Jets and Life

Back to work, kinda

2009-08-11T18:30:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow, I report for a two-hour bus driver meeting. It's kind of like being awakened by having a bucket of cold water thrown in your face. Summer has gently pulled me into an attitude and lifestyle of near-complacency. Go to bed when I wanna, get up when I wanna, do what Carole asks me to do when I wanna :).

After the meeting, I'll still have nearly two weeks before school starts. And as I've stated before, the mental attitude of a school bus driver is much different from that of a teacher this time of year. The teacher has to get mentally ready for the stress and exhaustion that goes with the territory. You practically have to get your "game-face" on. But all I have to do is remind myself of how important it is to be safe behind the wheel. And about how precious the cargo is.

I'm just real fortunate to be doing something I enjoy doing. What a blessing!

Wrestling with the Angel

2009-08-05T22:52:00.003-05:00

Frankly, most days I struggle with two trains going in opposite directions: grace and effort. I am completely aware that Ephesians 2:8 assures us that we are saved by grace through faith. I am a baptized believer. But I can't get it out of my cranium that there is a line drawn on a sheet of paper in heaven and that my performance as a human looks like a lie-detector needle as it jerks back and forth across that line.

Why is this? Is it because of some sort of Americanized work ethic that's been drummed into me since I was 6 years old? Is it the hangover of legalistic preaching I grew up with that really did think salvation was attainable through maximum effort? And is it avoidable?

It's like I can't internalize what God is telling me. I consider all my failings and repeatedly come to the conclusion that I'm lukewarm. And we all know what happens to the lukewarm Christian. I can extricate myself from this depressing feeling by reading about grace or hearing a grace-based sermon. But sooner or later, I'm back chasing that line again. I'm like Paul, who contemplated all he left undone or unsaid and pronounced himself miserable.

The paradox of this is that when asked if I'm saved or not, I firmly answer in the affirmative. One part of my brain accepts what the shed blood of Jesus has bought for me. But as far as the day-to-day attitude I start each morning with, it's "you better start earning the gift that has been handed you."

Anybody want to chime in on this conundrum?

Updates

2009-07-31T08:58:00.006-05:00

Carole and I had a fabulous trip to Kansas. Her brother, Joe, might as well be my real brother. We agree about so much in life, we're both taller than 6'4", and we both look out for Carole. Meanwhile, Carole and her sister-in-law, Laura, might as well be sisters. Toss in their 4 year-old twin boys and it's a recipe for fun.

Speaking of recipes, Laura trotted out a peanut butter sheet cake after lunch. My taste buds went crazy. I hurried through every meal Laura served just so I could explore the riches of that cake.

Joe and I had a great Saturday. First off, we babysat the twins in the morning while Carole and Laura went shopping. The boys are great kids with enormous curiosity...one loves insects, one loves marine life. They both like to sit next to me and watch train videos on my laptop. They are prone to spontaneously popping up with "I love you, Uncle Tim" statements that me want to kidnap them.

In the afternoon, Joe and I hurried over to the downtown Kansas City airport to visit the Airline History Museum. It's not in a normal brick building, but rather resides in an old hangar, and features three aircraft that are pretty much out of the skies now. One is a Super Constellation, a four-propeller plane that TWA featured.

We toured the inside of the plane (in stiffling heat, I might add) and noticed the difference in seat comfort then as opposed to now. Here's a mannequin occupying a seat in coach...notice that seats were a little wider back then:

From there, Joe and I went to the Rangers/Royals game. The Royals are terrible, one of the worst teams I've ever seen. But that means nothing, because they drubbed Texas badly. Joe left the stadium happy while I dragged my feet a bit.

All in all, a lovely trip. We enjoy these folks so much that a trip for next summer is already in the works. This time, Carole and I plan to drive rather than fly...and we plan to join the Robertsons for a 2-3 trip to see Mt. Rushmore. I've always wanted to see that place, particularly since I'm sure there are Americans who want to etch Obama's mug into that mountain before much longer. Uh, over my dead body.

Off to Overland Park

2009-07-23T15:28:00.004-05:00

It's nice to have a diversion in the middle of the summer. Carole and I will fly to Kansas City tomorrow for a weekend stay with her brother, Joe, and his family.

