Howdy. Greetings from the “Vagabond Blues” coffee shop in Palmer, Alaska. I drove the hour up here from Anchorage this afternoon to pick up the title to the car I bought a few weeks ago. It’s a ’99 Hyundai Accent. Upon seeing photos, my father, using a newly acquired piece of vocabulary, referred to it as a “hoopty.” Granted, when I found it, body damage on the rear quarter panel required the trunk to be held closed with a bungee cord. I have since secured it from the inside with an industrial strength zip tie. The damage to the sides and the front quarter panel have, at least so far, not required any corrective efforts on my part. The seats are stained with god-knows-what and specked with glitter. In addition to the fact that it only had 53,000 miles and the purchase price was $1,300, all of this leads me to believe that the previous owner was the irresponsible, alcoholic, 16 year old daughter of one of the pillars of this suburban Anchorage community. Seems to run pretty well, though. I just hope it makes it through the winter.
I was awakened at 10:30 this morning by shafts of sunlight shooting through the blinds of my second story bedroom on Government hill. Even though I was still in bed, I could see over downtown Anchorage to the mountains on the opposite side of the valley. The snow is almost perceptibly inching its way down the slopes as the freezing level descends in a Dick Clark style countdown to winter. I got up and made a killer breakfast burrito with eggs, tomatoes, onions, green chili peppers, cheese, and thick slices of bacon.
After a shower, I went to the hangar.
“I just got back from simulator training in San Antonio”, I explained to Ginger the purchasing lady.
“Ah, and you passed your check ride?”
“Yep."
“All right. You’ll need to go and get measured for your pants. You’ll get three pairs and your share is $195. You’ll also need the parka, which is $65. Did you want to get one of the black sweaters?”
“I’m from Kansas. I’ll probably need all the insulation I can get.”
“Yes you will. That’s another $35. We can take $47 out of each of your next six paychecks if you’d like...”
“Uh, yeah."
“OK, here are your wings, epaulettes, tie, and stocking cap.”
Next, I thought I’d see if I could find out when I’ll begin Initial Operating Experience. I couldn’t. After a six week tornado of relocation and all-consuming study of company policies and aircraft systems and procedures, I now find myself restlessly waiting to apply all that I have (or should have) learned. However, it is great to have a chance to breath a bit, do some recreational reading, and worry about the bills I’ve accumulated with the move, the car purchase, and the minimal pay during training.
A couple weeks ago, Mom mentioned to her man-friend that I was in a “state of transition.” He replied that I was always in a state of transition. If you look at the last, oh, eight years, he’s right. As such, it came as a shock to some who know me that I signed a two-year contract with this airline. That’s about four times my tenure with my last three employers. I think that’s a good thing though. If I’d gotten another six month gig, I’d probably have lost all credibility.
Plus, I’m pretty optimistic about this situation. I’ll be home almost every night. I’ll be flying a 17 passenger twin turbo-prop into some really incredible spots (several of our destinations are islands in the Bering Sea). I’ll probably even have the opportunity to do some more bush flying. The schedule here is much better than it was in Juneau. I’m supposed to have 3 days off per week (instead of one), which should give me lots of time to explore all the outdoor spots and community activities available around here. I also have jump seat privileges with most of the big airlines, so I can go pretty much anywhere I want on my days off.
I’m probably going to try to work as much overtime as possible for a while, though.
Gotta pay off the hoopty, yo.
