Day 11 - An Offer I Couldn't Refuse

That's right friends, the theme for tonight's post is the great American classic film, The Godfather. It is the movie that I chose to stick in the DVD player tonight to break the evening silence of the airport, and that's what we'll use as a backdrop for tonight's entry. I might even throw in a few references to the movie, who knows? So for the duration of this post, please imagine Italian music playing in your mind's ear. Thank you, and enjoy the blog.

More miserable weather, more simulator time. The good news is that one of the fine people that I've met at the airport happens to be a kind, older fellow named Edwin; "Ed" colloquially. I refer to Ed as older merely because he has gray hair, but that's about the only thing that betrays his true age. He's got a firecracker personality, and is an outstanding pilot. He should be, after all, he is a retired Gulfstream jet captain, and actually trained NASA pilots. Yeah. He rocks.

Today, Ed did, in fact, make me an offer I couldn't refuse: to fly with him to McMinnville and back. Ed makes frequent trips there for various reasons, and today was my lucky day. I was honored and grateful that he invited me along on his flight to McMinnville, on the day of his flight to McMinnville. My first order of business was to contact the family and advise them that I would be coming in briefly for a quick turnaround, because a man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.

Shortly after 1 in the afternoon we were underway; Ed in the left seat, me in the right. It's very strange to be in the right seat after you've flown in the left for so long. It's amazing how much difference a few inches makes. How do people drive cars like that, anyway? It doesn't make sense. At any rate, I didn't care. I was flying. What more could I ask for?

It was a little bumpy, but all in all a great flight. The south really is a beautiful place to fly. The scenery is amazing. Anyway, we made quick time to McVegas thanks to a generous tailwind (it would become our enemy on the way home). It was refreshing to see the old homestead from the air. Our route of flight took us right over several nostalgic points, including one of my old stations from my EMS days, and our downwind leg took us right over my house! After landing we were able to see the folks for a while, and they got to meet Ed. After a quick turnaround, we were Bama-bound again. On the way back, we flew over Huntsville (see the photo at right) and the Marshall Space Flight Center. That's the point where I learned about Ed's days training NASA pilots to fly the Gulfstream, and some of his other exploits. It's really amazing to me that I have met some of the people that I have at this airport. It doesn't make any difference to me what a man does for a living, you understand, but the collective list of accomplishments of some of the people on this field is really amazing. And like Ed did today, they have all gone way above and beyond the call of duty to be pleasant, friendly, and helpful to me. It's like they have a personal stake in the success of a young pilot, and do everything they can to help me. I hope I can return the favor one day.
The even better news is that I'm going to get to go home for the weekend! The weather is not all expected to cooperate with what we need to accomplish, so I'm gonna get to go home and visit! I'm really really looking forward to it. Seeing Warren County again today reignited the homesick spark, so after we finish up our day tomorrow I'm headed north! I'll keep you all updated, naturally, and maybe I'll even get to see some of you.
Oh, and as a side note, I'm initiating a little contest to see if you can figure out how many Godfather quotes/allusions I made within this post (the title does not count). I'm trying to encourage more comment posts since some of you are beginning to slip! Slackers!!! We'll figure out some sort of prize or recognition for the winner. No purchase necessary to win, void where prohibited. Good luck to all who attempt!


And may your first child be a masculine child.