So for 3 days, I won't be moving water hoses, mowing grass, or pulling weeds. That is, unless Joe makes me work for my keep. He and I will also go to the Rangers/Royals game on Saturday night, an occasion that could produce fireworks since Joe has Benedict Arnold'ed and become a Royals fan. How could he? Hopefully after the Rangers skewer KC, he'll repent.

All-American

2009-07-18T22:08:00.014-05:00

I guess I've "shot" more AA aircraft than any other. They are very conducive to photography - simple lines and a whole lot of silver. Nobody asked, but of the thousands of American Airlines photos I've taken, here are my favorite 10:

Okay, I cheated. One of them was an American Eagle, but hey, it's a close cousin of the others.

Where to plop down...

2009-07-13T16:31:00.004-05:00

I'm an ardent believer in naps. I'm always thrilled when I see doctors endorse them as part of a healthy lifestyle. I've blogged before about I've perfected the fine art of sleeping on my school bus (not while driving, of course). But there is always a debate that occurs when the topic of naps pops up. Where to plop down?

There are two camps: one side that returns to the piece of furniture designed for sleep, the bed, and the other group that would never slip under the covers for a nap but instead always seeks out a couch or a recliner. Group 1 always brings up the comfort factor and the familiarity factor - once in the bed, your body automatically knows what to do and sleep comes naturally. Group 2 sez that is the best way to ruin a nap...for by making your body comfortable, you open yourself up for a 2-hour nap, a guaranteed ticket for waking up miserable and ruining the prospects for good sleep that particular night.

I've tried it both ways...if it's in the 20's outside and if it's a dark, cloudy Sunday afternoon, the bed is way more seductive than the couch. But generally, I fall into Group 2 and curl up on the couch. There I'm assured that something will go bang or the phone will ring, or UPS will throw a box against the door and the nap has no chance of getting out of control and going 2 hours. I've found that I can nod off to sleep on the couch with the TV on and even with a grandchild in the room, something that would be unthinkable if occurring at bedtime.

I'm sure there's more to say about this conundrum, like how 45 minutes is the magic nap duration, but my eyes are growing heavy...

Can't Beat Sundays

2009-07-12T16:44:00.002-05:00

I think we Christians were created to praise our Creator. God must have wanted to kick back and listen to his followers lift Him up with joyous, cathartic singing and praying.

Carole and I are blessed to be able to attend Highland Oaks Church of Christ in Dallas. If you ever are in our area on a Sunday, you must come see (and hear) it for yourself.

We've always had excellent preaching and I don't want to minimize in any way the influence these guys have had on my life. But it's the singing that moves me and leaves a bounce in my step for the next seven days. I also don't want dismiss the real reason we're there every Sunday...to remember our Savior's sacrifice. That's what gives the motivation to live for Him for that next week. But communion, due to the anguish Christ suffered on the cross, is more of meditative and reflective experience where one pulls inward. But I love the chance to have an outlet for all the joy I have as a follower of Him.

And I double-dog-dare you to keep your right foot still while singing "Blessed Be the Name".

Greatness

2009-07-07T22:43:00.002-05:00

The world is so messed up. I didn't catch any of the M. Jackson stuff today and didn't want to. It seems that if one can sing well enough or dance well enough or throw a football through a tire 30 yards away, we dismiss whatever nefarious garbage is on their resume.

Steve McNair is rather dead today. By all accounts, he had been a good family man and a charitable fellow. But he decided somewhere along the way that doing what was right was getting boring and tiresome, and he ventured into a relationship and failed to count the cost ahead of time. Think he'd like a do-over if given another chance?

Jesus said it very simply. "I am the way." Satan is so adept at tossing out alternative ways that entice us. We must commit every morning before our feet hit the floor to follow "the way" and not be persuaded to check for tempting detours. If we follow the tracks left by Savior, we might miss the adulation that Messrs. McNair and Jackson have garnered but we will have the satisfaction of hearing the most heart-melting words that will ever be spoken: "Well done, good and faithful servant!"

