“AA” – A New Thread….

If you have spent any time on my blog here, you would know that I am a recovering “alcoholic.”  At least, today I am…  AA is ‘Alcoholics Anonymous;’ yet I am about as ‘anonymous’ as Coca Cola!  I appreciate and respect the ‘anonymous’ facet of AA, but I am not all that hung up with it.  Maybe had I known of someone in AA when I was in “my main act” I wouldn’t have had to suffer as much as I did?  Don’t know, won’t know.  But if you happen upon this thread, and want “to ask questions,” I will respect your anonymity.

I wrote a series of articles for our local AA publication in early sobriety.  It helped me – to put certain things down in writing.  Tend not to lie to myself when I write.  It’s just too hard!  LOL!  I am now going to include them in my blog, as they represent an integral part of me.  I don’t “dwell” on recovery, but it is never far from my conscious.

One of my “motivators” for writing, is to give some insight for my grand kids into who this guy really was – beyond the surface.  This thread will just represent another facet – that’s all…  Besides, I have hung on to these articles, and really want to get rid of them now…

So, not having any “ado’s,” I’ll begin here….

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“Kiss A Pilot – 25¢”

When I was flying C-141’s in 1971 – ’73, out of McGuire AFB, NJ, more often than not we would fly the first leg of a trip to Dover AFB, DE to onload cargo before heading overseas.  As the “crow flies,” it was only 90 miles away, or so.  Also in those days we were often crewed with 2 copilots – for crew duty considerations and experience.  I flew a few occasions with Ron. R., another Bowling Green graduate.

I had met Ron in school, but didn’t really get to know him well until we met at McGuire where I really came to like him.  So when we were paired to fly together, I knew I was in for a good trip.

Cargo aircraft do not put “bombs on target.”  Nor do they get into dog-fights or fur balls (massive dog fights).  They also do not refuel other aircraft or “spook” bad guys.  Cargo aircraft just haul “trash.”  So, we were often “graded” on our “on time departure” performance.  This was a big deal in the early ’70’s!  Careers were made and broken by “on time takeoff” rate for an airlift Wing.

Now, McGuire had an interesting “game” going on in the early ’70’s.  They would patch an aircraft scheduled to go out on a trip just enough to get it to Dover.  Many times we would take off  for Dover “OR” – Operationally Ready – only to limp in 90 miles later with a “hard break.”  McGuire got an “on time” take off, and Dover got screwed.  Oh well; above my pay grade…

One night we arrived at Dover very early in the evening – broke.  So Ron and I headed off to the BOQ (Bachelor Officer Quarters).  And then, why not have a beer?  Or 2, or 3?  We had the time…  As it turned out, the Dover Officer’s Wives Club (OWC) were having an “Oktoberfest” as a fund raiser.   Cool.  On the way in to the club, I noticed two discarded commemorative beer steins in the cigarette butt receptacle just outside the door.  I grabbed them and washed them out in the men’s room.  And wouldn’t you know it – if you had one of these spiffy beer steins, you drank free!  (You really had to buy them for $10, but what the Hell?  They were still serviceable…)  so in we went.

Inside main dining room they had a lot of booths set up – kinda in a circle – for different things.  Coin tosses, weight guessers, carnival games of skill, if you will.  About 3/4 around the circle, and after 3 beers, I saw an empty booth.  And off the brain went into ‘overdrive.’  An empty booth…

I grabbed Ron and we ducked under the crossbar into the booth. Then I took a grease pencil and wrote, on a piece of cardboard, “Kiss A Pilot – 25¢”  I then set out an empty coffee can I found and we were in business!  Everyone was laughing, and the quarters began to roll in!

I don’t know how much we made that night, but I do remember we had a ball!  On the way out I gave the coffee can of quarters to the President of the OWC, and she just looked at me like, “What the Hell?”    I wonder too, these days… How did I survive?

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The North American Auto Show

Yesterday Keith and I decided to go to the North American Auto Show, in Dee-troit. We planned it to arrive between 9 and 10; and actually got there around 10.

We looked around for the ticket sales booth, but not seeing one, we just decided to walk in – the place was wide open.