Joey

Day 10 - Magnetos and Mist

Partly cloudy. Twenty percent chance of rain. High temperature - 60 degrees.
Yeah right.
I cursed whoever the Mongoloid was that transcribed that weather forecast. Up underneath the wing of the Beechcraft Baron that I was helping to tie down, it was neither partly cloudy, a warm 60 degrees, nor raining only twenty percent. I shivered as liquid streamed freely down the trailing edge of the wing, and thousands of tiny droplets misted me with relentless fury. Water poured out of the rope I was using to tie the airplane to the ground, dampening my pants and pull-over sweater. I shoulda been a meterologist.
Needless to say, no flying was done today as the rating I'm working toward is performed under Visual Flight Rules (VFR). The simulator flight would be my only conquest for the day, and I was pleased with my own performance. Still far from seemless, but within the parameters for a passing grade on a checkride according to my sensei. You know what they call the guy that finishes dead last at medical school, don't ya?
After a very gratifying experience in the sim, Jeff decided that it was time for lunch. I agreed. He had to FedEx a package anyway, so we decided to treat ourselves and eat out today. Chick-Fil-A it was, so we decided that we would patronize the one inside the town's indoor shopping mall. I volunteered to drive. It was Jeff's first ride in the blessed Blue Goose, and when he saw the siren and light control panel it was all over. Thus, we traveled across the airport tarmac running full emergency traffic at a whopping 20 miles per hour. Jeff gleefully pressed each button and changed the siren tones at random, so much so that it sounded like my car was perhaps having a seizure. When all that was out of his system, we left the airport gates and set off on our mission. I was extremely excited as this would be a great opportunity for me to check out the local scenery, as well as the inhabitants of said scenery. Particularly those inhabitants who happen to be female in persuasion.... hehehehehe :-) But it was not to be. Disappointment was the word of the day. To call the mall a "mall" is truly a stretch. And as for the female population? These are the procreating-est bunch of people I've ever seen. What few targets of opportunity that were visible each came equipped with a wedding ring and a whole passel of kids in tow. Very upsetting.
But the day was not all bad. Not at all. I was extremely fortunate that Dennis (the mechanic) allowed me to observe a magneto replacement on an aircraft engine. He's a very, very nice man, and he took the time to explain to me the function of the device and some other things while he had the cowling off of the engine. I've gotten to where I really look forward to Dennis getting to work, not only because he's genuinely fun to be around, but he's also extremely knowledgeable about aircraft and will take the time to teach you. In Atlanta, pilots were not allowed in the maintenance hangar, or to even speak to the maintenance staff (seriously), so it's a real treat for him to take time with me. He likes to pick on pilots (completely good-natured picking, of course), and I like to let him, so it works out great for the both of us.
After my maintenance lesson for the day, I returned to my bungelow. I decided that it was quiet in here. Too quiet. I needed a TV. There was a very small one in the living room, where I've been spending most of my time, but it was incompatible with the DVD player provided, no cable service is provided, and the TV itself appeared to have possibly come over on the Mayflower, that part's still under investigation. Hmmm.... I could not settle for a small, antequated television and nothing to display on it. Muffy, that would be beneath us. A quick search of the dwelling unearthed a nice 27" flat screen Sanyo that was definitely better suited to a man of my stature. Eureka! A dozen or so miserable steps of lugging the hernia-factory into the living room, one trip to the Wal-Mart for necessary components, a few wires here, an electrical plug there, and BAMMM!!! We're in business. I love it.
All in all, a pretty successful day I do believe! I'm not sure what the weather will be tommorow, and right now Mother Nature is holding all the cards, so we'll just have to play it by ear. I've been able to put some of my fears out of my mind in the interim. I'm trying to convince myself that I have plenty of other things to worry about, so it would be much better focus strictly on the things that I can change.

Heh. So ends theory.


See y'all tommorow.