My Favorite Spot

2009-07-04T21:43:00.002-05:00

Earlier this week, I built a small, wooden platform whose purpose was to assist my 90 year-old mom-in-law in the process of stepping up into our new pickup. We had done a dry run just after getting the truck to see if it were possible for her to comfortably step in and have a seat. Well, she needed another inch or two to pull this off, hence, I built the platform. Then, I tossed it into the back of the truck and pretty much forgot about it.

Then on Friday afternoon, at long last, I grabbed my camera gear and headed to DFW Airport for some photography. I had been out there just once in the past 9 months or so...mainly because of the necessity of dealing with Mom and then the selling of her house. In times past, I would drive out there twice a week to feed my passion for aviation photography. So I eagerly headed west and upon arrival at the airport, immediately went to my favorite spot to "shoot" planes.

This is a perfectly legal place located at the end of a public road. There's a concrete platform I stand on that covers a sewer of some kind. When I'm perched there using my 6'4" height, there's just enough visual clearance over the barbed-wire to get a clean look at landing aircraft on runway 17L. But when I arrived yesterday, I found that the authorities had installed razor-wire around the barbed-wire at the top of the perimeter fence. This added about six inches to the height of the fence and meant that my shots there would now feature fuzzy wire at the bottom of each picture.

What to do. I found a small concrete block and tried standing on it, but it wobbled and I tossed it aside. Meanwhile, my scanner crackled with the sound of air traffic control clearing an American Airlines flight to land on 17L. Suddenly I remembered Nana, and the platform in the bed of the truck. I immediately limped off to retrieve it...uh, I don't run much anymore. I returned to my spot, set up the platform, and stepped up. Bingo! Just the right amount of clearance to shoot these birds from a favorable angle. The AA plane touched down (from St. Louis), turned off the runway, and taxiied right toward me. It was a 757, which is to many the most photogenic aircraft this side of the Concorde.

I squeezed the shutter and got the shot you see above. And I couldn't have done it without Nana's help. And I can't believe you've read this much of one man's boring blog.

Keys to Living

2009-06-30T11:04:00.003-05:00

I apologize for anyone tuning in to get info on how find meaning in their life. This is about the other kind of keys.

My problem is where/how to stash my keys on my person when I'm out and about. I really envy women (and strange guys) who carry a purse and therefore have a receptacle for their keys. Of course, sometimes Carole's keys get lost in her purse, mingling down in there with all the mints, makeup, and tire-changing equipment.

Part of my problem is that I can't stand to have anything in my front pockets. I have peripheral neuropathy in my legs and the slightest bit of strange pressure can send me through the roof. I remember pulling over the school bus one day just to get a quarter from my pocket; the relief was way more than 25 cents worth.

I can almost tolerate one key in my pocket. But if that's a car key, what about the house key and the other vehicle keys? I've dealt with this in the past by merely wearing a small hook over my belt and clipping a ring full of keys onto it. But I think that looks so gauche, so grade-school custodian-ish. You remember him, too, eh? When you're in the 3rd grade, you practically worshipped him because he could open anything. And he knew exactly which of his 143 keys went to what.

Also contributing to the gravity of this situation is the size of today's vehicle keys. My 1971 Cutlass had two flat, short keys...easy to deal with. Today's vehicle keys are Swiss Army knives. Not only can you start your car, you disable a nuclear weapon with them.

So if you're reading this and you're a guy, first of all, get a life. Secondly, tell me how you do your keys...what works for you. I won't leave the house until I get a viable solution.

One in Jesus

2009-06-29T08:02:00.004-05:00

Here is a great website, full of thought-provoking discussion:

http://oneinjesus.info/

The man behind the thoughts is Jay Guin, an Alabama lawyer and a Church of Christ elder.

After you've clicked on the link, scroll down a bit to see a fascinating treatise on "ministers guilty of sexual sin".

"Why I Don't Own a TV and Rarely Go to Movies"

2009-06-26T20:29:00.003-05:00

No, not me. This guy: http://www.desiringgod.org/ResourceLibrary/TasteAndSee/ByDate/2009/4023_Why_I_Dont_Have_a_Television_and_Rarely_Go_to_Movies/

But I happen to endorse nearly everything he writes.

