The Hero Within

OK, now you know my secret. While others believe I’m off flying around the southeastern USA I’m actually fighting against the forces of chaos and evil.

A little about eh costume/look. First the hair. No, that’s not a mullet. I swear. Ever since I saw the film “Willow” I wanted to be able to have my hair like Madmartigan’s (played by Val Kilmer). Why? I don’t know, it just looked cool to me, and with thick wavy hair it was never going to happen. Believe me, I grew up in the 70s when it was cool to have long hair. It didn’t work (not that my mom ever let it get too far).

As for the costume, flashy just means you’re easier to pick out. I like stealthy. Sneak up on the bad guys and take them out before they even know what’s happening.

The sword? OK, that’s more for “the look.” It’s not standard equipment, but swords are just much cooler than guns from my point of view. If you’ve ever watched “Heroes” on TV then you know that Hiro gets this too. It’s just one of those things.

Well, now my secret is out. But good luck catching me. You never know when I might turn up next.

A little more seriously, though, don’t we all want to be heroes? Some may not wish for the attention, but who doesn’t want super-powers to enable themselves to do amazing things? Amazing fathering powers would be high on my list. You know, always being able to motivate your children to do the right thing for the right reason at the right time. Incredible flying and financial planning skills would be too. Especially in this economy! Lets just make that fantastic providing powers so that we always have enough and to spare. Not to mention extraordinary husband powers (you know, like mind-reading) so that I can make my wife not only feel cherished and loved but also take away her worry and stress. I could go on, but you get the idea.

(If you haven’t already, check out my wife’s blog here. And you can be a hero too! Go to The Hero Factory and create your own alter-ego.)

My Roommate's Rough Day

Last week I received a cryptic phone call from my crash pad roommate.

“Rob, who would you call if you had just been forced to land in someone’s field?”

OK, is this a trick question? Hypothetical? But I could hear the wind whipping in his cell phone’s mike. Maybe he was serious.

“Um, I’d probably start with the owner of the airplane,” I stumbled. I had no idea. It sounded like he was trying to keep this as discreet as possible, an improbable task fraught with all kinds of issues.

“Rob, I’ll call you back.” Click.

Now what was that all about? Obviously the FAA would have to be notified, not to mention the owner of the field. I first called a friend who works for a different airline. I caught him in the middle of getting a flight ready for the passengers to board, but he promised to call back in a few minutes. I then called my Dad, who is a retired airline pilot. After talking with each of them I hopped on the internet and looked up definitions to see what constitutes an “accident” versus and “incident.” (Yes, there are very specific definitions and requirements.)

I then called my roommate back. He was talking with someone else, and said he’d call back. When he did I got the rest of the story.

It seems he was flying his step-dad in his step-dad’s plane from Utah to Florida. It was a small, single engine four-seater, about six years old. About 10 minutes after taking off from Midland, Texas he noticed a fluctuation in the oil pressure gauge. Never a thing a pilot wants to see. He decided not to take any chances and informed Air Traffic Control that he was turning back to the airport. A couple of minutes later the engine died.

Gliding to the airport was clearly not an option, so he began to look around for a suitable landing spot. Fortunately he was over northwestern Texas and not western Colorado. He quickly found a nice cotton field and gently landed into the wind, making not a scratch on the airframe. Crisis over.

Or was it? Now what? Where was he exactly, and now what should he do. I’m gratified that he called me. I only wish my initial help could have been more, well, helpful. The questions were answered for him shortly, as numerous police, fire and media vehicles arrived at the scene, informed by Air Traffic Control. You can watch the local news report about it here and read about it here.

When all was said and done he had nothing more than some paperwork to fill out, plus find a way home. It was a very stressful day, even though the forced landing was no fault of his own and could even be seen as a testament to his good judgment and skill. Nevertheless, after something so emotionally draining his reaction was not elation but exhaustion.

I extend my congratulations to him for a job well done. I’m very glad it had a happy ending, but I’m also glad it happened to him and not me.

