He quivered a little, but there was "nobody home" in his eyes.
Mercifully, neck completely broken... He was gone.

A three year old Red Dachshund, in perfect health... slender...
a beautiful specimen.

Gone.

I'm devastated.

No sleep the first night, and for two days now, I've been lookin' for life's "rewind" button, to go back to 5 minutes before the incident and take Little Bubba in my arms.

At safety briefings while I was in the Army, they frequently showed us a chart which had the stressors of life listed. Each of the stressors had a numerical value, and Commanders and safety officers were supposed to keep an eye on their Aviators for cumulative stress in their lives. At the top of the chart was "Loss of Spouse or Child", and let's say that value was 10.
Divorce was up there too, with a value of 9 or so.
Loss of employment was high, as was serious illness and financial complications.

Managers were to use the chart as a guide... if total stresses exceeded a certain value, and it would have been in the neighborhood of 9-10, an Aviator could be grounded until his personal situation was more under control.

Loss of a beloved pet should also be high on that list. It is Sunday night as I type here, and I am starting my work shift. I'm still easily reduced to a blubbering, incoherent blob when I think about no "Little Bubba" to greet me when I get home in the morning! If I had been scheduled to work on Friday or Saturday night, I would have called in "sick".

I think I am now at the point where being at work will be therapeutic... being away from home with a task to pursue will help me to get back to a routine.

But at home... I hear sounds like his bark, I see his little head at the door, begging to come in after he has been out to "take care of business"... when I sit down I expect him to assume his normal position on my lap.

Sara Jean has not been able to force herself to clean his nose prints off our front door.

How does anyone survive the loss of a child, or a wife/husband of 60 years?

Little Bubba, (Frankie) was a bigger part of our life than we could have realized...

It's gonna take a while to recover, folks.

Idiot Chimp Hitler Bush!

It has been fascinating to watch/hear/read the New York Times, CNN, NPR, and the rest of the "Major Media Sources" trying their hardest to pin the brunt of the Hurricane Katrina failures on the President!
(He is not without fault, but his mistakes have been relatively minor.)
And I have an insiders knowledge of how all this vomit is gonna eventually blow back in their faces!
Let me explain.

You may remember in an earlier post, my story of first being a dogcatcher and ending up being the Assistant Coordinator of the County Health Dept. after the County Executive decided he wanted to save me from becoming an alcoholic?

Well there is more to that story:
Part of the reason he wanted me aboard was that in 1975 a mutual friend, working as a Deputy Sheriff, had bought two surplus Bell 47 helicopters for the County from the U.S. Government. By bringing me aboard as a County employee he could Deputize me, and I could also fly for the Sheriff's Department.

But going through the process of buying the helicopters, ($1.00 each at the time.....how many would you like?), he found that his Civil Defense Director was failing in his job.

My friend the County Executive was apparently impressed with my performance as the Chief Dogcatcher, and came one day with another offer:

"I need someone to take over the job of Director of Civil Defense. The present Director was supposed to have written the County's Emergency Operations Plan a year ago, and he hasn't even gotten started on it."

The Director of what is now called "Emergency Management" in the County was an older man, and writing the "E.O.P.", an all-encompassing document, was simply more than he wanted to tackle!

I felt an obligation to show my thanks for my Co. Exec. friend, so I took the job and started writing the emergency plan immediately.

And boy, is it inclusive!
Our county was bordered by two MAJOR rivers, so interestingly, flooding was our most important threat to cover, but there were other considerations..........tornados, major fires, and of course, at the time, the nuclear threat from the U.S.S.R..

To make a long story short, from that experience I knew where the ball had been dropped when I saw how many folks remained behind in New Orleans, and the fact that they were stuck there, starving and thirsty after the wind and rain had stopped and the water started to rise.

Have you seen the pictures of the Municipal and School buses underwater in New Orleans?
Have you heard the excuse the Mayor is giving as to why he didn't use them to get his population to safety?
(He didn't want them traveling in such Spartan accomodations.........he had asked Greyhound to send buses to move his constituents!)

This is criminal!
And please watch as this unfolds.........watch to see who continues to dig themselves a hole, even though they have reached bottom.
Senator Landrieu continues to dig..........she is in HUGE political trouble, as is the Mayor and the Governor, (and I'm ashamed to have to call Ms. Blanco that!)

As another buddy would say........."watch out for the assplosion"!
It's gonna be interesting!