And we did get the truck. No more negotiating for a few years now.

So, I'll try again tomorrow...

2009-06-25T23:43:00.002-05:00

It's extremely late on Thursday evening. I have found a couple more extremely attractive Honda Ridgelines via the 'net, one at John Eagle Honda, the other at Park Place Lexus. Either would look good in my garage. All I need is some cooperation on their part to lower their asking price a bit. Sigh...more negotiating upcoming.

How Low Can You Go?

2009-06-24T11:05:00.003-05:00

Of all the varied life experiences that come my way, I would rank negotiating with a car salesman right there with back surgery and weed-eating on a hot day (something I just did, btw). Of course, this is just about the only legitimate American arena where the fine art of give-and-take is still viable. I really like the idea of CarMax, where every car's price is posted and non-negotiable.

It seems that every six years or so, I'm sequestered in a tiny office trying to buy a vehicle from a salesman who smiles too much and is way too friendly. I emerge from these discussions feeling absolutely dirty, as though I had spent the evening in a tavern filled with drunks and lifelong Ranger fans. The core of the seediness is the premise on which the car dealer negotiates: "I'm giving you our final offer. We simply cannot go any lower. After all, we have to make a little profit, you know." The truth is that they CAN go lower and WILL go lower if you stare them down and try to make your face look like a bulldog's.

The other problem with buying a new or slightly used pre-owned car...stop right here. Whoever thought up "pre-owned" is forever enshrined in the Auto Dealer Hall of Fame, a lovely structure just across the street from the Funeral Directors Hall of Fame, a place with a bust of the person who came up with "pre-deceased" and acted like it was a real word. Anyway, my other problem with the buying process is simply the amount of money that it requires. How many vehicles have I bought that cost more than my first house? Seven? I keep thinking about how I live in the world's richest nation and how I get caught up in vehicle envy sometimes and how I should really just worry about getting something cheap that gets me to work and back.

Carole and I spent 2 hours at a local Honda dealer last night. Went in to buy a used Ridgeline pickup that their website showed as being in their inventory. Got there and found out it had been sold, probably days ago. The salesman said that it sometimes takes a week to update their website...hmmmm. So we test-drove another Ridgeline which was a great vehicle, but I wanted black or silver and this one was "Tafetta White" or somesuch. We decided to just check and see how much a new 2009 model would cost, and that led to the inevitable "what would it take to get you to buy a new one tonight" game, the one which makes me feel like I'd rather be weed-eating.

I almost bought one, but decided to sleep on it. I woke up this morning thinking that the dealership had been reasonable and that I would accept their lowest offer. But when I called them, turns out Carole and I had misinterpreted their final offer and that indeed, they wanted a couple thousand more and so...I declined. I hung up feeling glad the process was over. I can go about my normal routine today and not feel so pre-deceased.

My Dad

2009-06-21T16:05:00.004-05:00

Poor guy, he was part of that 40's-50's mentality which convinced men that honor as a father was achieved by putting food on the plates. The more you worked, indeed the harder you worked, the better you fit the mold of the ideal father. So my dad slugged away, pouring himself into his job at the post office, working nights and holidays because that meant more take-home pay.

All that work robbed me and my siblings of a lot of his time. So when we did get time with him, real quality alone-with-Dad time, it was rich. I have two favorite recollections in this vein. One is of playing catch with him. The other is rather weird: I was a Warner Bros. cartoon addict. Occasionally, Dad would plop down with a 30-minute set of 3 Roadrunner cartoons about to commence. He would laugh so hard that tears came to his eyes, and it somehow meant a lot to me that we shared an affinity for something so worthless.

He had integrity oozing from his pores. He was friends with everyone. He had old girlfriends stashed in multiple states and would even drop in on them unexpectedly during our family car trips, something my mom wasn't too keen on. And he buried in our collective noggins the notion to always do the right thing. Always.

I can't wait to see him again.

Well, shoot

2009-06-20T14:55:00.002-05:00

It's a lovely Saturday, one that I had planned to spend on the lawn tractor, mowing down the surrounding fields. But alas, I've been levelled by a bug of some sort. I go from the recliner to the bed to the recliner to the bed...