Joey

Day 9 - Back In The Saddle

It kinda sounded like a riding lawn mower, only faster. A really really mad Murray. Basically just a loud groaning noise, with a hint of mechanical rhythm to it. The tachometer needles for each engine came to a rest on 2000 rpm and I paused momentarily from advancing the throttle levers, allowing the engine readings to stabilize. There was still plenty of power left. We'd get to the rest of it in a second.
"Four green left and right," I announced, indicating that all critical a engine instruments were producing acceptable readings. I felt so different from yesterday. Somewhat more confident, even maybe a little excited. I had a better outlook today. On the trip down the taxiway, I had time to think. What's wrong with me? In the grand scheme of things, an airplane is an airplane is an airplane. Sure there's a learning curve, but I maybe can do this. Just fly the thing. It seemed like sound logic, but everything is relative. The thing still had wings, but it moved a lot faster, was a lot heavier, and had a lot more going on. More that could kill me. But I shouldn't be scared of it. Respect it? Yes. Fear it? No. I figured that I had a 50/50 shot; I'd either succeed or I wouldn't. But there was only one way to find out. I allowed one corner of my mouth to turn upward in a half smirk, half smile. Let's do it.
I relaxed my feet, releasing the toe brakes that held the two Lycomings at bay. Simultaneously, my right hand advanced the throttle levers all the way to the stop. The engines roared, exponentially louder than before, and the airplane lunged forward. Here we go.
"Airspeed alive."
The airplane bumped and shuddered as it thundered down the runway, and acceleration pressed me firmly against my seat.
"Watch your centerline," was the call from the right seat. "Good." My feet made constant corrections in order to keep it straight, the nose of the airplane chasing the white painted stripes that now passed underneath us with ever increasing fury. Holy crap this thing's fast. Well, at least compared to what I'm used to it's fast. I glanced down at the panel in front of me every so often, watching the airspeed needle climb until finally I eased back on the yoke. And it's heavy, too. The nose pitched up, and we were gone. An angry T-tailed bumble bee was headed for the sky.
"Positive rate, gear up."
A slight thud followed mechanical clanking and whirring noises. That meant that the landing gear had been retracted, and the three green indicator lights disappeared. The airplane rocked a bit as we passed through a few bumpy spots, and I gradually moved the yoke to initiate a turn northbound. I looked down at the ground, now passing under my left window. Heh. I'm flying this thing.
And not only did I fly it, but I landed it. Three times even. Today's flight did wonders for my confidence. While not fully repaired, it has at least been bandaged. I was able to successfully fly the airplane to a landing on three separate occassions, and that helped tremendously. I still have a LOOOONG way to go, but that solid THUMP of the main gear touching the asphalt was the most gratifying feeling I could have asked for. It really felt great.

The view from my seat

Following what I considered to be a successful flight, I did some more sim work. My maneuvers still need lots of help before checkride time, but it's getting better. For various reasons, we were able to knock off early. I went back to my penthouse to do a little studying. I still have the place all to myself. That, combined with the geographic situation, makes it very quiet and isolated here. As previously stated, I live inside the confines of the airport fence. When the sun goes down, I'm the only human for at least a half mile in all directions; much more than that in some directions. And it's amazing just how far your mind will wander when you're lonely. I began to worry again about the future. Even though I'm gaining confidence in myself and my flying, I began to wonder what will happen to me even if I do survive this course. Bleak job prospects. Fears of failure. Fears of being alone. Gaining more flight time. Subsisting until the airlines do start hiring again. Did I make the right choice? Should I do something else? Will I be happy flying airplanes for the rest of my life? Will I ever even make it that point? There are so many unknown variables, and so many things that I thought about in that short span of time. It's truly an emotional rollercoaster. A reality check follows every single moment of levity that I have here.

I turned to the only friend I have with me here after hours (besides El Diablo); my laptop/DVD player. I watched Cast Away. It's truly a wonderful movie, and you should watch it if you have not already. In addition to a great theme and plot, it has several scenes of FedEx aviation in action, and that definitely cheered me up. But there's one particular scene in the movie that I wanted to see. I knew the line by heart, but I wanted to hear it anyway. It sorta sums up a great resolve towards all the doubts I'm having about myself, my career choice, and my future. I don't know what the answer to any of those questions is, at this point. I have no clue. But I think Tom Hanks said it best:

"And I know what I have to do now. I gotta keep breathing. Because tomorrow the sun will rise. Who knows what the tide could bring?"

Amen, Tom. Amen.

