Europe, The Prequel

This past February I received an e-mail from a fellow helicopter pilot and friend, asking if I was interested in a position opening up in his company.  I was semi-retired at that point, having left a great job with Mercy Air in October of 2013, although I was variously freelancing as an aviation safety and risk consultant and flying with Corporate Helicopters.  But I was intrigued, not because we were seeking a change necessarily, but because it offered a chance to return to my nautical roots (without the 6 month deployment with six thousand other people part),  and the position was for Europe, a place we both wanted to explore.

So after some discussion of the possibilities and a little bit of “what the hell”, I submitted my CV.

A month or so passed, and I received an e-mail indicating I had made the top ten (out of more than 80 that had applied).  A video interview ensued, and job interviews not being my strong suit I thought that was the end of it.  But several days later I was invited to London and then the Isle of Man for a face-to-face interview, and during that trip I was offered the position.  

I was a little stunned, at the end.  And for a period of time the reality of what I had signed up for sort of hit me, like buyer’s remorse—I wondered if Stewart and I were really up for it, and if we had trumped up the positives of a European adventure and hadn’t quire thought through what it would entail.    But in the end we came to the same conclusion, that this was the right decision, however unplanned and serendipitous it all came about, and we should buckle down and make it happen.

More than anything this change has been a philosophical one for me, as was my departure from Mercy Air.  Like (most) everyone else I struggle with the ultimate purpose of my life, and how one derives meaning from it, to the extent that one can.  But while I’m grappling with those questions, in the meantime it seems clear to me that I should, in the relatively brief time remaining of my life, experience as much as I can possibly experience, and to leave the comfort and security of what I know and try something new. 

I’m also going to say something potentially very sappy:  one of the few times I have spontaneously starting crying in a movie was during the first ten minutes of Up!, when the newly married husband and wife map out their life of adventure and excitement.  But their day to day busyness of life get in the way, and before they realize it they are too old to pursue their dreams and then, quietly, the wife passes quietly away.

 You truly only live once, and regret is the last thing you want to experience when there’s no time left to do anything about it. 

U.S. Navy, Circa 1993

So one of the things I "discovered" while in the Navy was Chrysanthemum Tea.  In Hong Kong, I believe, and it was quite addictive.  I had kept three cans of it as a souvenir, and as I was attempting (in vain) to organize our crawl space, I came upon them in one of my memento boxes.  

I drank all three, and had happy flashbacks to my tours of Kowloon.  Slightly more metallic than I remember, but after 20 years in a can what can you expect.  And it still had the pull tab opening, where the ring pull and tab come off entirely.  Ah, memories...!    

So 

Holiday Gift Part 1

Santa brought me the book below, that I have found quite enjoyable.  It consists of a series of short vignettes that portray the more unusual and surprising mechanisms of evolution.   For example, there are a group of 'false' fishes:  fishes because they look very much like what a layperson would quickly identify as a fish, and yet they are more closely related to a cow than a salmon.  Come to find out, some of these false fishes were transitional actors to life's eventual movement onto land, and their skeletons provide the telltale signs of changes that would be required to do so.  

There are also discussions of five fingers, of large vs. small size, and body armor.  Having just come from a trip to the Galapagos last year I found the explanation of the land tortoises's skeletal anatomy fascinating.  

In 2006 Richard Dawkins published a book called The Ancestor's Tale, that follows along similar lines but in far greater detail, and with enough scientific nomenclature to give you the distinct impression you're back in an intermediate college biology course.  Equally as fascinating, but intimidating at times and not as accessible as de Panafieu's effort.  

Thank you, Santa!  

Holiday Card Photo Explainer

The photo above was taken in Richmond, Kentucky, where I was born, and just to the south/southeast of Lexington where I spent most of my youth.  My Dad was an Area Director for the University of Kentucky Agriculture Department, my Mom an elementary school teacher.  Mom actually interrupted her career to take care of us kids, for the better part of ten years.  Next to me is Lori, my sister, who lives in the Ft. Worth area with husband and two kids (now grown),  and works as a nurse.  

 If I do say so myself I think I'm rockin' that overalls/jumpsuit outfit.  

This is Stewart and his sister Melody, aka Mel, holding their stockings and sporting some colorful socks (I'm guessing).  Brother Greg had not yet arrived on scene.    Mel had a varied background early on but eventually wound up as a renown, patent-toting engineer.  She is now retired and living with her wife in Florida.   

Burbank!

Brother Greg, sister-in-law Heidi, and niece Andi were in town last week, checking out Burbank and environs.  We met up with them at the Ghetty Museum (a must-see if you're in LA), and had a nice dinner afterwards.  Aren't we the cute group!  