My first impression was – wow!  The Ford exhibit was the first one we saw.  Brightly lighted, ‘glitzy,’ beautiful shiny cars…impressive.  Not thinking anything about it I noticed a lot of “workers” putzing around everywhere.  And then I noticed a lot of “guys-in-ties” walking the floor.  And that was it.  Very, very few women, no kids, and not that many “gawkers” for that matter.  And we were there an hour after they opened.

As I continued to look at the interactive stands for a few of the vehicles that caught my eye, I noticed Keith “on his phone.”  It wasn’t long before he told me that the Show was actually opened to the public on Monday!  Really?  We didn’t seem to be having any problems – and we were ‘public!’

What a Hoot!  Now I have to admit, Kieth and I were dressed liked all the workers in the place – jeans and sweatshirts – only we didn’t have any stinking badges hanging around our necks!  You don’t need any stinking badges to look at cars!  I think Keith may have been a bit uneasy with it all, but I was having a ball!  Didn’t give it a second thought as I cruised Volkswagon, Acura, BMW and so forth.  The guys-in-ties did their thing; the workers did theirs and the Security guys were oblivious to all of us!  LOL!

I sensed Keith was still not comfortable being there, so I told him to just “look Japanese,” and begin taking pictures.  The most they will do is throw us out…that being fat, drunk and stupid sometimes does get us through life!  He laughed and all was good…

I didn’t see anything this year that I am compelled to head out and buy, but it was a good show.  I just need to remember what I wore so I can get the jump on the public opening again next year!

 

 

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Profiling (J)

HISTORY OF PROFILING

The day it all started was March 6, 1836.  On that fateful day, Davy Crockett woke up and rose from his bunk on the main floor of the Alamo.  He then walked up to the observation post along the west wall of the fort.
William B. Travis and Jim Bowie were already there, looking out over the top of the wall. These three great men gazed at the hordes of Mexicans moving toward them.  With a puzzled look on his face, Crockett turned to Bowie and said: “Say Jim, What are all those roofers doing out there?”

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A Retiree’s Last trip to Kroger’s… (J)

Yesterday I was at my local Kroger’s Store buying a large bag of Purina dog chow for my loyal pet, Jake, the Wonder Dog.  I was in the check-out line when a woman behind me asked if I had a dog.  Really?

What did she think I had, an elephant?

So because I’m retired and having little else to do, on impulse I told her that no, that I didn’t have a dog – that I was starting the ‘Purina Diet’ again.  I added that I probably shouldn’t, because I ended up in the hospital last time I was on their diet.  But I had lost 50 pounds before I awakened in the intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a Perfect Diet and that the way that it works is, to load your pants pockets with Purina Nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry.  The food is nutritionally complete so it works well and I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my story.)

Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care, because the dog food had poisoned me.  I told her, “No, after I peed on a fire hydrant, I stopped in the road to lick my balls, and a car nailed me.”

I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard.

Kroger’s won’t let me shop there anymore.  Better watch what you ask retired people. They have all the time in the world to think of crazy things to say.

(My friend Don sent this to me with this comment: “This has to be you, Bob!”  LOL!)

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Flight Pay

I have often said, “I didn’t join the Air Force to get rich, and they saw to it that I didn’t!”  LOL… Early in my flying career our flight pay was $400 per month.  Okay, file this for a second, I’ll come right back to it…

At UPT “motivation” was not usually an issue.  The kids we would see were all highly motivated by nature of the business we were in.  And the prospect of flying the T-38 in and of itself was also a help.

T-38 Climb For the most part my students were always well prepared for the mission at hand.  Part of that was my responsibility.  When I finished debriefing a ride, I would spell out – in detail – exactly what we would be doing on our next sortie.  It then was incumbent upon the student to prepare on his own for our next ride.  On occasion though, human nature would kick in and I would have to “kick start” the kids to get their attention.  And here is where my fight pay came to mind.

One day I sat down with my three students and explained to them “how the cow eats the cabbage.”  I told them I received $400 per month for flight pay.  “To put this in perspective, ” I said, “let’s look at what this entails.”

“I fly about 30 hours per month with you guys,” I began.  “The regulation mandates that we brief and debrief for about an hour with each flight.  Therefore each flying hour is, in reality, 3 hours.  So, for my 90 hours of flight duties I receive $400 – about $4.44 per hour.”