25 Things About Me

Recently a friend posted a list of 25 things about himself that his friends may not have known. I was inspired and came up with this list about myself:

1) I spent two summers during high school volunteering in Latin America (Ecuador and Panama).
2) I helped families in small villages build latrines. My then six-year-old sister thought it was so cool that I was building trains.
3) I speak Spanish and Portuguese fluently, speak some German and am now working on learning Arabic.
4) The first girl I kissed was Brazillian. In Rio.
5) I met my future wife while trying to fish my retainer out of the trash during a freshman opening social in college.
6) She was the one who offered to help me find it, which she did. At the bottom of the can. Her parting comment was, “I’d wash that if I were you.”
7) My dad was pulled over by the police on the Bay Bridge while trying to get my mother to the hospital when she was in labor with me.
8) There are eight years between my older brother and me, and eight years between my younger brother and me.
9) My wife had never taken care of a newborn before, so when my oldest was born I was the expert. Briefly.
10) I ate some of my parents’ wedding cake (they froze it).
11) I started out wanting to be a pilot, then a diplomat, then a marriage and family therapist, then a financial planner, and then a pilot again.
12) I herded cattle in Oregon. OK, only once, but I did it.
13) I ran into a friend in Germany and he was so surprised he fell to the ground.
14) The first time I spoke to my wife’s parents I used a fake English accent (my mother-in-law is from England and my then-girlfriend mistakenly thought they would like it. Did I mention we were young?)
15) Apparently some memories fade, because when I called my future father-in-law four years later to ask to marry his daughter, his response was, “Well, it’s about time.”
16) I saw Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, Nils Lofgren, Don Henley, Tom Petty, Robin Williams, and Bruce Springsteen—all at the same concert!
17) I ran in the world’s largest footrace, with over 100,000 participants—The Bay to Breakers in San Francisco, California)
18) In high school I was nominated, “Most likely to become a sumo wrestler,” but lost out to someone even skinnier.
19) I completed the last of the requirements for my Eagle award the day before my 18th birthday. Who are you calling a procrastinator?
20) Since then I have served as a Cub Scout den leader, Cubmaster (twice), Scout committee chairman and Assistant Scoutmaster.
21) In college I was the national president of the Intercollegiate Knights, a national service honorary.
22) I enjoy trading-card games like Yu-Gi-Oh, Pokemon and Magic but rarely have time to play anymore.
23) I took piano for 6 years or so as a kid. Now I wish I had appreciated it more and taken it more seriously.
24) I watched the sun rise from the summit of Mt. Sinai in Egypt.
25) My favorite TV show is “The Amazing Race.” Surprised? I didn’t think so.

Go on, you know you want to do this too. Make your list and make sure I know where you post it!

Lazy Days

I tend to blog when I’m away on trips, but the last three months those have been sparse. November and December I was on “long-call reserve” which came with the blessing of a 12-hour call out. I took the risk of staying at home, trusting that if and when the scheduling department called I would be able to get to Atlanta in time.

In November, including my annual four-day training, I worked a total of 13 days, with 17 days off. To put that in perspective, as a reserve pilot I am only guaranteed 11 days off each month, but without the need of being in Atlanta I was able to enhance that somewhat. Of course, that necessitated that I was glued to my cell phone in case Scheduling called, plus the panic that I might not be able to make the next flight out, but that was vitiated by the extra time at home.

In December I only worked 8 days, including two days for my annual “proficiency check,” you know, to see if I could still fly an airplane to company standards. That was stressful, but I successfully passed and learned a thing or two, to boot. But the net result was that I was home for an amazing 23 days, including Christmas!

Then in January I scored a “line.” I was no longer on reserve. I had a regular schedule! That earned me a minimum of 12 days off, but I also had a week of paid vacation as well, so this month I am only working 14 days, with 17 total days off. Not bad!

