holiday card explainer

Many of you have received our holiday card by now, and for those not aware Homer Simpson is the patriarch of the the Simpson family, of the TV show The Simpsons.  You may be a little more familiar with his son, Bart.   The show has been on for more than two decades, its longevity due in no small part to a group of clever writers who, much like those behind the original Bugs Bunny cartoons, wrote the script at two levels.  Kids enjoy the visual slapdash and cheap laughs, adults enjoy the witty and sometimes slightly sardonic commentary running in the background.   

And so goes are holiday card.  One one level it's funny, due to Homer's trademark ability to fill in what he doesn't know with wildly superfluous non-facts or personal opinion.  But on another level he represents the general religious American public who know surprisingly little about their beliefs, and who often have devoted little time thinking critically about why they believe at all. 

Growing up in a Southern Baptist church it was often postulated that belief in god was a very worthwhile hedge--if god existed then my limited investment praising and worshipping him paid off in a big way, with eternal life.  If there was no god, then I hadn't lost that much, save for the Sunday mornings spent listening to arcane sermons and my time singing with the choir, even though I am noticeably tone deaf. Homer alludes to this reasoning by saying he and his family were probably right, as if he wasn't really sure but was believing anyway as a way of self-insurance against the possibility of it actually being true.  

The Simpsons are a caricature, an almost absurd magnification, of American familial dysfunction; mostly not to deride but to celebrate it, and in our case to a make passing note that something as pivotal as religious belief might warrant a little more reflection during this holiday season.  

As a small footnote, there is a quote on the back of the card, which is made all the funnier if you are aware of Stewart's love of all things John Denver.  But that's another story.  


 

Retirement Part I

Okay, to catch everyone up.  Stewart is part time with Sullivan International (onesullivan.com), working in the same capacity as he did as a full time employee, but just not as much.  Generally speaking that is, because half the time it appears he is as busy as he ever was.   He has also retired from official duties with the Servicemembers Legal Defense Network (SLDN).  He sleeps more, smiles a little more, and is looking forward to traveling more.  He just joined a Toastmasters Club and has given quite a few award-winning speeches.  If  you are looking for Stewart on Facebook, LinkedIn or Twitter he is not there, although perhaps with continued encouragement he will be one day.  

I am retired from Air Methods, known locally as Mercy Air.  'Retired' as in that was to be my last full time job.  I had stayed on briefly to help out with pilot check rides in the venerable Bell 222, but that has come to a close.  So I now work part time for Corporate Helicopters of San Diego (corporatehelicopters.com), doing film/video work, ferry, charter, and race support.  I also work part time for San Diego Gas & Electric (SDG&E) as their Aviation Safety and Risk Advisor, in support of their newly-founded aviation department.  Aaaaaand, on a somewhat related note I am now the Secretary/Treasurer of the California Helicopter Utility Aviation Council (CHUAC), an aviation consortium of the three California Power Companies.  

As mentioned in our holiday letter, we will be in Lexington, KY on the 11th for holidays with the McNabbs, and we'll be in Salt Lake City the week of Christmas with the Bornhofts.  Innumerable photos to follow.  

 

The Annual-ish Dental Report

The dental report is turning out to be an unhappy affair.  Who knew that advancing age would first manifest itself in my mouth, with disappearing enamel, yellowing color, exposed nerves, and shifting teeth.  Just had bonding done a few weeks ago, replete with the omnipresent horse needle, still unbelievably large after all these years.  And the pneumatic drill, still emitting the exact same screeching, high-pitched phhheeeeet sound which is the siren song for life-altering pain just moments away.  

It was during my last cleaning appointment that I discovered one of the primary genetic defects I inherited.  Apparently a large number of nerve endings, instead of being routed to my brain (which no doubt would have boosted my academic prowess and have then gotten me into Yale or Berkeley) were instead rerouted to my teeth, where many of them now sit exposed and await to be awakened by the prick of a dental pick.  

Stewart is fairing a little better, although he now in the tooth replacement phase of life.  

Just depressing all around.  