“Now,” I asked them, “where do you think you can receive advance jet training for $4.44 an hour?  I think I am worth a bit more than that.”

“So,” I would summarize, ” if I think you are not prepared, I will gladly give you $4.44 per hour of flight training instruction, and where do you think that will get you?”

I loved my job as a a T-38 IP!  I poured my whole heart into it, day after day.  I don’t know if I could ever set a value on what I gave to instructing.  And I gave “willingly,” without reservation.  My UPT IPs, Russ Sweets (T-37s) and Rick Vail (T-38s), made my year in pilot training one of the best years of my life, and I always felt it my obligation to do the same for my students.  It was my way of honoring the efforts they put into me…

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Grading Practices

At various points in UPT we had to take Check Rides for progress checks.  Quality control, if you will.  Check pilots were selected based on their skill sets, maturity and experience.  On occasion a ‘moron’ would slip through the system and wind up in Check Section.  Not often, but it did happen.  Kind of like this moron we now have as president…. Ahhhh.

Anyway, one day at Vance I happened to be in the my Section Commander’s office when a Flight Commander came in carrying a student grade sheet.  One of his students had just failed his Nav/Inst (navigation/instrument) check and the Flight Commander was on fire!  The only item Unsat on the grade sheet was ”Map Preparation.’  The student had neglected to circle his designated emergency fields in red, as directed by regulation.  Holy shit!

The protocol for a failed check ride called for two review rides, followed by an “Initial Progress Check (IPC).”  Therefore, “by the book” here, this student was looking at, at least two more “out and backs,” for a total of 4 sorties.   (An “out and back” is a sortie to an “out base,” then back home.  Two sorties.)

As the discussion continued, one of the Section Commanders suggested we give the student fly two out and backs, then have him turn in a new map for his Progress Check!  Funny as Hell!

I have no idea how it all sorted out, but the “grading practice” was not lost on me, and I called upon this incident many times in my subsequent years as an IP, Check Pilot and Flight Examiner.  While the standards and grading practices were very well defined, there is always room for “common sense” – for judgement.  “The ‘spirit and intent’ concept of the standard/regulation again.

The check pilot in this case was a young “careerist.”  A graduate of VMI, and very “rigid” in his mindset.  I don’t think he lasted very long after this incident…

 

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What if Stevie Decides He Wants to Fly?

In the last year of my career I had the opportunity to visit Laughlin for some reason or another.  Otherwise I wouldn’t have been down there…

I had two great friends in the T-38 squadron at the time; Greg L. and Sig H.  I truly liked both these guys.  while I was there they took me to see the new Laughlin AFB student training squadron building.  It was just about complete, and they were so very proud of it.  State if the art, it was…

The first thing I noticed when we got over there was a wheelchair ramp leading into the squadron.  Really, (I asked myself)?  I knew why they had the ramp, but it still didn’t set well with me.  My whole Air Force career we had to operate with ‘reduced’ budgets, continually challenged to “do more with less,” and here we were – building a pilot training building with a wheelchair ramp on it.  YGBSM!  So, what the hell… as we drew nearer, I asked the guys, “Say, what’s the ramp for?  In case Christopher Reeves decides he wants to come to pilot training?”

That put Greg and Sig in a great deal of stress.  They wanted to laugh, but couldn’t because one of the “big bosses” was in the area and had overheard me.  I didn’t give a shit, so I continued.  “I wonder what they will come up with if Stevie Wonder decides he wants to fly…”  Give me a break!

 

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If Ya Haven’t Been There Before, Probably Not a Good Idea to Go There….

“If ya haven’t been there before, probably not a good idea to go there,” is something I heard my whole flying career with respect to taking Nav (navigation) check rides.  It really makes sense.  There are just so many things that can go wrong on a check ride, why set yourself up with more of the “unknown?”

And so one day this kid walks in and tells me we are flying to Laughlin AFB, TX for his Nav check.  Having been to Laughlin, and knowing a little about the runway configuration, I ask him, “Have you been there before?”

“Nah,” he replies, “but I don’t think it’s a big deal.”  Okay Kid, I think to myself, and off we go.