Fable

I am a Christian, but not from the "Taliban" wing of the Church.

But a fable told by Christians is timely today, I think:

A terrible storm is coming.
Emergency personnel go out in Loudspeaker trucks to warn residents to evacuate.
Tyrone Jacobus says, "The Lord will take care of me."

The rain comes down in bucketloads, and a 4-wheel drive stops at Tyrone's door to offer escape.
Tyrone says, "The Lord will protect me."

Floods overtake Tyrone's house and in desperation he climbs to the roof. A helicopter hovers over his head, but Tyrone refuses help, saying, "The Lord will provide for me."

The water continues to rise, and Tyrone is swept away and drowns.
At the gates of heaven, Tyrone asks the gatekeeper, "Why didn't the Lord save me?"

The gatekeeper replies......."we sent warning trucks, a 4X4 vehicle, and a helicopter to save you. What more could the Lord do?"

The day Katrina hit New Orleans, Fox News' Shepherd Smith asked a guy drinking at a bar in downtown New Orleans why he was still in town.
The guy replied, "None of your F*****G business!"

I'd love to ask this Tyrone.........is it our business now?

Three For Three

December, 1968
Pleiku, Viet Nam

I was happily settled into a semblance of a routine life with the 4th Infantry Division at Camp Enari, Viet Nam. Division managers began looking at the way aviators had been added to the Division and noticed that almost 20 percent of the Division's Aviator strength had been added in November of '68. This meant there would be an unacceptable loss of expertise in October of '69. The only way to resolve the problem was to "infuse" some aviators to other Divisions and bring in new replacements.

I got picked to move.
I received orders to go to the "Americal Division" at Chu Lai.

Although I hate to move, my new assignment was a blessing. My new housing overlooked the South China Sea. The unit had a deficiency of gunship pilots and welcomed me with open arms.

After going through the normal checkouts to insure I was qualified and current, I started flying missions.

One morning I was scheduled to fly with "Granddaddy" Jim Elrod.
Granddaddy was a CW4, the highest ranking Warrant Officer in the Army at the time. He was 52, our unit's oldest aviator, and had a daughter older than me.

Granddaddy liked me. When we met in operations to be briefed for the mission, Granddaddy asked if I would like to fly "right seat".........the command seat in the UH-1C gunship.......and my first chance to shoot rockets!
I jumped at the chance!

Our mission was a routine reconnaissance........OH-6 "little bird" flyin' REAL low........checking things out, with Granddaddy and I following close behind, just a little higher in altitude, to provide the little bird some protection.

We'd been searching an area with big rocks.........similar to what we used to see in Cowboy movies.......for about 15 minutes when the little bird called out........"RECEIVING FIRE!"

I pointed the nose of the Huey toward him, lined up my "infinity" rocket sight at the area he was fleeing, and pushed the rocket firing button twice.

WHOOSH, WHOOSH......two rockets with 10 pound high-explosive warheads were on their way to a rocky outcropping.

Then the world exploded. I had no sense of a big bang, but I felt a rush and had an instant of pain in my face. I was confused.
For just a moment, I was not in control of the aircraft.

I turned to Granddaddy and keyed the intercom...........said, "What the Hell was that?" But the intercom made no sound.

I tried again........"Can you hear me?" He shook his head........"NO."

Regaining my senses, I looked back to control the aircraft and saw that my infinity sight reticle was gone. Beyond that, there was a 30 calibre hole in my windshield! Granddaddy reached over and grabbed my helmet cord and held it up........shot in half!

The round had come through the windshield, through my rocket sight, then missed my face by six inches when it cut my helmet cord in two. Plexiglass from the windshield and glass from the rocket sight had blasted my face and eyes. My face was covered with tiny pinpricks of blood, and my eyes began to sting and tear.

We aborted the mission and called in another gun team.

Back at base, the Flight Surgeon spent 45 minutes picking slivers of glass and plexiglass out of my eyes and face.
In two days I was good as new.

Two months later, at a battalion awards ceremony, I received the Purple Heart.
When I see guys without arms and legs wearing the same award I received, I wonder if I should have gotten it.

But imagine my mental attitude.........
Crashed in October and destroyed the aircraft when the governor failed.
In November the "lift link" failed......a potentially fatal mechanical condition we found after almost deciding the aircraft was flyable.

And now this incident in January.
Three incidents that threatened my life........

There were 8 months left in my Viet Nam tour. I really wondered what was in store for me just around the corner!