 

 

Campo Mosqueda

Sunrise at Campo Mosqueda, near the mouth of the Colorado River where it feeds into the Sea of Cortez.  I had just finished a film shoot with National Geographic, which was documenting the river's history and uncertain future.  As with nearly everything that happens in Mexico the day was unscripted and hectic:  impromptu formation flights, surprise passenger transports with kayak paddle oars, and weather in the mountains.  But beautiful, as always.  

Air Methods, Farewell

On October 1st I left full time employment with Air Methods, and slipped into the realm of the lifestyle careerist.  Not fired.  Not disgruntled.  Not downsized.  Just hung up my helmet and bid farewell.  

Which sounds crazy, of course.  Crazy because semi-retirement at the age of 46 is not something one is expected to contemplate or even consider contemplating, which is exactly what I was doing (not contemplating it) until it arrived on my doorstep and rang the bell. Several times.  

The transition was undeniably painful.  When faced with the choice between doing something you love, vs. the chance to experience and do other things with your life, it's a choice between the day-to-day practicality of a job (a great one, in my case) and the existential unknown.  The palpable vs. the theoretical.  

But I don't want to wax poetic about it.  I am happy with the decision, and I look forward to whatever it is we come up with for our future, as long as it doesn't involve shopping malls on Black Friday.   

 

Hudson

 

This photo  is of the helipad at the U.S. Military Academy, or West Point, looking north up the Hudson River.  It represents the juxtaposition of Stewart's life and career, much of it spent at the Academy, and mine as a helicopter pilot.  

The photo was taken during our trip there earlier this year.  

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Die, Rabbit. Plus Dallas, Salt Lake and Seattle

This afternoon I finally dedicated the time to apply repellent to our yard which, over the course of the past several months, has been quietly and systematically decimated by a colony of rabbits.  On some level I can appreciate that the rabbits might not fully comprehend the devastation they are wreaking on our lawn.  But at the same time I can't help but suspect an underlying tone of vindictiveness, as while they lay waste to our grass they are simultaneously defecating virtually everything they eat, in the form of thousands of little pellets, that cover the barren dirt they leave behind.  

For their sake I hope the repellent works, because next  up are traps.  Philosophically I am very much opposed to killing wildlife, but like the ill-fated ground squirrels that came and died before them, these rabbits have crossed the line and must pay.  ​

The repellent, by the way, smells strongly of putrid eggs with secondary notes of stale vomit and a hint of garlic that appears after the initial wave of nausea subsides.  The few flies that we have in San Diego immediately took notice of the spraying, and began circling my head in earnest shortly after I commenced the application process. 

​Anyhoo.

​A few weeks ago I completed a second helicopter cross country, this time from Dallas to California.  I was there when the tornadoes touched down just south of the city, and a day before they hit in Oklahoma.  It was a solo trip, as Stewart was in Salt Lake helping in the renovation of nephew Stephen Bornhoft's first home, along with his brother Greg.  Then last weekend we flew to Seattle for Matthew and Ben's wedding in the SODO district.  It was beautiful, and we were grateful to have been a part of it.  Below is a picture taken at the venue, note the jackalope head mounted on the far wall with a semi-automatic rifle carved into his antlers.  And so went the evening.  

​Art and (Colonel) Tom, Stephen and (Colonel) Stewart, (General) Tammy and Tracey

​Art and (Colonel) Tom, Stephen and (Colonel) Stewart, (General) Tammy and Tracey

May Already Part 2

Okay, I knew I forgot one big trip off the previous post.  

I ferried a helicopter from Pittsburgh to Thermal California (just east of Palm Springs) several weeks ago.  A little over 16 hours of flight time, just under 1,200 gallons of fuel consumed, and 1,800 nautical miles covered.  Below is my flight plan; a little bit erratic around Kansas, due to weather, and several brief diversions to look at opportune areas of interest, all legitimate of course.  The best part is that Stewart was able to accompany me from St. Louis on, and the second-best part was being able to see Mark, Chris, and Sam at my fuel stop in Columbus.  

This was one of those epic trips, in that is was a coast-to-coast view of the U.S. from a thousand feet above the ground--just beautiful, if not slightly flat around Oklahoma. ​

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