Joey

Day 8 - Kitty Hawk All Over Again

That's right friends, today was the first flight.
The day began with a little systems and physics review, and I was also able to meet the Designated Pilot Examiner with whom I'll be flying (the guy who decides whether I'm a pilot or not). He seems to be a super nice guy and I'm looking forward to getting to know him. It certainly doesn't hurt that he holds my dream title: a FedEx widebody Captain. Can you say, hero worship? When he stuck his hand out to shake mine, the skies parted, the light shone down, and the angels sang. It was great.
After lunch, it was time to fish or cut bait. We mounted our winged chariot and headed for the skies. Thankfully my instructor made the first takeoff, because when two 180 hp engines roared with me in the left seat for the first time, I became instantly mortified. As we lifted off and climbed through 500 feet, I took over. It was considerably turbulent and I have no trouble admitting that I was scared to death. I'd have probably tried to get out and walk back to the airport were it not for the fact that the door is on the right side of the aircraft.
I learned a few valuable lessons. Lesson 1: this airplane is a whole new ballgame, and not nearly as forgiving and doscile as what I have been flying for the last six years. Lesson 2: I need LOTS more sim practice because my maneuvers were horrible (I blame a small part of that on the bumpy conditions that contributed to the pre-existing first-time jitters. Right seat: "Ok, pull it back til you hear the stall horn." Left seat: "NO!"). Lesson 3: Never admit that you're worried, because the guy that's with you might admit that he's worried too, and that's not gonna help your feel-goods one bit. Nope.
I got out of the airplane feeling pretty down about myself. I didn't expect to master it, but I didn't expect to do that horrifically either. I felt defeated (And glad to be on the ground). I've been flying since I was 16 years old; I'm not an expert by any means, but I'm not supposed to be scared that easily either. I wandered over to the hangar to talk to the mechanic, Dennis, who I see as the proverbial wise old man of the airport. The Alabama Yoda. He's been in aviation for nearly four decades (that I know of), and is a super great guy. He's one of those people that you can't help but enjoy being around. He asked me how it went, and I told him how I felt. Here's what he said:
"It doesn't take any particularly special kind of human to fly an airplane. Really it doesn't. You can teach anyone to simply fly the thing. Besides, it was only your first flight in a multi. The things that make a good pilot go way beyond just how well a person moves a yoke. That part comes with time and experience. The rest is a mindset and intelligence that you either have, or you don't. I've been around lots of pilots over the years, and I ain't run you off yet. I figured out a long time ago that the easiest way to get killed in an airplane is to be in a hurry."
I came away feeling somewhat better. I felt encouraged, and I realized that Dennis was right. I needed to give it more time, and learn not to be discouraged. In the grand scheme of things, I am barely a pilot. A pilot I am nonetheless, but there are people at this airport that have been flying twice as long as I've been on the earth (or longer). I can't expect to master things immediately. I cannot describe to you the feeling that it creates to know that you are up in the air and you have to get yourself back down safely. You and only you. No one else on earth can help you. It's nothing like driving a car. I've walked into burning buildings, I've dangled off bridges, repelled off of cliffs, bungee jumped; basically anything stupid that you can imagine. Nothing compares to the awesome and shear terrifying feeling of responsibility for your own existence as flying an airplane. I'm gonna get scared sometimes, it's natural. I am not going to be able to change that. I am, however, gonna have to get back on the horse tommorow and go at it again.

But then again, maybe a little fear is a good thing. Keeps ya honest.



Until tommorow...

Joey

In A Previous Life... - EMS Retirement

Ok, so I know I said that I wasn't going to update today, and this is somewhat true. I'm not going to offer an account of my activities today, instead I'm going to reflect back a few weeks on the retirement party that was given for me at work. It is my sincere effort to never forget where I came from, and to always remember the people that have meant so much to me along the way. My time in EMS and the fire service was one of the most meaningful experiences of my life, and it became sort of my second love. As such, I plan to strive to continue my involvement, if only in a part-time capacity after my career goals are well under way. More importantly, my resolution is to never forget what it meant to me to be able to involve myself with this activity and these people.