(family explainer:  Greg is the younger brother of Stewart, and is married to Dr. Heidi Graham, both Army retirees.  They live in Alexandria, VA, with their angelic dog Sam.  Andrea, aka Andi, is Greg's daughter, a budding architect living in Kingston NY.)  

Beauty

“Water is the essence of wetness, and wetness is the essence of beauty.”

— Derek, Zoolander

(One of my favorite types of movies is slapstick, dating back to the movie Airplane! and continuing with such titles as Zoolander and Shaun of the Dead.  It appears to be a difficult genre, as it's done so badly so often, but when done right it is hilarious.)

Holiday Card Map Explainer

On the back of our holiday card is a marriage equality map from Wikipedia.  Despite a setback in my home Commonwealth of Kentucky, marriage equality advocates have nonetheless made surprising and unprecedented progress in 2014.  And since Stewart and I have been involved in both the marriage equality (and DADT repeal) movements, we thought it important to share.

It was not, on any level, motivated by shaudenfreude.  And I'm not even sure that's even possible, given the preponderance of the world map indicating a distinct lack marriage equality, and given Africa where imprisonment and at times even death for LGBT citizens have been incorporated into the legal code.  

To briefly summarize the colors, navy blue are states/countries with full marriage equality, mustard means marriage equality is in some form pending (in the U.S., usually the result of a favorable court ruling followed by a stay of the ruling), and light blue/periwinkle represents a 'less-than' recognition (e.g., domestic partnerships).  Interestingly, although all of Mexico is not navy blue, if you get married in those parts that are, then everywhere you go within the country it's recognized.   Sort of like Arkansas is for us right now.   

The map was current at the printing of our cards, with the last change being Finland, where marriage equality just passed the legislature.  Here's to 2015, and hopefully more progress.  

Merry Christmas, Maybe

The book I'm reading now is the 'Historicity of Jesus', by David Carrier.  It is quite a dense and lengthy tome, written from a hard-core historian's perspective, and I keep making the mistake of attempting to absorb its contents right before bed.  But it's one I should have read decades ago.

The term 'historicity' refers to the issue of whether Jesus of Nazareth actually existed as a person, or if he were mythological in nature.   I'm only halfway through the book, but I'm getting the distinct sense that the evidence for an actual, physical Jesus is quite slim.  The Gospels in the New Testament were all written many decades after Jesus' apparent death and resurrection (and all by unknown authors), and there are no recorded eyewitness accounts of Jesus' life--either in the Christian Bible or elsewhere.  Think about that:  not a single, documented eyewitness account of Jesus ever existing. 

 All that Christians have to go on, then, is the canonical statement that the words of Scripture were (divinely) revealed to their authors, even though it is widely accepted that those same texts have undergone significant redaction and alteration over the centuries.   And when that is all you have, without any sort or degree of independent corroboration,  one is hard pressed to distinguish between divinely inspired/revealed and simply made up.

The other disconcerting conclusion is that savior/resurrection myths appeared to be a small cottage industry back in the day, with numerous stories/myths/revelations each competing with one another for the hearts and minds (and money and power) of the people.  There are at least 15 such saviors--all predating Jesus of Nazareth--who strangely have nearly identical stories, down to their virgin births, an attempt to kill them when they are a baby, rising to power (or being called a king or king-like), meeting a mysterious death often involving crucifixion, his/her body then turns up missing, etc.   There are so many of them that historians have invented a formalized measurement for it, the 'Rank-Raglan hero-type'.  And within the savior cottage industry there is a subset of Christian sects, each with their own story of Jesus (of Nazareth), battling it out in the public sphere.  None of them survived, save for the one we know of now.  

Imagine living in the first or early second century CE, hearing of Jesus of Nazareth's death and resurrection, and thinking, "sheesh, another one?"  

What I also find interesting, layered on top of this, is how neat and clean Christianity looks now, two thousand years later, and how little most Christians know about its very un-neat and un-clean origins.  And quite possibly, all made up from pre-existing mythologies of the period.   

None of which, by the way, mars my expectation of Santa Claus coming next month.  Merry Christmas!  

leaf peeing and sundry things part 2

Whoops, sorry for the time gap, this is a continuation post of our New England trip in October.  

After Vermont we headed down to New York City, first stopping in Kingston to visit with Stewart's niece, Andi.  Andi is an architect working in a very architechy building and in a newly renovated architechy home (well done, Andi!).  While in Kingston we visited the "four corners", the only intersection in the U.S. whose four buildings predate the Revolutionary War.  We also visited Opus 40 just outside of Kingston, a jaw dropping lifetime art project made out of stone using only old-world quarry techniques.  