Kids Love My Balls

Oh my! Sorry about the title, but you ARE interested, aren't you?

The Fair is in town.
10 days of carnival, horse racing, car racing, cattle showing, and judges trying to figure out if Aunt Violette's persimmon pudding is the best of the batch!

Our little town of 7000 gets invaded by the mob with all the "Dead Presidents" to spread around. It's a wonderful time!

A couple weeks ago I received a call from the public relations director of a company that owns 6 radio stations in the midwest. "Can we hire you to come to the Fair and drop Ping-Pong balls?"

It's a job I've never done, but how much skill can be involved here?
Fly over an open field while adults hold hordes of kids back..........dump out 200-or-so ping-pong balls at the proper altitude and location, right?

And that's pretty much it. The radio people had bought the balls in four colors......white, orange, pink, and lime green. Then they had added their own symbols with a magic marker. Kids were to wait until we flew over, and my new passenger/assistant, the lovely Kristin, dumped the balls. When given the okay, they could scramble to pick up the balls to redeem for prizes available at stalls corresponding to color/symbol at the opposite side of the field.

They divided the kids up into age groups: 4-7, 8-10, and 11-12. Prizes were pretty much what kids would be interested in.........toys for the really young ones, and more substantial stuff for the older kids. Not suprisingly, this radio group gave away some really nice radios to the older kids!

We turned and watched the scramble after we had made the drop. On my first pass, our altitude was too low and the balls ended up in a pretty tight area....the 4-7 year olds were on top of one another searching for the treasure!

The next two drops were better.......from 50 or so feet higher, and with the help of a 5 knot wind, the load got spread out over an area large enough that the kids weren't scrapping for the same ball.

Les Nessman and WKRP would have been proud!

All in all, a fun job, and a great promotion for the radio stations!

Helicopter flying.........something different every day!

Offering My Services

I am hereby offering my services to anyone that might need them.

New Orleans is filling with water. They will need helicopters and pilots there to evacuate thousands of people.

I'll be watching media and trade outlets to see if I can volunteer to help anywhere. If any readers hear of an organization looking for help I can provide, please leave a comment with that information!
GB

Katrina and the Wave

Like many of you, I've been watching reports of Hurricane Katrina and her effect on New Orleans.

Watching these reporters stand out in wind strong enough to almost take them off their feet has become a real source of amusement.

How long before we see, on live TV, a 300 year old Live Oak tree fall on one of them?

I'm sorry, but when it happens, like the big foot mashing the guy at the end of the title credits to "Monty Python's Flying Circus", I may have the perverse urge to laugh out loud!

Another Kind of Pollution

I want to discuss energy usage and light pollution with you.

It's not uncommon for my wife to come home after sundown and find me sitting in a dark house watching TV, or reading a magazine under the only illuminated lamp in the house. It drives her crazy!

"Why is this house SO DARK?" she'll exclaim, as she begins to turn on every light she passes.

It's a divide between us that will never be closed. She was raised in Chicago in bad neighborhoods and is afraid of the dark. I was raised in a rural area where we never locked our doors, and if there was a street light in the community, I cannot remember it.
(Help me Trojans.......do you remember any?)

What I can remember is camping out in the backyard, lying on my back, looking at the sky filled with so many stars that it looked as if someone had crushed glass from horizon to horizon.

Go outside tonight and if it's clear, try to see stars. These days, you'll be lucky if you can see even the brightest of them! Ambient light pollutes our atmosphere and prevents starlight from reaching our eyes.

But I have gotten off the path I intended to take with this rant.

It's normal for me to come home, even in the day, and find every light in the house burning. Since my requests that my wife pay the electricity bill were rejected, it obviously gives me acid reflux to see this much waste.........and don't even think about trying to take the high road by reminding her that energy is in short supply and such waste is immoral.........she doesn't care.

In June our air conditioner broke down. I made some inroads during this 90+ degree weather by pointing out that the incandescent lights produce a lot of heat, and that turning them off helps to keep the house cooler. But when the A/C was fixed we slowly returned to our old "illuminated" ways.

Sara Jean wants to call our utility and have them install a street light in front our house. When I tell her I won't pay for it, she insists she'll pay for that herself!

If and when that happens, she won't have to listen to my complaints about the house lights anymore.........

I'll be moving to a place in the country where I can camp out in the back yard and look up and see a carpet of stars!