Squirrels Gone Wild

February 12th was my last shift with Warren County EMS-Rescue prior to taking leave to attend what I've come to refer to as "Big Boy Pilot School." I served as an EMT-IV, Rescue Technician, Web Administrator, floor sweeper, self-appointed morale officer, resident prankster, and in various other capacities for more than two years, and they were some of the most enjoyable times in my life.

To celebrate my departure (take that as you will), employees of the service, specifically Curtis and Christie Triplett, were kind enough to organize a retirement party of sorts for me. I had no idea the magnitude of the gathering which had been planned, and was deeply moved by the number of people that came in droves to offer their well-wishes. It was a deepy emotional day for me, one which I will never forget. To arrive at the station and see a parking lot overflowing with vehicles moved me beyond words. Representatives of Warren County EMS-Rescue, the McMinnville Fire Department, the Centertown Fire Department (of which I am a proud member), and River Park Hospital all gathered to say goodbye and present me with some really great retirement gifts. These gifts, and to a greater extent, the presence of these great people, each meant the world to me. My gifts have all accompanied me on my journey (One is a spectacular rooster, courtesy of Barry and Tonya. I've named him El Diablo, you'll all meet him soon). These items, coupled with memories of my friends, have been instrumental in getting me through some tough times over the last week. Aside from my difficulties in school and the inherent homesickness, I also lived right next to a huge hospital in Atlanta. They had NIIIICE fire trucks and ambulances; my squirrel tail fluffed up scores of time each day. (For those of you that don't know, the term "squirrel" is used to refer to someone who greatly enjoys EMS and firefighting; people like me that wear pagers, have flashing lights in every corner of their car, with radios and jumpbags and sirens and defibrillators and helmets and turnout gear and lions and tigers and bears, oh my. This fitting description, and my status as an aviator, led to my becoming Rocky, the name you see following my posts. Yes I miss it. Shut up.)

Annnnnyway, now that my situation has improved greatly, I wanted to take this time to offer a special thanks to the dozens of folks who came, those who were unable to come, and those that have helped to make my time in emergency services enjoyable and memorable. I love y'all like family, and I miss you deeply. I carry each of you with me every day (Which is why I harped on several of you to lose weight).

And tommorow, back to our regularly scheduled program.

Joey

Day 6 - Weekend Update

Not much to report today. Things are still going great in the fine, outstanding state of Alabama (Outstanding, sir!). The day began with a little ground training and some sim time, with a little greasy breakfast and airport fun mixed in. Jeff (my instructor/manager), Dennis (the mechanic), and I stood out on the ramp and graded guys on their crosswind landings. They never knew, nor cared, that we had developed and implemented our own grading scale in response to their valiant battles against the 18 knot crosswind, but it made great entertainment for us. I'm really feeling good about my temporary home. I'm developing more and more confidence as time passes that I made the right decision, and that my goal is gradually (if painfully) easing its way back toward the realm of possibility.
I have some downtime tommorow, and the folks have come to visit, so I doubt that an update will be an order. We're gonna go explore Birmingham for a while before I have to go back and stick my nose in a book. I've still yet to fly, but I'm hoping that Monday will be the day, and an update will naturally follow. Until then, I want to leave you all with this little gem of a video that I found on youtube. Obviously I did not produce, star, direct, cast, oversee, or in any way otherwise participate in the creation of this film, but I like to watch it once in a while when I need a little inspiration. I think you'll understand what I mean. Hope y'all enjoy it.