This better be the 24-hour variety or I'll be one unhappy father on my day.

As seen on Oprah

2009-06-18T20:42:00.004-05:00

I awoke from my usual afternoon nap on the couch today (ain't summer great?) in time to catch some of today's Oprah show. Now I know a lot of stuff on there is forgettable, but there was merit to the presentation today. It was a close look at what this economic situation is doing to middle-class families in these tough times.

I did not know that there are tent "cities" popping up outside some of our larger urban areas. The denizens of these tents aren't the typical homeless...they are folks who used to have good jobs and good benefits. There were college degrees on their walls. Now, they are jobless and homeless and the roof over their heads is made of canvas.

Also profiled was a company that goes to clean out houses that have been foreclosed on and vacated by the people who lived there. Many of these folks had literally left everything behind...big-screens, furniture, family pictures, birth certificates, etc. And the reason for that apparently is that when they left, they didn't know where they were going and didn't have the means to move these items anyway. And the mind-boggling part was where this company took all this stuff - to the landfill. All of the usual charitable collection places had taken all they could take.

Finally, Oprah focused on another economy-driven phenomenon: strangers moving in with strangers. A couple who is out of work but has a big house opens it up to a lady and her teenage daughter who need a place to stay and can pay some rent. In this particular situation, everyone was extremely happy with the arrangement, so much so that the homeowners are looking to rent out more of their rooms.

Carole and I immediately began talking about how blessed we are to be in good shape right now. And I am feeling a strong urge to do two things; give more to those in need, and save instead of spend. Not surprisingly, these are two concepts that my wonderful, sainted parents practiced non-stop. Since both of them had lived through the Depression, there was absolutely no urge toward materialism in either of them. As I've mentioned before, when we cleaned out Mom's house, I found that she had still been using cooking utensils that I remember as being in bad shape in the '50's!

So anyway, thanks Oprah for enlightening us today. Sure beats having some guy tell me how to do window treatments.

Strangely silent...

2009-06-15T17:21:00.003-05:00

The flawed reasoning and outright naivete of Obama has been readily apparent in many ways lately. Here's the latest bungle. There is big trouble in Iran as the people who want something else besides an Ahmadinejad regime are taking to the streets...and the violence is escalating. These are folks who want real freedom and a chance for better relations with the U.S. and they want it now. Normally, a U.S. president would be very vocal in defending folks desperate for freedom, but there has been nary a word from Obama. I love what Gary Bauer (Campaign for Working Families of America) had to say today:

"The explanation for their silence is simple – and disgusting. The Obama Administration has spent the last 5 months reaching out to Ahmadinejad. The president publicly stated that he is not interested in regime change in Tehran and promised a policy toward Iran based on “mutual respect.” The thirst for freedom in Iran is a complication for an administration that has already committed itself to appeasing the tyrants in the current Iranian regime. As a result the United States’ moral authority has been absent during the Iranian election and the protests that have followed. Surely even this administration will eventually become embarrassed as they fail to find any words to defend the only people in Iran with whom we may have “shared values.” At a bare minimum we should immediately increase radio and satellite broadcasts into Iran and use whatever internet tools we have to reach its people."

2012 just can't get here quickly enough.

Moore 2010

2009-06-14T16:37:00.004-05:00

Judge Roy Moore is back in the news. He is running for governor in Alabama, the election being in 2010. Of course, this is the brilliant jurist who, as Chief Justice of the Alabama Supreme Court, led an unsuccessful attempt to keep a Ten Commandments monument in the state courthouse in 2003. Later that year, he was removed as Chief Justice by the Alabama Court of the Judiciary.

His likely opponent in 2010 is a guy who ardently supports Obama.

I've been reading Moore's autobiography, So Help Me God. It's a fascinating look at a man who came from being dirt-poor to go through West Point, on to Vietnam, and then back to Alabama to begin his life as a lawyer and judge. Throughout all of his life, Moore has stood for God with unmatched determination, eloquently defending the role of the Almighty in the founding of our country. His nemesis, of course, is the ACLU, an organization which wants God excluded from society as we know it. Even though it meant losing all he had worked for, Judge Moore never buckled in his defense of the importance of God in the formation of our government.