I've Been Mistaken

For the last couple years I've had regular correspondence with a female relative.
She is of the "Bush lied, people died" persuasion.

No sense going into how "Bush Lied"......that leads to a dead end, even for her, because all parties were deceived by our "faulty" intelligence about WMD's going into the war.

I originally thought SEVENTEEN U.N. RESOLUTIONS were more than enough justification for liberating Iraq.

But my correspondent has inadvertently opened my eyes to how the world could be improved if we would just cease our belligerent ways in Iraq and bring our soldiers home!

The world could then begin to move down the path of righteousness provided by the guidance of our Islamic brethren:

Stupid women like my relative would have to think twice about corresponding with superior thinking men like me!

Women would no longer be in the workplace, therefore freeing up jobs for men that need to provide food for their families.

The abortion problem would go away in an instant.........women that get pregnant outside marriage will be stoned to death. (Stones not too big as to kill too quickly, and not too small as to be ineffective!)

And Cindy Sheehan? HA!

She'll be first in line for stoning!

Why has it taken so long for me to see the error in my thinking?
It's obvious that most of the problems of the world would go away if we would just get out of Iraq and take up the tenets of "Shari'a" law!

So come on men! Take up the banner and join in........it's the resolution to most of our problems!

Out of Iraq!
No more aggression against our Muslim Brothers!

Support Iran in their quest for nuclear power!

March to the Mosque! A perfect world is just around the corner!

And Hillary for President?

Obviously impossible!

What a vision!


UPDATE,17AUG:
On re-reading, seems like a pretty harsh tone, and I considered deleting.
Then I decided I'd leave the post as written.

I believe Jane Fonda and John Kerry assisted in killing our troops in Viet Nam.
Cindy Sheehan and her like are killing our troops in Iraq. What a shame.....a woman in such pain is causing more mothers to suffer the same pain.

But most of these idiots that are supporting the "Freedom Fighters" in Iraq do so simply because of their extreme hate for George Bush!

If you are an insurgent in Baghdad, you well know our history: we have no guts for war.
All you have to do is bloody our nose often enough, and we'll soon pack our bags and run for home. We won't finish the job.

But this is truly a situation where we need to be careful what we wish for......
And it is EXTRAORDINARILY important for the rights of women of the world!

PFYSB

Another scene flight last night.........this one right at dusk.

A 16 year old female lost control of her car after dropping a wheel in a ditch, then rolled several times. She was ejected from the automobile, and in the process of being ejected, her left arm was de-gloved from the elbow to her wrist.
She also had a compound fracture of her left femur.

De-gloving means the skin on her left forearm was pulled from the muscle.
An interesting looking wound!

It takes a huge amount of force to break the femur!
That her femur was broken means her body was subjected to forces you and I don't even want to think about!
Considerable blood loss can accompany this injury, and of course, shock.

Now the question:

IF, she had her seatbelt fastened, how was she ejected from her car?

And the answer?
Come on now everybody..........all at once!


She DIDN'T have her belt fastened!

My title......PFYSB.......comes from a jingle that used to be played on public service ads. If you have heard them, you'll remember the music that went along with the words:

"P.F.Y.S.B.,............please fasten your seat belt...........Thank you!"

I'm continually amazed that folks don't use their seat belts today.
The most serious injuries we see in automobile accidents happen to people that are not wearing their seat belts.

Folks, you could do serious damage to the cash flow of all EMS businesses by doing these three things:

1. Fasten your seat belt.

2. Don't drive after drinking.

3. Don't smoke.

Knowing human nature, I think my job is secure for the foreseeable future.

Don't you?

A Suggestion

For some reason, when I check on "Pitchpull" on some computers, the sidebar containing Links, Archives, and my profile show up all the way at the bottom of the page.

I hope you are checking in on some of the other Blogs I recommend there........especially today.

Go to:

www.varifrank.com and read "The Call".

I will wish forever that I could put my thoughts on paper like that!

Judge Roberts.....the more you know........