We flew a low-level leg on the way to Laughlin, and arrive with plenty of gas for landing.  He requests an instrument approach to the center runway, Rwy 13C, and everything is fine – until we get to the runway.   What the kid doesn’t know is, Rwy 13C ‘ has a significant ‘drop’ to it in the first 1,000 to 1,500 feet!  So, he flies his typical “mechanical’ landing, and when he ‘flares,’ the runway begins to ‘fall away.’  It really was kinda interesting to see.

It didn’t take long before he saw where he was “high” in the flare, and went around.  Okay, we still have fuel for another instrument approach, but that”s about it.

While we are heading back for another approach, he debriefs his initial approach, claiming he ‘flared high,’ not recognizing the actual runway configuration.  In the meantime, I am looking up the frequency for the outside runway I will need if he has to go around again.  It takes 400 pounds to fly an instrument approach in the T-38.  Our minimum fuel, at landing is 600 pounds.  I figure we will have about 700 – 800 pounds remaining if we have to go around.  But, if I take the jet, he’s Unsat at that point…

This time when he flares, the RSU (runway supervisory unit) sends him around!  Swell!  Now I don’t have any choice.  I take the aircraft, and contact the outside runway RSU.

I can’t remember their call-sign, but the radio exchange went something like:  “Reno 17, off the center runway, requests closed.”

The reply was, “Sir, are you familiar with Laughlin’s pattern?”

YGBSM!  But my reply was something like, “Not really, but with 700 pounds of fuel remaining, I can get real familiar, real fast!”

“Cleared Closed,” came the reply, and we (spelled “I”) landed without further incident.

The kid knew he was “toast,” but I kinda played it down.  I wanted to see “what he was made of.”  Was he just going to quit, and roll over?  Or, was he going to suck it up, and continue?

And so we briefed the return leg to Randolph and the flight home was fine.  When we got into the Randolph traffic pattern, I had him fly each of our landing patterns.  A simulated single-engine pattern; two no-flap patterns and a normal full stop pattern.  All of these were fine.  After landing, I took the aircraft and taxied in without saying anything.

In the debrief I asked him if he had ever heard: “…if you haven’t been there, don’t go there,” before?  He told me that he had, but he didn’t think it was that big of a deal.  So I asked him, “Okay, what do you think about that now?”

“Probably a good idea,” he replied in a quiet voice…

We went on to debrief the ride, and I felt he had learned a great deal from the experience.  Yeah, he is “Unsat,” but what is the corrective action?  Have him fly to Laughlin for numerous approaches and landings to Rwy 13C?  How productive is that?  So I told him, “Jim, if you promise not to go to Laughlin for 3 years, I will pass you on this ride.”  He jumped on my offer – and that was that, until 18 months or so later.

I was down int he Auger Inn one night when I felt a tugging on my sleeve.  I turned, and there was Jim…  “Sir, I haven’t been to Laughlin yet,” he said with a broad grin.  WTF, over?  I had forgotten all about the deal.

“Well, I haven’t been to East Bumfuc, Egypt either Lt.- your turn,” I replied.  And then he explained our “contract,” and we both began laughing.

You know, he went on to eventually become an A-10 squadron commander.  It’s nice to know that sometimes, you do make the right calls…

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Flu Shots

Every year in the Air Force, we would have to muster on a Friday afternoon for our annual flu shots.  For the 4 years I was at Vance AFB we would report to the conference room in the 8th FTS (T-37 squadron) for our shots.  The Clinic sent over Med Techs and a duty roster and we would line up for the shots.  I never minded the shots, but bitched anyway because everyone else did.

We usually knocked off flying somewhere around 1500 (3 o’clock) and headed over to the 8th.  After getting the shot we had to hang out for 20 minutes – to see if we had any negative reactions.  A group of us usually waited until 1600 hours for our shots so we could head over to the O’ Club afterwards.  “Happy Hour” began at 1630 on Fridays.

This one year we were running a bit late, but still had to wait our 20 minutes.  I spotted one of our ‘Squadron idiots,’ and came up with a great idea.  He was bitching more than anyone else, and unwittingly fit into my plan.

I went up to one of the Med Techs and pointed out the ‘bitching Captain’ to him.  I told him that he was acting “really bizarre,” and that I was “concerned” about him.  That was all it took.  They were on him like ‘white on rice!’  As the Med Techs were getting the ‘bitching Captain’ to lay down, the rest of us made our break – and no one was the wiser!  Ya gotta love it!

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