An open letter to Hal...

and Bob and Matt n Angel and whoever else gets it. (I mean really gets it.)

I've kept my religious and spiritual cards close.

Whatever your 'hand', it's not something to fight or debate. It is what it is and there are no trump cards. No winning hands. Your royal flush doesnt beat anybody elses royal flush.

It's a personal thing and if we all held our cards and more importantly, held our tenets, this would be a better world.

Having spoken thusly, Hal, Mr Johnson, I too have worked with my long deceased Father. I have no other way to understand or explain it.

It doesn't happen often. Not nearly often enough. I can't conjure it. When it happens, it happens.

Sometimes...

I'm willing my fingers, hands, wrists and forearms into jelly. I'm lying on my face in the floor of a King Air. Pouring my right hand and a ratchet down one side of a seat track and my left hand and a wrench down the other side in order to touch "The Forbidden Sprocket" of a mechanical landing gear...

Or, trying to figure out the difference between the red lead and the black lead of a multimeter and wondering why an autopilot servo has so damned many wires...

AND, I feel it. I get it. I fix it.

It ain't me. I couldn't do it alone.

Cornered on a dead end dirt street. In a Teguc barrio. Out numbered.

I was not alone.

Sometimes, I can feel his hands on my shoulders.

Sometimes, he wants to shake some sense into me.

Unfortunately, that time, for him, passed thirty plus years ago.

WOW! Catharsis? Not the right feeling... Revelation? I don't want to go there. Realization.

NO! Recognition! That's it.

I need to learn to recognize why the unseen hands are on my shoulders and remember to ask myself,

"What is he trying to tell me?"

Thank you Mr. Johnson for setting me about thinking and thinking through.

(BTW... That should be the end of the Mister stuff!)

The Last Place On Earth You Want To Be.

I remember a few things about my Father, David E. Simpson.

Quite a few.

The one thing that really stands out in my mind. The thing that holds true, is his fervent, even reverent wish.

His one wish was for the FOUR of us Boys to be united. To be Friends. To have each other's backs, at all times.

It's OK if I put red ants down the (future) Master Sargent's pants. I'll take my chances. (He shouldn't have swiped my bicycle.)

It's OK if I give the Architect or the Preacher a bad time. (I'm the Eldest, it's my J-O-B!)

Don't you try it.

The last place on earth you want to be is between One of us and the other Three of us. (Make that Five of us.)

Can't we all just get along?!

Religion, politics, global warming...

I choose door number three!!!

I've been quietly lurking around some blogs and the comments associated with them. Religion and spirituality being the topic du jour. As you can imagine, it can be a little rancorous.

So seriously, I choose door number three.

Proviso Inserted Here:

I do not care to and will not get into a screaming match about the assignation of, "Fault!"

So, you have three choices here. (And the first two don't count.)
1) Natural
2) Man Made
3) What do we do about it

Dino Juice ain't gonna last forever. That impact alone will be devastating.

Here's a thought for Bob n Hal n I... Will aviation professionals be the first or last to suffer when the stuff (oil) gets rare? Both. Most of us will be among the first to go but a few well connected folks will hang in there to the last drop. (At reduced pay scales of course. With thousands qualified and out of work we will truly be a dime a dozen.)

Here's a thought I had while reading a newspaper article...

The story was about a local company that makes airplane parts. They are doing very well. They have spread their focus around such that when one sector slips another is doing well. Good for them. Well, one sector that is doing well is due TO the high price of oil.

HUH?

Duh!

Sheiks are buying and or modifying more of the ultimate gas guzzlers due to their good fortune of late.

ANYBODY getting the irony here?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

I don't intend to make this an apocalyptic discussion but a lyric just did a low pass over my head.

The Clash (I hope I don't mis-attribute the line cause that is one thing I WILL hear about) '... the King called out his jet fighters...' What happens when the King is the only one with GAS for his jet fighters?

Battery is getting low. Rain isn't letting up. I hope traffic has let up. I'm heading out.

Do expect more on this topic.

That's your SOGGY lotta nada for now.

I wonder what soylent green tastes like... Chicken I bet!!! LOL!!! I couldn't resist.

Gruene Hall

Echo November studies the craft in Gruene Hall.

It's one of the oldest dancehalls in Texas. A great place

to start!

One Picture, 1000 Words...

Why is it...

I can put a ball bearing on the front seat of the truck and drive for miles.

I can drive for miles and miles and miles and that bearing will not bounce.

That ball bearing will not quiver.

It will not tilt one single degree.

BUT!

If I drive 20 some odd miles into town and order a $10.00 sam'ich,
"To go please."

AND,

I pick up the ball bearing and put my piping hot sam'ich in the SAME spot on the front seat of the truck...

THE VERY first left turn I make that damn sam'ich will dive for the passenger side door like a hooker with my cash?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!!!

METAPHOR. Look it up... http://encyclopedia.thefreedictionary.com/

.....................

It has begun. I was bound to happen and today it did.

"Right now in San Antonio it FEELS like 98 degrees."

It was obvious, probably why I saw it coming. When all of this rain stops we are gonna get FRIED!

It will be morbid fun to watch the aquifer go back the other way. It is up to near record levels I guess.

The aquifer is our equivalent of your local Lake Hefner reservoir. It's our primary source of water.

.........................

What else....?

WHY is it these semi-pro local TV network news org's cannot get a single aviation story straight?!?!?!

The lack of follow up on accidents, while I loathe it, I can sort of understand it.

Two things chapped me this week.

Today Boeing announced that 787 Dreamliners will be coming to San Antonio for modifications. They will come right off of the assembly line and be worked here. GOOD DEAL!

But, the newsreader touted the composite skin of the Dreamliner as, "Rust free."

RUST Free!!??

OK, OK. You say tomato and I say CORROSION!!!

The other thing was a story about a poor S.O.B. that got sucked out the window of a (?) Piper twin turboprop. I (?) because I'm drawing a blank on any such animal... I bet I could Google it! Stand-by...

Hmmm... Even on the Piper Aircraft Inc website, I don't see a twin turboprop. Maybe someone took the 'Nava-jet' term to heart and got an STC. The thought makes my blood run cold.

Thing is, the local tabloid that ran the story kept showing King Airs!!! Stills and Video!

Facts, Schmacts. Who cares, we gotta dude that got sucked out the window of an aircraft.

Oh, the guy? He's OK. He managed to hang in there! (LOL! Sorry. I needed a brevity break.)

That's about enough for now. Small vent. It should keep the lid on for a little while longer.

I have something to write!!! I saw the most unexpected business card in the most unexpected place today... I'd better run with it.

See! They CAN play nice together!!!

Not these two...

THESE TWO!!!

Traditional Mexican Dancers...

The "T-Shirt of the Day Award"!!!

"Johnny and the Heartbreakers"

This guy put on a show. The cops seemed to enjoy it too!

They gave him some nice shiny bracelets!!!