But then reality checks back in. With the deteriorating economy, my airline determined that it needed to furlough 80 pilots. Fortunately for me, I was not one of them, but it eroded my seniority. This, compounded by the fact that the company created 50 fewer “lines” for February meant that not only will I be back on reserve next month but I will also be back on “short call,” necessitating my presence in Atlanta. Back to 11 days at home.

But on the other hand, I should have a lot more time to blog and read everyone’s blog. So for those of you who check in from time to time to see if I’ve posted anything new, well, there’s a pretty good chance that I’ll be back on my weekly schedule next month. See, there’s always a sliver lining somewhere!

The Things We Do For Love

I finished my last trip of 2008 on New Year’s Eve just a little after noon. A choice loomed before me. I had the next day off, but then needed to be back early on the 2nd for a trip. Flights to Utah appeared to have seats available, but returning to Atlanta on New Year’s Day looked to be rough at best—every flight but one was already oversold plus there were already dozens of fellow Delta and Delta Connection employees (“non-revs”—non revenue paying passengers) like me on the list for whatever empty seats there might be. To compound things, my next days off weren’t until the 6th, meaning that if I chose to stay in Atlanta, I would be gone for eight days in a row. Hardly ideal.

I decided to go for it. The 1:50 flight to Salt Lake City looked good. . . or so I thought. Upon arriving at the gate I saw on the monitors overhead that the flight had less than a handful of seats still available and over 50 non-revs on the list. I stood in line, hoping that the jump-seat in the cockpit was still available. It was a good plan, if only the person just ahead of me hadn’t requested it first. There was still the 4:25 flight, but all of those who didn’t make the 1:50 flight would just roll over to the next one, so my chances were slim at best.

The other pilot recognized my plight and informed me that he had checked out connecting to Salt Lake City through St. Louis and that the jump-seats were available. Another choice. I didn’t want to get stuck in St. Louis if the connecting flight was full. Once again, I decided to go for it. I raced to the other gate, since the St. Louis flight was leaving in less than 30 minutes. Trying to get the flight out on time on a busy travel day, the gate agent was less than happy or helpful when I showed up at nearly the last minute with my request. A Delta pilot had already requested the jump-seat, it turned out. Although I had priority (it was an ASA flight) and he volunteered to sit in back (he was first in the priority list for non-revs) she refused to change anything. With a (supposedly) full flight and 7 non-revs listed, my chances were looking lousy. But, as luck would have it, there must have been some paying passengers who mis-connected because there was one empty seat after all. Hallelujah!

Once in St. Louis I had to wait two and a half hours for the flight to Salt Lake City. Good thing I brought plenty to read. Fortunately I did get the jump-seat this time, and somehow, again in spite of a supposedly full flight, there was an empty seat for me in the back. I took advantage and slept as much as I could, knowing it would be a very short night.

I pulled into the driveway at 8:00, happy to be home, but still dreading the thought of getting up at 4:15 to try to get back to Atlanta. Annette greeted me with an enthusiastic kiss, very pleased that I had made the effort. That and the kids hugs, which ranged from cheerful to exuberant, made all the trouble worthwhile. We had several of our children’s friends over for the festivities, played Mario Kart on the Wii as well as Family Cranium. A good time was had by all. After seeing everyone off, putting the children to bed and cleaning up, Annette and I finally fell asleep around 1:30 or so.

Less than three hours later I was up. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as exhausted as I expected. I guess my body treated it more like a nap. Good thing. Once again, I knew that my best chance lay with requesting the jump-seat. I made sure I was first in line. Now, if a Delta pilot had wanted it, I would have lost out, but otherwise, it’s first come, first served. So first mattered. And sure enough, shortly after requesting and receiving the jump-seat another ASA pilot arrived. I kept my eyes peeled, looking for any Delta pilots, but none showed up. This time I did end up sitting in the cockpit, but I was just happy that I didn’t end up sitting in the airport all day trying to get out. That was a very real possibility.