This guy has a chance to be a voice of reason and clarity if elected. If he wins in a landslide, the media will be forced to pay attention and a message will have been sent to those who seek to bludgeon Christianity out of existence. A sweeping victory would also, perhaps, give leverage to Moore as a candidate for president in 2012. I'm still in the dreaming stage here, but can you imagine an election with more disparity in character and philosophy than Obama and Judge Moore? It would be delicious stuff, and an opportunity to try and undo the incredible mess that our current president is making.

If you are a good conservative who is tired of the direction being taken by the forces of evil in our nation, and have a few bucks lying around just waiting for a positive use, you might want to contribute to the Moore campaign. Here's the link you need: https://www.moore2010.com/contribute

One more thing: his birth certificate shows him to be an American citizen.

Wired

2009-06-11T22:51:00.003-05:00

I'm getting braces. No, not for my knees. For those pearly whites. My wife, a grad of Baylor Dental School, has informed me that my crooked ways will lead to problems later on. Of course, there's not too much "later on" left, but I've started the process and met with an orthodontist.

I've got a narrow palate and the requisite number of teeth. They fought for territorial rights as they came in; the strong locked into position, the weak were forced to move. Someday, I'll confront my ancestors in heaven and sort this out...somebody has to have been responsible for the genetics that left me with this problem.

It is really weird to be sitting there in the dental chair at the orthodonist's. All along the walls are Polaroids of his patients and none of them are old enough to drive. I'm almost too old to be behind the wheel. I glanced at my chart as Dr. Miller was jotting down notes and in large letters he had written "ADULT" above my name. What an anomaly I must be. I haven't the courage to ask him if I'm his oldest patient. He must be wondering if the wires should be there to straighten the teeth or merely hold them in.

Anyway the wires come on in about 12 days. Should have the job completed in 12-15 months. At which time I'll immediately adopt a toothy grin.

Time's Person of the Year

2009-06-07T19:21:00.003-05:00

It's a tad early to be speculating about Time magazine's "Person of the Year" for 2009, but I've already been culling through possible candidates. I don't think Obama will get it; he got it last year and, much as they'd probably like to, I don't think Time will go back-to-back with the guy. As I thought about it, the more I decided there is a dearth of world-changing folks right now. Of course, Time gives this award to the "man, woman, couple, group, idea, place, or machine that for better or for worse has done the most to influence the events of the year."

It seems a bit silly to name a machine or a place "Person of the Year", but after all, Time is a magazine run by liberals and they don't think clearly anyway. So after spending all of two minutes thinking about this, I'd like to suggest Capt. Chesley Sullenberger. It was just a few months ago that Sully and his co-pilot dropped their wounded plane into the Hudson River with the greatest of ease, and a hero was born. We are somewhat starved for heroes these days, what with the ease that the media can find skeletons in anybody's closet. War heroes? Even though there are literally hundreds of men and women who do heroic acts every day, the nature of combat today is a deterrent to producing a hero the likes of Audie Murphy. Sports heroes? Please. Too many scandals and too many millionaires.

It's a shame we can't publicize and honor real heroes like the men and women who are missionaries (religious variety) and missionaries (medical variety). They practically do their craft in a vacuum and most wouldn't want public praise anyway. There are also thousands who give their lives in selfless service to others, but who live in anonymity.

So let's go ahead and present the award to Sully. We like our heroes to be calm, cool, and steady, and he certainly fit that mold on that cold day in New York. We also prefer that they put others first, and we all know that he was the last one off the ship that day. It helps if they attempt to defer the attention to others, and Sully ceaselessly brings up his crew when a speaker mentions only him. This country knows a hero when it sees one, and we justifiably found one in this guy. I don't know if he's resumed flying again, but what a thrill it must be for the passengers to find out that their plane is being piloted by Captain Sullenberger.

Clocking out

2009-06-03T21:30:00.003-05:00

Today I turned in my lovely Yellowhound and finished another year of school bus driving. In fact, it was my 25th year of doing this. Strange as it may be, last year was my 25th as well. I was informed in March that they had miscalculated my tenure and had mistakenly given me an extra year along the way. What's crazy about this is that I was presented a watch to honor my 25th year last June and guess what...I got another watch today to honor my 25th year.