Git er dun
Joey

Day 5 - Sweet Home Alabama

So I had a really bad night last night. The worst day/night yet, in fact. I finally had all I could take. After a few events that I'll not discuss in public forum, I decided that I was done. I made the decision to quit. I didn't know what to do, but I knew this wasn't it. I drove to my apartment, packed my things, got in the car, and I left. On my way out of the gate at the apartment complex, I dialed the training manager to advise him of my decision and turn in my things, but I got his voicemail. I didn't know what to do. Now I couldn't leave, but I was so miserable, mad, and generally distraught that I couldn't stay. So I drove to a hotel and rented a room to calm down and try to relax. It was a deeply miserable night for me. I felt lost and trapped, all at the same time. As usual, I didn't sleep well at all, and by 5 am I had become literally, physically sick over the predicament in which I found myself. I was miserable in my current situation and I knew I could not, and would not, stay. I didn't want to quit, but I knew that I had to do something. I wanted to get out of where I was, because if I stayed I would be neither happy nor successful. Leaving was the only logical course of action. But a question loomed beyond that: What next? After I quit, where would I go from there? After making a few phone calls and talking to a few people, a third option presented itself: a facility transfer. For all I knew it would be just as bad or worse somewhere else. It didn't sound like much of a grand solution, but I decided that before I quit completely, I would give myself one more shot at redemption. I agreed to try it.


With nothing really except blind faith and hope, I fired up the mighty Blue Goose and headed west in search of the promised land. Crossing the Alabama state line almost felt like a homecoming for me in a way. A sense of relief and peace overcame me when I saw the sign, and following my arrival here, that feeling has thus far been largely justified. Suffice it to say, I once again have a reason to believe. I'm the only pilot assigned to the instructor here, the housing situation is great (I have my own room now and the housing is located inside the airport fence), and it's a small country town. I look out my window and see nothing but the runway and trees. It's quiet and peaceful here, much smaller and friendlier, and the people are terrific! This is truly a little gold mine of an airport. I've already met some amazingly successful and, obviously knowledgeable and talented, aviation professionals right here in the middle of nowhere! The atmosphere seems to be much better suited to my personality and learning style. I'm beginning to actually regain the hope that maybe I can do this. I was beginning to question whether or not this was what I even wanted to do. I had nearly convinced myself that I wasn't, and to give up altogether. But I honestly can't think of anything else to replace this career choice with. Trust me, I tried. And now I have that prospect back in my life, as well as the hope that aviation might actually become fun again.

I arrived at about 1 o'clock this afternoon and have had a great time so far! First order of business: indoctrination into the delightful good ol' boy network that is gloriously typical of the rural south. I received a tour of the entire airport and met the aforementioned folks. Behind each hangar door lay more amazing nuggets of aviation, and more wonderful people. Following the walking tour, I was showed to my housing. Oh, and as a side note, to say that I was shown to my housing is kind of erroneous considering that you can't really miss it; it is part of the cluster of hangars and buildings inside the airport grounds. I can literally throw a rock and hit half of the buildings on the property. I also was fortunate enough to ride in the crew car! I realize that this doesn't seem like a big deal, but you will understand when you see a picture of this car. It's RIGHT up my alley.

Continuing with the good news, I actually found myself hungry today and ate a full meal for the first time in nearly a week, and I'm looking forward to having my first full night of sleep in an equivalent amount of time! I also went to the grocery store with my new manager (GREAT guy) and was even able to make a little sweet tea without fire suppression being required. I'm still a little homesick, especially in the evenings, and the unknown future still scares me. However, I can't express in words how much better I already feel. To use the term exponential would be an understatement. The social and flight environments are so different here, and I think I'm gonna like it. I'm not built for big city livin', or a voodoo woman named Phyllis.

So with all of that said, I'm feeling much more hopeful about my situation. I thank each and every one of you for your continued support. I 'preciate y'all's interest. In the meantime, I'm gonna try to keep pressing forward. Tommorow I may actually get to fly for the first time, and I'll probably end up back in the sim. Further updates and progress reports will be forthcoming. Great weekend to all.


