Art is Sensitive, You Know…

Posted on 21/12/2012 by Bobo

Earlier this week Tommy came by.

Tommy worked for me in 1983-’84 as a T-38 Check Pilot.  It was great to see him and we talked nonstop for nearly two days!  I don’t know if there is anything more precious to me than good friends…

As we talked several people from our pasts surfaced.  One of them was Lisa D., a check airman at Northwest Airlines (NWA).  I flew with her on my Initial Operating Experience (IOE) following my Boeing 757 initial training in September 1995.

Lisa always came across as very “straight-laced,” almost “uptight.”  Some might interpret her demeanor as “professional” and become intimidated by her.  I wasn’t.  I actually enjoyed my training with her.

At the end of our 3-day trip I asked her if she was finished (flying) also.  She told me she had another IOE to administer, to Art K.  As it turned out, Art was a B-757 classmate of mine, and a great guy.  Also former Air Force.  Lisa then asked me ‘what he was like,’ and I walked through that door with reckless abandon!

“Oh,” I began, “he’s a great guy, you will enjoy flying with him.  There is however, one thing he is kinda sensitive about.”

“What’s that,” she asked, taking the bait.

“Well,” I continued, “he becomes real sensitive when people stare at his glass eye.”  And she took it!  “It is so ‘real looking’ that it is very hard to detect,” I said.  I then saw her retreat into deep reflection.

“I didn’t think you could fly with just one eye,” she challenged.

“Well, usually, you can’t,” I countered.  “However, he had ‘bags’ of flying experience when he lost it, so acquiring an FAA waiver wasn’t that hard for him.  And it hasn’t presented any problems for him since.”  And I dropped it.

She reflected a bit more, then resigned that it did indeed, make sense.  So, we wished each other ‘good luck,’ and parted.  As I was walking up the jet bridge I met Art on his way down.  We exchanged pleasantries, and he asked me what it was like to fly with Lisa.

I told him I had no problems with her at all, except that I thought she tended to stare at me a bit more than usual…but maybe it was juts my imagination.  And with that, I left them to their own.

A few months later Art and I ran into each other in Detroit.  We chatted a bit, then he asked me, “What did you tell Lisa about me?”  By that time I had forgotten all about it all; then I began laughing!

“Oh, I just told her you were ‘sensitive’ about your glass eye!”

“You asshole,” he replied, “she just kept staring at me, and staring at me, and staring at me – until I finally asked her if I was doing something ‘wrong!'”  Oh, I can only imagine… LOL!

Apparently after a while they both figured it out, and had a nice ‘laugh’ over it all!  And with the “feedback,” so did I!

A few months later I ran into Lisa – and as much as she hated to admit it, she acknowledged that I pulled off ‘a good one’ on her.  She went on to tell me that she ‘bought it’ because she couldn’t even imagine anyone pulling something like that on her, on a check ride!  Well, she didn’t know me…

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YGBSM…

Posted on 15/12/2012 by Bobo

Have you ever wondered who first uttered the phrase

“You Gotta Be Shittin Me?”

Well, it just so happens to have originated through the Father of Our country, way back when George Washington was crossing the Delaware River with his troops.

There were 33 (remember this number) in Washington ‘s boat.  It was extremely dark and storming furiously, and the water was tossing them about.

Finally, Washington grabbed Corporal Peters and stationed him at the front of the boat with a lantern.  He ordered him to keep swinging it, so they could see where they were heading.

Corporal Peters, through driving rain and cold, continued swinging the lantern back and forth, back and forth.

Then a big gust of wind and a wave hit and threw Corporal Peters and his lantern into the Delaware.  Washington and his troops searched for nearly an hour trying to find Corporal Peters, but to no avail.  All of them felt terrible, for the Corporal had been one of their favorites.

Sometime later, Washington and his troops landed on the other side; wet, cold and totally exhausted.  He rallied the troops and told them that they must go on.

Another hour later, one of his men said, ‘General, I see lights ahead.’  They trudged toward the lights and came upon a huge house.

What they didn’t know was that this was a house of ‘horizontal refreshment,’ hidden in the forest to serve all who came.

General Washington pounded on the door, his men crowding around him.

The door swung open, and much to his surprise stood a beautiful woman..

A huge smile came across her face, to see so many men standing there.

Washington was the first to speak, “Madam, I am General George Washington and these are my men.  We are tired, wet, cold, exhausted, and desperately need warmth and comfort.”