It's been quite a year. Until this year, my route always stayed in the neighborhoods and didn't venture out onto the freeways. Of course, most years I simply picked up kids who were going to the school where I taught. But this year, I had a new route that took me to far parts of southwest Dallas, loading up with girls going to Rangel, DISD's all-girl school. I drove 84 miles every day, with 90% of the driving on interstate highways during rush hour. As of today, I had accumulated over 15,000 miles of driving this school year. And, the best thing is that every mile was a safe one. I never can forget that I'm carrying around somebody else's dearly-loved kids. I do a lot of praying about this responsibility.

By far the craziest day occurred in April. I had made my first pickup and was approaching a red light at Loop 12 and Marvin D. Love Fwy. We could see an ambulance up ahead and knew something was going on. I stopped at the light and saw that there had been a chain-reaction accident involving 5 or 6 cars. That's bad but that wasn't the story. On a little, grassy traffic island to our right was a guy who was either "mental" or high on something. He was a bull of a fellow, about 6 ft. and 230 lbs. He was wearing only trousers...and seemed to want to attack the folks who had been involved in this accident. Wisely, they were all in there cars, locked up, and staring wide-eyed at this wild man.

Keeping a lid on this volatile situation was an even larger guy, probably 6'5", 260 lbs. He was a mountain of a fellow and all involved were certainly glad he was there, except for, of course, the bull-man. Here is where the story gets extremely bizarre. Somehow, the larger brute had tied a thick, yellow rope around the ankle of the smaller guy. And every time the crazy man charged toward the autos, the bigger man would jerk the rope, sending the bull-man face-down onto the grass. The smaller fella would angrily get to his feet and go after the bigger man, but to no avail. He simply couldn't out-muscle the guy. Then he'd charge the cars again and again have his left foot jerked up in the air and again he would pancake on the ground. The ambulance was parked by the little island and the paramedics were leaning against the vehicle, wanting nothing to do with either of these men. I'm sure they had requested police back-up. Of course, everyone watching, from the paramedics to the folks in their cars to kids on my bus, had all kinds of questions. Who were these guys? Were they involved in the accident? What was the problem with the, uh, crazy guy? And for pete's sake, how did he come to have a large yellow rope around his ankle? Had the bigger man put it there as sort of a leash to control the smaller guy?Unfortunately...very unfortunately, the light turned green. The final act in the drama seen by my stunned-speechless students was the mental-man charging the bus with both hands raised in the air. He got about three steps headed our way when he was summarily flipped again. I...did...not...want...to...drive...off!! Pulling away from this scene was going to leave more unanswered questions than the end of an "All My Children" episode. But I had no choice. I rolled away, much to the consternation of the girls.

We pass that intersection every morning, and often, one of the kids will start talking about the day we saw a guy on a leash try to attack folks. It was both funny and a bit scary, and definitely sad. One can only hope that the poor guy is getting some help, regardless of what his problem was. Maybe some day soon, I can tell you about the morning (years ago) when the momma of one of my male riders drove off with him draped across the hood of the car. What a great job this is!

I shutter at these!

2009-05-31T21:03:00.016-05:00

It's been awhile since I've tossed amazing aviation shots your way, so let's see what the best photographers are producing these days. Now you must promise to click on each photo in order to see the detail, okay? Let's start with the one above...one I shot. It's not an amazing shot, but the subject is interesting. Southwest Airlines likes to do theme planes, and one of the latest of these celebrates Tinker Bell and pixie dust. Now to the really good stuff.

You already knew this, but never go dallying around in front of a jet engine. The amount of suction these bad boys produce is incredible. In this shot, moisture on the runway is being pulled up into the engine in an astounding tornado-like vortex. Hey, you agreed to click on these photos! Do it!

It was God who said, "Let there be light". And soon thereafter, photographers said, "The best of us will maximize light!" Here's a Russian Airbus landing directly into the sun. And the sun exposes incredible detail.

Everybody likes sunsets, especially when you get purples and oranges:

Often, in the mornings, the air contains enough humidity that takeoffs and landings produce contrails, just like the ones you see six miles up trailing aircraft. Often, the wingtips produce wispy, delicate ones - like this slinky trail of circles tagging along behind an MD-11.