Incontrovertible evidence he's not right for the job:


The Roberts kids are no strangers to controversy. Jack Roberts, a confirmed bachelor who enjoys dancing and thinks girls are "yucky", has the I.Q. of a four year-old boy and a rap sheet a mile long. In 2003, Jack was reprimanded by a superior court judge for vandalizing the walls of a private residence with Crayola crayons. Last summer, he stole several indigenous amphibians from a natural wetland, a crime against nature for which he has yet to be held accountable. His childlike demeanor and bizarre behavior have frustrated reporters for weeks. When pressed for details on his father's opinions concerning Roe V. Wade, it's not unusual for Jack to burst into giggles and spin around in circles until he falls down.
If Jack Roberts seems to revel in media attention, then his sister, Jane, shuns it. Living a life shrouded in mystery, Jane was rumored to be dating Tom Cruise - but it's widely suspected that the girl with the pageboy haircut "plays for the other team", if you know what I mean. While John Edwards has yet to officially acknowledge her as a lesbian, Jane is rarely seen without another woman at her side. Her dowdy style of dress and lack of frequent abortions have raised more than a few eyebrows. And like brother Jack, her mental instability is a thing of record. Prone to sudden emotional outburts and crying fits over trivialities, Jane is often seen talking to small plastic replicas of human babies, and her addiction to paste has been the talk of the tabloids.


The entire expose' is here:

http://blamebush.typepad.com

Warning: Don't drink liquids while reading, lest they find an alternate route out your nostrils!

I Support Nuclear Power

But that needs some explanation...

My father worked for a power company for forty years.
One of the most contentious discussions we ever had was about nuclear power.

Before he retired, he was a strong supporter of what he thought was a "safe, clean," power supply.

He was surprised when I mentioned the amount of time nuclear waste would be hazardous to life.

Got any idea?

I listened to a nuclear power proponent on a talk radio show once, and called in to ask him how long the waste would be lethal.
He artfully avoided answering the question better than Jimmy Carter being asked about the "misery index" when he was running for re-election!

Truth is, the waste will be hazardous to humans for something like 250,000 years.

That bears re-stating:
A QUARTER OF A MILLION YEARS!!

It presents a problem for moralists that will be in charge of nuclear waste sites in the future:
The history of mankind spans what, 75,000 years?
Written history covers a fraction of that...
How do we fashion a sign that will warn people of the future that they need to avoid these areas, when they may not speak anything that resembles English?

(One of the better suggestions was a sign with a skeleton, supine on the ground, with wavy lines emanating from the ground to signify a deadly problem there.)

When Dad retired, after studying the issue, he did a 180 degree turn on his support for nuclear power.

But here's how we can all say we support nuclear power:

Solar, wind, and other "clean" power sources are all driven by the sun... a HUGE nuclear fusion reactor!

The costs of energy, to include gasoline, and the environmental costs of burning fossil fuels like coal, are approaching a threshold that will make using alternative resources more economically feasible.

Let's pressure our elected Representatives to start paying more attention to conservation, and nuclear power...

FUSION...
provided by the sun!

The Blink of An Eye

If you've been reading a while, you know I love my job.
When we are called out, I am one of the most important people in the world to the people that need my services.
Time can be more valuable than gold..........

The call came in a little after 4 A.M. on a Saturday morning.
We were dispatched on a 5 minute flight to the scene of an accident: car Vs. fuel tanker.

The car was a Station Wagon. The driver was a man with his entire family on board.........wife and 8 kids. The family was on its' way to spend the day fishing with extended family at a lake located about 3 hours away.

Papa had apparently fallen asleep and didn't see the red light and the 5000 gallon tanker in the intersection. He had driven under the tanker, and before the truck driver could bring his rig to a stop, the rear wheels of the tanker had climbed the car and had Papa trapped inside. The accident ripped a hole in the tanker, and it was leaking kerosene all over the scene, including Papa.

By chance, the scene was adjacent to a company that sold steel in huge, heavy rolls, and they had a large forklift available. As we took off, our dispatch called and said the folks on the scene were asking if we wanted the forklift operator to lift the tanker off the car. My nurse vetoed that idea.....she wanted to assess the situation to insure they didn't do further harm to the patient.

I landed in the center of six lanes of highway, about 150' from the collision, the smell of kerosene so heavy in the early morning air it burned my eyes. Flight Nurse and Paramedic gathered their gear and quickly moved to the scene while I secured the controls and got out to make sure passersby didn't walk into the tail rotor of the Bell LongRanger we were flying at the time.

My Flight Nurse stepped over fishing gear spread all over the highway and climbed into the car with Papa as the other scene workers tried to redirect a stream of kerosene away from her so she could start an Intraveinous line on him.

The weight of the tanker had collapsed the firewall and dashboard of the car on our patient.

15 minutes on the scene and he was extricated. He was crushed from his waist to his upper thighs.