Shalom
Joey

Day 3 - A Rainy Night In Georgia

"Hoverin' by my suitcase, tryin' to find a warm place to spend the night..." Well the suitcase is really a flight bag, but close enough. A great song, either way. It's been wet and miserable most of the day, and that doesn't just apply to the weather.
I've spent much of the day trying to figure out what to do. I'm terribly concerned about the future, and should have been so long before now. I find myself in a situation that I do not enjoy, with a goal that seems more and more out of reach with each passing day. I have little faith in the educational environment here, as we have already covered. Once again, we wasted much of the day. Lewis and I reported to the airport as ordered, long before any effort took place to teach us anything. Efforts were finally underway at about 3 pm, with a rather informative lecture on the specific characteristics of multi-engine aircraft. Fortunately (or unfortunately, however you want to look at it), the staff's attention was brought to the fact that Lewis and I are being "neglected." As a result of this, a tremendous amount of self-study was assigned to us. This might not be an issue, were it not for the fact that we were kept at the airport until nearly 10 pm with no supper break. We did, at least, get a little sim time again tonight. Unfortunately, the gentleman that was granted unto us by spinning the Wheel of Instructors was terribly crass and unpleasant. Amazingly, I was inclined to be terribly crass and unpleasant in return. Go figure.
We've still yet to fly, and the checkride still looms. The flight that we had anticipated tommorow has been cancelled. This is due to the fact that no one is available to fly with us. The person who had been working with us intermittently in addition to his own primary duties, will be absent for the remainder of the week, and our primary instructor will be absent during the weekend. They are, however, going to try to get other instructors to work with us when they're not busy with their own students. How considerate. Checkrides aside, I'm terribly concerned by the pace and lack of substance involved here. I feel as if we are being made into fast-food pilots; rapidly and haphazardly prepared with questionable quality. Equally troubling to me is what the future holds. Regardless of whether or not I choose to stay this course or pick an alternate one, one simple question remains: Now what??? The airlines aren't hiring, pilot jobs aren't falling from the sky, and I really want to know what happens to me then? Viva la soup line! I know nothing in life is guaranteed, it's just tough to sail knowingly into uncharted waters.
As for the opening line of today's entry: I'm not sleeping well at night for various reasons. They keep it terribly cold, and if one didn't know any better he would truly believe that a moose was being tortured in the bed across the room. The snoring is absolutely unbearable. I've not slept more than two hours consecutively since I've been here. Thus, I plan to start sleeping at the airport. I can think of more comfortable conditions, but least I'll be alone. There's basically a closet with a cot in it at the office for visiting flight crews, and I believe I'm going to take up residence there so that I can get away from the predictably obnoxious Maverick, and his moody counterpart Iceman. They're currently swilling beer in the living room, and watching what appears to be a romantic comedy together. I can hear them through a closed door and over the movie I currently have playing in my headphones. I'm really starting to wonder about them. On the plus side, I met my fourth roommate today. He's a super nice guy from Ghana. I found out why I never see him at the apartment - He can't stand Tom and Val either.

At risk of depressing the audience, it's business as usual here. I keep thinking that it will get better, but it gets worse by the minute. I may try to do at least a little reading before I go to bed, so with that, I will close. On tap for tommorow: figure out what to do with my life. See ya then, same bat time, same bat channel.


Joey

Day 2 - The Plot Thickens

Well, dear followers, I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is that the social environment, and by extension, a portion of my morale, has improved today. Lewis and I are really hitting it off, and we are having a lot of fun. The bad news is that we are having so much fun because there is nothing for us to do except goof off.

As was the case yesterday, we were scheduled to begin our day at 8 am. Once more, Lewis and I arrived promptly and were ready to begin. Unfortunately, we continue to function sans sensei. We again wasted a huge portion of the day with idle time, and are way behind as a result. Very little training was conducted due to the intrusion of other duties upon the site manager, who is playing fill-in for the instructors whom are either not concerned with showing up on time (if at all), or non-existent altogether. Perhaps two cumulative hours of classroom instruction was given, and perhaps as much was given in the sim doing startup and runup procedures practice (Lewis and I are pictured at left in the sim). I am dissatisfied with the education being offered, and extremely concerned, especially considering the fact that my multi-engine checkride continues to remain steadfastly scheduled for less than one week from now! It is questionable, if not ridiculous, to expect adequate profiency in a week's time, and we have wasted two of those days. We were also given word today that no one would be available to instruct us for at least the first half of the day tommorow, so we don't even have to show up until 1 pm. More down time. I have no confidence in my ability to master such a complex aircraft in this short time. I really don't see how I am going to pass a checkride, much less be a safe and proficient multi-engine pilot, with little to no training and six to eight hours in the aircraft.