The Blue Angel pilots are the best in the business. Their performances walk the fine line between mind-boggling expertise and tragic failure every few seconds. Here are a couple of F-18's that seem to have merged. It's something called a "dirty mirror pass", for reasons that escape me. I just know I'd be looking out the cockpit window, too.

There is a photographer in Amsterdam who routinely produces miracles. He is Tim de Groot and this is but one of his amazing shots. Here he catches jet engine exhaust lit up by the sun, such that it appears to be an engine fire. Tim's pretty good, one of the world's best...and he's still in his teens.

Again, success in aviation photography is in proportion to how one uses light. Many of the most stunning shots capture usual light along with some other remarkable feature, such as weird clouds. Here's the final photo, one that does this perfectly:

Grammar

2009-05-29T18:20:00.008-05:00

I had an interesting discussion with the 6th grade girls who sat behind me on the bus this morning. Today was an exam day and they were studying up for a language arts test. They know I am former teacher and pretty soon they were peppering me with grammar questions. "What's the only part of speech that has a comparative and superlative?" "Can you explain a gerund?" I was doing great and kinda got into the "I'm smarter than you" role, sighing a bit before each answer. Then Jocelyn Ortiz asked, "Mr. Perkins, what's a variable dependent clause?" I slipped a tad lower in the driver's seat and told her I really needed to concentrate on driving safely.

Funny, it was grammar that convinced Carole and me that we were meant to be. One romantic night during the summer of '68, one of us brought up a love for the antiquated practice of diagramming sentences. Quickly, the other chimed in, "You, too?" At that point, nothing else mattered. We looked longingly into the eyes of each other and mentally diagrammed, "I do".

I don't think diagramming is taught much these days. That's a shame because it teaches a way to understand word usage that works 99% of the time. It has gone the way of respect for teachers, phonics, and getting your report card signed by a parent. Oh, you didn't know about that? DISD doesn't require that a student return a signed report card to the school. You can drop it in a gutter on the way home and tell momma you lost it, but it had all A's on it, momma.

Can you diagram, "That's stupid!"?

Customer Service

2009-05-25T17:58:00.003-05:00

It was a leisurely Memorial day morning and in an almost random move, I decided to recheck details of an October trip to Vermont that Carole and I are taking. Good thing I did.

I pulled up the American Airlines reservation and the first anomaly that my eyes picked up was our arrival time at Hartford. Then I saw a blue box above the reservation that said, "Please note the change in your reservation." What should have been 3:30 PM ETA or so now showed 12:55 AM on the following day. It quickly hit me that good ole AA had arbitrarily moved us from an afternoon flight to an evening flight. Probably had something to do with making money or staying afloat or somesuch. Wouldn't it have been good customer service to at least inform me via email of such a change? It's like, "we're gonna destroy your plans and furthermore, we won't alert you."

Then I saw a note saying that I needed to call AA, and a 1-800 number was provided. I called. The first sentence I heard was in English, then it shifted to something that sounded very Asian, perhaps Chinese. Thinking I had misdialed, I tried the number again. The results were the same. I stayed with the recording for a long time to make sure that it didn't suddenly revert to English. No luck. So in desperation, I called the American Advantage program directly.

Bingo. I got a human. I told her my situation and we looked for another flight. I should stop here and explain something. Carole and I always have flown in the cabin section...for obvious socio-economic reasons. But I've accumulated a goodly portion of miles on my AAdvantage account now and I want to make this trip something a little special, so we're going first-class, baby. Up front where the bluebloods sit and discuss what art they have hanging in their summer cottages. Well, the lady informed me that on all the other flights to Hartford had only single seats in first-class available for AAdvantage members.

Well, by now you are bored so I'll simply say that I had to change our destination to Boston in order to get an acceptable travel time and our first-class seats. One hotel reservation had to be cancelled and another one made. So I guess we're victims of the tough economic times that impact airlines as hard as any business. AA will make more money selling those previously reserved seats to well-heeled corporate execs. I just wish they'd communicate with the consumers a bit better.