Saturday, March 24, 2007

"Watch Out! You Might Get What You're After..

... Here's your ticket pack your bags... The destination is clear... Fight fire with fire... "
Talking Heads "Burning Down the House"

All systems set to fire at will. Headphone night. Volume, 40!!!

Next up, "Life During Wartime"
"... The sound of gunfire, off in the distance, I'm getting used to it now. No time for dancin' or lovey dovey. I aint go time for that now."

Can't find Jethro Tull... There are a couple of songs I've wanted to hear all day. Can't think what they are now. But, I still want to hear them.

JACK POT!!! Four Tull discs. Still can't remember one of the songs but, "Broadsword" is one of them...

"I see a dark stain,
on the horizon...
Bring me my Broadsword
and a clear understanding
Bring me my cross of gold
as a talisman..."

Tossed a little Uriah Heep in there too for "Stealin'"

It's a disc skipping to specific track kinda night.

"Heavy Horses move the land underneath..."
It's a Tull song about Clydesdale's actually.

I'm sick of being a stealthy Indian kinda pony.
My By-God call sign is "COMANCHE"!!!
The Comanche Nation Shield is friggin' tattooed on my shoulder!!!
It's time I acted like it.

It's time to break out of the reservation. AKA "Repair Stations".
It really is an appropriate analogy.

How do I...
It's like being a mechanic in a large dealership VS being a wrecker driver/ roving repairman.
In the dealership it's all politics and time. The more time you have there the better your connections thus the better jobs you get to do.

The less time and fewer connection you get days like this, "Well ya got three choices, you can work fuel tanks and stink like shit, you can do lubes and be nasty as shit, or you can polish exhaust stacks and ache like shit.

(Important Proviso here. Those were in fact my choices today. I enjoyed polishing stacks which I had not done before. There WEREN'T a lot of choices, if any, and my leadman did the fuel work. I not afraid of hard or nasty work.)

The wrecker driver arrives on the scene and never knows what he'll find. And he's gotta deal with it.

Repair Station VS Operations.

I spent 10 years as an operator. Field work son, field work. Lubes, fuel cells, engine changes and rigging and taxi and run-up, avionics and electrical (if I had to, I figured it out!) gear rigging, flight control, sheetmetal (minor), windshield changes, ...Damn it, I've done it.

The insidious thing about Repair Stations is if you aren't a Local Golden boy you don't get those jobs and your skills deteriorate. There's a LOT of stuff to be cognizant of and to remember. It's hard enough when you only do it occasionally. BUT, you are exercising the mind ALL of the time so it's a little easier to catch up.

When you don't do it for years... You're screwed.

Today, I remembered one particular day in Teguc. I had ALL FIVE U.S. Ambassadors to Central America on MY airplane.

Ever been on a first name basis with a United States Ambassador?

Ever been second in line off of the plane behind one. (When the freakin' upper aft wing bolt cover decided to stand up and salute during flight!?) He made one of those subtle but clear diplomatic gestures and said, "David." I said, "Sir." I made a new one and had it painted and installed before we left Soto Cano Airbase. He just grinned, diplomatically of course.

Ever been in the operational midst of an honest to God National Crisis (Hurricane Mitch), launching out the Ambassador and had him give you a message, hand you a number, "Call them at this number and tell them to go do this." "Yes Sir."

Ever flown a SAR?

Ever flown a SAR to Isle de Cisne not knowing if you were gonna bring home seven stranded sailors or seven, "On behalf of a grateful nation..."?

I am not bragging. Really. Just trying to make a point or two.

{"Gawd-amn it Daddy! You know I love you. But, You've got a helluva lot to learn about Rock and Roll!!!!!!!!!!..." Meatloaf}

I've got to get out of here. Out of the Repair Stations. Out of San Antonio for a while at least.

Out of the country. OCONUS. Back into the action.

YES! I still want to finish a degree.
YES! I want to write. Articles, Stories, Plays, Songs. OH hell yes songs!
YES! I want to get out of aviation.

BUT! For right this minute it's all I've got. Aviation. It's the only way I know to make a living.

I'm not living here. I'm not even really getting by. I force myself to get through one more day. To do things I have to to do to keep from going backwards. I will never get ahead here. Much less get out of the hole.

It's OCONUS or live outta the Dodge. I guess I have slept in that seat. It's not much different than the couch that I've been sleeping on but it's not really what I have in mind.

"I don't ask for much I only want trust but you know it don't come easy." Ringo Starr

Uriah Heep Live is up now. Not very deep on the song writing but it has a certain guttural connection. Gonna let it play.

I mentioned an admonition the other night. To learn to play guitar. Sometimes, admonitions are positive things. When BB and the Architect hit me with the same thing... Well, it's pretty clear.

In my defence, I have picked up the pen.

There have been others:
Write every day
Write what you know
Write for yourself
Write more

All good. Great even. They work!

I guess there is no real need to explain that I am in a melt down. Is there?

"Oh show me the way to the next whiskey bar. Oh , don't ask why. Oh, don't ask why." No Whiskey tonight but tomorrow will damn sure be tequila. Forewarned!

Whoa!!! This Uriah Heep some sounds a lot like something the Talking Heads would do. And, I think, it predates the Heads. Hmmmm. WHAT a freakin' drum solo!!!!!!!! Oh yeah. This gets a repeat!!!!

"Pull Up! Pull Up! Terrain, Terrain, Terrain!!!!"

No, that's not Heep, or Elton, or Zevon. It's the little voice in a pilots ear. I have seen the altimeter spin counter clockwise. I didn't like it then. I don't like it now. At about age seven I nosed a Cessna 172 over.

Damn! I like that solo... I don't know where it will rank in the annals of rock history but it's working at the moment!

I'm going to send an email to my Brotha by anotha Motha... The Plumber. He plays guitar and drums. Haven't heard the drums. BUT, he plays, I write...

Master Sargent! Pucker up and drag out the Trumpet.
Architect! Prepare to sing achapela (crap, spell check didn't fix that.) at Casbeers.

L.O. freakin'L!!!!!!!!!!! For those not used to shorthand. Laughing Out Freaking Loud!!! This apartment has a problem. The front door will SEEM to latch but if either of the other doors (the neighbors or the exterior door open it will sometimes pull my door open). I thought it was latched!!! I will spare you my state of dress but had my neighbors been in the foryer, it would have been an awkward moment!!!

We seem to have come about in a full circle. We are back to catharsis. I was in a pretty good mood when I left work. I spanner was thrown into the works. I went downhill pretty readily and spell check seems to have failed too.

I don't care.

I'm only going to get about four hours of sleep.

I don't care.

I've been a passenger on the Bi-Polar Express for some time now and I just took a header offa the train, rolled down the burm, checked my package, it's mostly intact.

What am I gonna do? AC/DC... Architect, sing it with me... (Great thing about it. He already knows what line is next!!!)

I'm gonna
Ride On
Ride On
Ride on

Thank you for bearing with me tonight!!!
"Goodnight Everybody! Thanks for coming out!!! Be sure to pick up the new album!"

How great is this? "Stealin'" just hit the top...

"Take me across the water
cause I need someplace to hide
I done the ranchers daughter
and I sure did hurt his pride

there's a hundred miles of desert lies
between his hide and mine
I don't need no food
or no water lord cause
I'm running out of time

Fighting, Killing
Wine and women
gonna put me to
an early grave

Running, hiding
loosing crying
With nothing
left to save

I stood on a ridge and
shunned religion
the world was mine

Stealin when I should ahve been buying...

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