The plus side is that, as previously stated, the social environment has improved (as long as I'm away from my apartment, an environment which continues to erode my morale). I have also seemed to click with Lewis' room mate, a mid-40s pilot from Michigan named Jerry, who is rather intrigued, if not completely bewildered, by my southern drawl. We began our day by assigning the nicknames "Iceman" and "Maverick" to my room mates for our own humorous purposes (the similarities in arrogance, demeanor, and physical appearance are uncanny!) We also conjured up rather colorful nicknames for ourselves, which don't bear repeating in public forum. Their other room mate will be moving out soon, and I humbly requested to be reassigned to their apartment. Given the similar personality traits and humorous dispositions that each of us possess, we have basically banded together as much as possible. After leaving the airport, we made the drive to Decatur, Georgia, to attend a GPS/IFR seminar presented by the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association. The picture at right was taken by me during the seminar, and I think it basically speaks for itself with regard to the pulse-pounding excitement that we experienced during the seminar. Pay particular attention to the elderly fellow in the fedora hat.

By the looks of things, I'm beginning to be deeply concerned. I've begun to consider other options to reach my destination if this route continues to be this problematic. I was fortunate to have a very lengthy and substantive telephone conversation with a Continental Airlines pilot this evening, and for his time and attention I am eternally grateful. He offered some truly wonderful insight to my plight, and really gave me some things to think about it. Special thanks also go to Rachel Miller and Mike Fortune for their perspectives as aviation professionals, as well as the support and opinions that they have provided over the last two days. Despite the concerns I'm having, the decisions I face, and the choices that I will make, one thing is for sure: My resolve to become an airline pilot is stronger than ever.

Oh, and the good news is, I get to sleep late tommorow.

Joey

Day 1

My first day is in the books. I got to the airport at 8 am this morning. I met my flight partner, another pilot named Lewis. He's pretty cool, right around my age, and we seem to get along alright. After indoctrination paperwork we kinda just piddled around in the morning. I went and had lunch with the family before they left, so that helped a TON. They're coming back Friday, so I'm just trying to make it til then. After lunch, we went back to the airport and piddled around some more. Nothing really substantial, they have too many students and not enough instructors, so Lewis and I basically just sat there for most of the day. About 3 o'clock we finally started working on some things, and learned to pre-flight one of the airplanes I'm supposed to fly. At about 5, the instructor left. He left me and Lewis to learn the systems of the airplane at the airport. I got to come back to the apartment at about 8:30 or 9:00.
I'm in a two-bedroom apartment with four other pilots, so I have to share my bedroom and bathroom. I have a little corner of the room, bed, and end table that are my corner of the world. Those guys are further along in the program than I am, and older than me. We don't really seem to click. It's not that they're not nice guys, I just don't really fit in. They're very different from me, so they stick together and I keep to myself and stay in the bedroom when I'm here.
I'm not really doing very well with this. I'm terribly homesick, and aside from that I'm just not really happy. I'm beginning to really doubt myself about a lot of things. I'm lonely, and I'm not having any fun at all. There's a ludicrous amount of information that you are expected to know in a short time, and I don't know if I can tackle all of it. Even if I do, I don't feel confident that I will master it and be totally proficient. I guess we'll see what happens.

Well, tommorow is another day. I hope it gets better. I'm gonna watch a movie on my laptop and try to drown out the noise from the living room.


Best wishes
Joey