The Delta pilots were very friendly and a lot of fun, and to top it off there were some First Class breakfasts left over for the three of us. Score! (Pilots love free food, and no, this isn’t typical.) I arrived in Atlanta shortly after noon, roughly 24 hours after I had left. After a brief train ride and somewhat longer bus trip I arrived at my crash pad and. . . well, what else?. . . crashed!

It was definitely a memorable New Year’s Eve. I was very grateful that even with a bump or two along the way, it had all worked out so well and that I was able to be with those I loved to usher in the New Year.

No More 2-Year Olds on the Trampoline

Tuesday the kids were bouncing on the trampoline and Jack-Jack began to cry. Not an unusual occurrence, except he wouldn’t stop. He was holding his right leg and couldn’t walk. It didn’t take long to realize that there was something seriously wrong. I set up a doctor appointment and Annette took him in. After trips to the doctor’s office, the radiology lab and the emergency room, it was determined that he had broken his femur.

Once Mr. Tickle and Wiz-Kid were put to bed I drove to the hospital to hear the final instructions and then helped strap Jack-Jack in to the back seat of our Caravan—lying down. No use for the car-seat for the next while. Before meeting them there I did some research on the internet. I found that breaking a thighbone is not uncommon in 2-3-year-olds because at this age the bones are still hardening. My guess is he was coming down just after Mr. Tickle bounced up and so caught up-spring of the mat. I also found out that an estimated 80% of these breaks are a result of abuse, and so we could expect a visit from Child Welfare (they stopped by yesterday—no problems). Most 2-year-olds get spica casts—a body cast from the lower chest to the ankle—and keep it for 2-3 months. No fun for Jack-Jack and no fun for his Mom (and Dad).

Our experience so far has been a little different. Jack-Jack was given a splint instead. It covers the same length as the spica cast but is held in place with Ace bandages and so is much lighter. It also appears that he may only need this for as little as a month, although I’m planning on it lasting longer. Two days later he’s starting to sleep better (he didn’t react well to the Tylenol/Codeine mix) and he’s being a real trooper about not being able to get around. He’s watching a fair amount of TV but we also take him downstairs to the playroom and play with him. This morning we built Legos together and yesterday he played cars and other games with us and his brothers and sisters.

Naturally everyone has been concerned about him, especially Wiz-Kid. Each child has been very helpful and attentive, which really helps. Meanwhile Annette is “sleeping” in the same room with him. The first night he maybe slept 40 minutes—he was prone to muscle spasms that would jerk him awake (apparently normal according to the doctor) and he would cry. Needless to say, yesterday was hard for her. She ended up finding a sub for both work and Pack Meeting (she’s the Cubmaster). Last night was better for both of them and hopefully in the next few days he’ll be sleeping normally.

Yes, it’s a trial and a challenge, but at the same time there are some definite blessings. If we had to choose a time for Jack-Jack to break a leg, this is about as good as we could have planned. I’m off until next Tuesday, so I’m around to help. Next week, of course, is Thanksgiving, so Annette will only need to work one day with me gone, if that. Hopefully my parents or someone else will be able to help the days that I’m flying. And as for Jack-Jack, being two he’s still pretty light and much easier to carry around than, say, Mr. Tickle, let alone Wiz-Kid. So when we’re not feeling the effects of sleep deprivation we’re counting our blessings. This could have been so much harder.

Oh—and no more 2-year-olds on the trampoline.

Perks of Being an Airline Pilot

• All the peanuts and soda you want! (or water in my case)



• You know your bag made it on the flight.



• The view from your office window can’t be beat!



• Lots of time to read while commuting to work (I’ve read 20+ books this year).



• Plenty of free shampoo, conditioner and soap from the hotels (not to mention mouthwash, shower caps and sewing kits).



• I never have to worry about what I’ll wear to work.



• Free reading material—whatever the passengers or other pilots left on the airplane.



• Virtually free travel nearly anywhere—as long as there are empty seats.