Tuesday, June 22, 2004

06/22

Howdy. Just sittin' here at the desk. yawn. too early. Worked yesterday too. It was dead. All I did was proctor something like four written exams. It takes about ten minutes to set up an exam and about five to grade. That would mean that during the eight or so hours I was on the clock yesterday, I may have only done about an hour of actual work. ahhh. The rest of the time I pretty much spent reading about sailing and sailboats. Nice diversion. Hold on a sec, I'm gonna go make a cheese sandwich for breakfast... mmmmm. If I think really hard, I can about make myself believe that I am having biscuits and gravy (which everyone knows is the best breakfast food ever conceived). I'm a much happier flight school desk attendant now. Where was I? oh yeah, sailboats. I've been thinking that at some point, I'm going to want to (er.. have to..) move out of mom's house. The options for a poor flight instructor would appear to be limited to:
a.) a crummy roach-infested, thin-walled apartment where I can't play my guitar and can't sleep because of neighbors' loud sex and Disney alarm clocks (the kind that play "Its a Small World After All" in the style of a sadistic calliope at 4 o'clock every morning...)
or,
b.) a crummy roach-infested trailer house with a roommate who gets high and has lots of loud sex-
You can see how both of these "options" are less than ideal for a refined, urbane individual such as myself.
So yesterday as I was satisfying my curiosity about sailing and sailboats, the little voice that always causes trouble and adventure said to me,
"You know, Adam, that all of these boats have beds and bathrooms and even kitchens. You know that you could go wherever you wanted, Adam!"
"But I could never afford a sailboat!" I said to the little voice (let's call him "THE DEVIL").
"Go look on eBay, Adam. Some of them are very affordable!" THE DEVIL urged.
"But I've never sailed!"
"How difficult could it be for a pilot to learn to sail?" THE DEVIL encouraged.
I won't bore you with the whole conversation, but it went on like that with me being practical and skeptical and THE DEVIL trying to make this specious plan seem like a valid and even an appealing option. ha. I won - for now, anyway. THE DEVIL is very persistent. ("My dearest Wormwood...")
Went and played softball last night with the church guys. I play catcher because I don't really know the game and can only throw as far as the pitcher's mound. I'd planned on going home after work to change clothes and grab my glove etc. I got half way there and was called back to the school to proctor another test, so I called mom to have her bring my stuff to the ball field. The test ran long, and I got to the park just in time for the start of the game. Mom had brought my clothes and shoes, but she'd forgotten my glove. I know. I can't believe it either. I caught the first inning in slacks and a polo with a borrowed glove. I was late in the batting order so I had time to change clothes before my turn to bat, but just barely. After walking straight from the bathroom to the plate, I flied out. Got an RBI out of the deal, though.
We spanked the other team the first game. We were just ON. The second game was a different story, though. We couldn't field, the calls weren't going our way, and we just couldn't get anyone on base. I can't speak for my teammates, but my personal lack of performance during the second game may be attributed to the three softballs I caught with my face. One tipped off the bat, and the other two bounced off the ground and up into my face. I've played catcher in quite a few softball games (I've always sucked) and this had never been a problem before. With every mind-jarring blow to the kisser, I became more and more pissed off. So by the end of the game I was playing angry which we all know is terrible for a person's athletic Chi.
My muffler fell off while I was driving to the sports bar after the game. I pulled over and threw it into the trunk. The ol' Supra seems to have a little more pep without it and its not that much louder. If it weren't for the fumes, I'd be tempted to leave it that way.
Ashley had arrived at the ballpark in time to see the second game, so she met mom and David and I at the sports bar. Just after we got there, a big group with a ridiculous crying baby came and nestled in right next to us. grrr. I still enjoyed the tasty beer and burger, but it cut the post dinner conversation a bit short and did nothing to restore my chi.
I called Ashley after I got home and our quiet conversation really helped to calm me down. She has a beautifully subtle way of conveying calming reassurance, which is exactly what I need from time to time. She's definitely my other little voice. I slept very well last night.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

6-16-04

Howdy. Today was a beautiful day. Ashley and I slept in till 9:30 or 10:00 and then laid around and talked (no, really... talked) till I was late for my noon intro flight. I have to admit that I was less than excited to leave her to go give what would probably be a free airplane ride (CFI's don't get paid for intro flights, but we do them knowing that a percentage will turn into actual students. We call those who do not continue "rides"). I was only about ten minutes late and when I got there Chris (flight school asst manager) was taking the older doctor and his younger wife (nurse) on a tour of KCAC's facilities. phew.
I was bleeding under my right ear. Cut myself shaving. Wouldn't stop. I'd been using a pair of boxer shorts that happened to be in the passenger seat of my car to keep the blood from dripping off my jaw bone and onto my shirt, but I didn't figure I ought to take those into the flight school. So I continued bleeding till just before the couple returned with Chris.
The couple seemed pleasant, but not too interested in actually learning to fly. yep. ride. oh, well. They both had certificates for intro lessons, so after a half hour with the doctor (who seemed really afraid of the controls) I greased on a landing for them and we busted out a little Chinese Firedrill on the ramp. The nurse actually flew a little. I guess she had some experience in sailplanes quite some time ago in Cali. After I told her that the pedals turned the nose wheel, she still wanted to know why the ailerons didn't turn the airplane on the ground. I love being a flight instructor. I had wanted to take them over the city but there was a pretty heavy looking cell a few miles to the north of OJC. It was dumping rain and cutting visibility to what looked like nil. I didn't figure that would be a pleasant introduction to the world of general aviation for the happy couple, so we went back out to the south. Another cell chased us back to the airport from Paola. Kinda fun. Very beautiful.
After we landed (dropped it in a bit that time), they told me how nice it would be to be able to fly themselves to their house in Colorado or to see their kids. I gave them my card and told them to call me when they wanted to go up for another lesson. They laughed and said something about paying for kids' college. I wanted to tell him, "Gimme a break, you're a respiratory effing therapist..." but I just smiled and assured them that I know how expensive college is. Real reason: Guy had no cajones. Whatever.
Then, I left the airport and went to my favorite chinese restaurant- The New Bao Shing in Stanley. Kung Bao chicken kicked ass as usual. Went from there to Borders. Sat and read "What Color Is Your Parachute" for a while. Still don't know the meaning of life. Oh, well. Got a Mocha and Adrienne called. We tried for a while to discover the meaning of life, to no avail. Oh, well. When my dad's brother started showing symptoms of paranoid phsychosis, dad told me that uncle Dan had "always had a fair amount of existencial angst." Who are you? Who told you to read this? Leave me alone.