We loaded him and took off on the 5 minute flight to the Trauma Center. My crew had their hands full, so I made the call to the hospital to give them our ETA and a quick overview of what we were bringing them.

I landed and assisted taking the patient out of the helicopter.
As they wheeled him to the elevator they left behind a solid trail of blood.

Then I looked at the helicopter...........
Along the left side of the aircraft we had a new, 2-inch red stripe starting at the lower right corner of the litter door, arcing up the rear of the fuselage, then horizontally along the tail cone and through the tail rotor! All this in just 5 minutes flight time!

Blood is corrosive.........I found a hose and rinsed off as much of it as I could.

We then went back twice to the hospital closest to the accident scene to pick up kids that had been ejected from the car.

And although Papa was taken directly to the Operating Room from the helipad, his injuries and blood loss were too great.........he didn't make it.

The kids were seriously injured, but survived.

I've said this before and I'll say this again many times:
Life can be short. Don't sweat the small stuff!

Now That's Corn!

When we think about the helicopter, we generally think of it as a transportation device.

People, parts, mail, etc., are all moved by helicopters.
I'll blog about the different things I've done and have heard done in helicopters sometime in the future.

A few days ago I did something that was a first for me:
Pollinating Corn!

And the only thing I had to move with the helicopter?
Air!

Here's the idea:
I was flying for a company that produces and sells seed to farmers. They were developing new hybrid seeds to sell to their customers.

To do this, they plant the female "receiver" corn in rows of four, and then plant a row of the "male" corn. When the plants grow tassels, the "female" receivers have their tassels removed. This is a labor-intensive process........done by hand by migrant workers.

So here's the picture: in the center of nine rows of corn, you have a row of plants with tassels........four rows of de-tasselled females on either side of the male row with tassels intact.
My task was to hover over the male plants and shake the pollen from the tassels onto the silks of the female plants.

We had to wait until the morning dew had dried from the plants. Dew drops preclude the pollen from sticking to the silks that extend from the end of each ear. Each individual silk is attached to the ear of corn, and if it receives a grain of pollen, will grow a corn kernel. If the silk doesn't receive a pollen grain, no kernel will form.

We were told if we did our job properly, we could increase the number of kernels formed, and therefore the total bushel-per-acre yield of the fields, by up to 30%!
Well worth the cost of the helicopter!

By the time the dew was dried, the ambient temperature was 94 degrees F. Wind was straight out of the South at 8 knots.
The wind made the temperature more bearable, but was problematic for doing the work because most of the rows were planted North-South, making the turn at the South end of the fields a downwind turn.

We found that if I flew over the "male" row just on the flying side of translational lift.....about 15 knots.......literally dragging my skids through the tassels, I was shaking all the female plants on either side of the males.
This meant those females were all getting a solid dose of pollen from the center row.

Corn fields in this area are large.......some have 7-800 acres of corn. Rows can be more than a mile long! At the speed I was traveling, moving from the start of a row to the end seemed to take forever!

Full of fuel, the downwind turn was treachery......carelessly done, the machine could easily settle into the 6 feet tall corn, downwind, and cause who-knows-what kind of damage to the tail rotor and the machine in general!
We wanted to avoid this even if it meant losing money on the job!

At the end of the day we had flown over 683 acres.
It took 6.9 hours to do this work, so we averaged pretty close to 100 acres per hour.

Terry N. was faithful as always with fuel truck and cold refreshments.
Terry just got his commercial helo license. We are trying to bring him aboard slowly with different aspects of commercial work.
So he could learn the work, he flew about 2 hours of the 6.9 hours over the corn.

I flew 4.9 hours over the corn, and 2.8 roundtrip to the worksite, for a total in my logbook of 7.7 hours for the day!

7.7 hours at 100 degrees, doing work this stressful, equals an old helicopter pilot that has to be removed from the helicopter at the end of the day with a spatula!

Attention Getting

Nineteen followers of Islam board airplanes and fly them into buildings, killing themselves and thousands of innocent people.

We then see videos of joyous dancing and celebrating in Palestine.
Most everyone else in the world is horrified.

Or:

A single Buddhist Monk steps into a street in front of video cameras, douses himself with gasoline and strikes a match........then meditates as he is consumed by the flames.

I can't speak about how Palestinians reacted to this, but I know the rest of the world asked, with respect, "what would cause someone to do that?"

Which attention getting method earns more total support for their cause?

I think I know the answer.