Then to New York City, to visit friend Peter Buotte.  We ate NY bagels for breakfast, with about a pound of cream cheese on them, spread by the guy behind the counter who does not have more than five seconds to stand there while you figure out what the hell you want.   We visited museums, the 9/11 Memorial, the High Line Park, the Statue of Liberty (my first time), and about a gazillion other places, all packed into three days.  Below is a photo of Stewart and Peter at a local German restaurant.  Good beer and sauerkraut.

After NYC, we attended Stewart's 45th Annual US Military Academy (USMA) (aka West Point) reunion.  I was the only male spouse there, and the only noticeably younger spouse there, too, lol (okay, I'm no spring chicken, granted, but I'm not 67 either).  But I was generally very well received, and we had a great time.   

Following West Point we traveled to Connecticut and Rhode Island, having lunch with Stewart's cousin George and his partner Jack, then dinner with Stewart's Cousin Steve, his wife Gloria, and his Aunt Mary.    Boston the next few days with gracious hosts Dan and Laura, during which we whirlwinded the historic downtown area and environs.  My favorites were the Harvard Natural History Museum, and the Boston Atheneum .  Both were marvelous.  

Airborne

I dutifully track my flight time hours, now more out of curiosity than anything else.  4,886 hours so far, quite low compared to Vietnam-era and younger "production" pilots, but not terrible given the kinds of flights and experiences I've had.  In any case it's not a gauge of happiness or satisfaction for me, as even a helicopter pilot will tell you that after eight hours of flying in one day, day after day, the fun can sort of wear off.  

Below are my flight statistics by type; virtually all of it in helicopters save for a sliver of Cessna 152 time that I flew before entering the Navy, and my military training in the T-34.   The Navy flight time is in blue (dark blue being twin-engine, light for single engine); my time flying helicopter air ambulance with Mercy Air in burnt umber (all twin engine time);  my other "for hire" civilian flying in brown (again, twin engine in dark brown); and finally in gray the flight time that I paid for myself--mostly training for certification, and a scant few just for fun, including flights with my Mamaw and Papaw.  

The aircraft* designations probably don't mean a great deal unless you are so inclined to follow such things, but it provides perspective (at least for me) about where I have spent my career, proportionately, and what I have done.   Back in '97 when I left the Navy, the circle would have been almost entirely blue; after my first seven years with Corporate Helicopters, perhaps a 60/40 split; and now, my military career represents just a portion of my career--a good thing, I think, although it was a very meaningful part of my life and one that I nostalgically miss.  

*If someone uses the term 'aircraft' it could, in FAA parlance, literally mean anything that flies.  Balloons, gliders, gyrocopters, anything.   The term 'rotary wing' could mean a helicopter or a gyrocopter.  

things i learned after six days in north and south carolina

1.  The first highway one encounters coming out of Charlotte is the Billy Graham Highway, and once on the Billy Graham Highway one immediately will see signs to the Billy Graham Library.   Normally that would make me instantly hate this State, as the "threat" of marriage equality during the last Presidential election cycle was the one issue that brought Graham out of the shadows, to rail against the LGBT community with full page ads in national newspapers.  But now that marriage equality is the law of the land in North (and South!) Carolina,  it makes me sort of happy, with just the slightest hint of schaudenfruede.  

2.  One should really drive the speed limit here, there are cops everywhere.  

3.  Google maps is not aware of where the North Carolina town I was driving through dispatches its two thousand school buses, all at the same time. 

4.  The politics of Ayn Rand seem to be a thing here, along with the politics of being victimized by the hordes of welfare leeches.   And the illegal Mexicans, taking white people's jobs.    When I note that the only reason the strawberries they're snacking on don't cost ten bucks a pint is because some hapless Mexican is picking them twelve hours a day, seven days a week for less than what a McDonald's cashier makes, they seem perplexed. 

5.  They make ground ambulances with a semi-truck front and rear cabin to match.  Impossibly huge.  

6.  With a thousand dollar (or so) investment, you can reload your own bullet shells at home.  Because "you don't know what kind of shape this country will be in, in 30 years."

7.  As a long time Southern California resident, I have to say--Charlotte traffic sucks. 

Outland

My Mom had kept this cartoon in my childhood mementos, and I admit I love everything about Opus and its later, more edgy creation Outland.  It has an artistic skill and preciseness to it, more than what most cartoons these days have, and a multi-layered narrative akin to Bugs Bunny shows that made both child and adult laugh, but for different reasons.  

30 years later I still find this one funny, although many will not even know who Quayle is.   I barely do.