Again, the Madam looked at all the men standing there, and with a broad
smile on her face, said, “Well, General, you have come to the right place.

We can surely give you warmth and comfort.  How many men do you have?”

Washington replied, “Well, Madam, there are 32 of us without Peters .”

And the Madam said, “You gotta be shittin’ me!”

…and now, you know it…

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Gramma Holliker’s Christmas Lebkuchen Cookies…

Posted on 14/12/2012 by Bobo

For years upon years I remember my Grandmother making Lebkuchen Christmas cookies.  They have a ‘unique’ spicy taste that I now associate with Christmas.  After Gram got too old, Mom picked up the task.  Then when Mom gave it up, the duty somehow fell to me to make them.  I actually enjoy making them – and so continuing the tradition…

I began ‘building’ them in 1998.  Mom told me that they are so much better if they sit for about two weeks – to ‘soak up’ the spice flavors.    So, I typically set aside a Sunday in early December for baking.  Green Bay playing in the background seems to help the time pass!  This is Gram’s recipe:

1Lb.  Light Brown Sugar
1Pt. Light Karo Syrup
2 Eggs
1 1/2 Tsp Vinegar
1/2 Tsp Cinnamon
1/4 Tsp Ground Cloves
1/2 Tsp Lemon Juice
1 1/2 Tsp Baking Soda dissolved in a small amount of hot water (about 1/3 Cup).

Mix all above ingredients with mixer.

Add 1 Cup of chopped nuts (I use walnuts).

Add heaps of flour until very stiff.  I usually stir until the tears begin to flow freely from my eyes…

(Before I begin the actual baking, I like to take a handful of flour and just heave it throughout the kitchen.  That seems to relieve any anxiety I might have about making a mess…)

I begin adding flour in the mixer, then when it gets rather thick, I continue ‘by hand.’  Plan to use about 5 cups or so…

Roll out on a floured board and cut with a cookie cutter.  Then bake on a parchment paper lined cookie sheet.  Bake at 425 degrees for 8 minutes.  When I take them out of the oven, I allow them to cool for about 8 – 10 minutes on the cookie sheet.

For the frosting:

6 Tbsp of Butter
4 1/2 to 4 3/4 Cups of Powdered Sugar
1/4 Cup of Milk
1 1/2 Tsp Vanilla

In a small mixing bowl, beat the butter until light and fluffy.  Gradually add about 1/2 of the powdered sugar, beating well.  Then add the milk and vanilla.  Gradually add the remaining powdered sugar (adding a bit more milk if necessary.)  It will usually take about 3-4 batches to frost all the cookies.  Top the cookies with a walnut half before the frosting sets.

When the frosting is set, place the cookies in Christmas tins, with wax paper between layers.  Then add 1 slice of white bread before closing.

I will usually hold on to them for a week or so before handing them out.  I have found most folks can’t wait the two weeks for them to age!  LOL!

The first year I made them I took a few up to Beth at the Post Office.  I have known Beth since we were kids.  Beth was kinda busy that day, but she took time to open the tin.  She looked at the cookies, then her eyes lit up.  “Oh my God,” she exclaimed, “Gramma Holliker’s Christmas cookies!”

My eyes immediately flooded with tears as we stood there…

This year I began building them on 8 Dec. at 0615, and I finished at 1745 or so.  Now I didn’t spent the entire 12 hours building cookies – I took a couple-3 “union breaks.”  And this year I made 3 batches, yielding 200 cookies!

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One of the things that I wondered about this year was, who will make them after I ‘mort out?’  Or will this ‘tradition’ die with me?  Who knows…

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My Turn to Speak…

Posted on 13/12/2012 by Bobo

A few years ago I was invited to speak at a Dining Out at a Reserve Unit in Colorado.

(For those of you who do not know what a ‘Dining Out’ is, it is a formal military dinner, with a featured speaker.  A ‘Dining Out’ is where spouses are invited; a ‘Dining In’ is typically for military members only.  These are very formal functions, and you just don’t “screw around” at them.  This being said, usually after the dinner are the “informal activities,” and things become a little ‘looser.’)

A friend of my daughter’s was looking for a speaker with Vietnam experience.  I didn’t fly over there for a whole year during the hostilities, but I was in and out a few times as a C-141A pilot.  That seemed to be ‘good enough’ for Dana’s friend.

So I went out for the event and took Dana as my ‘escort’ through the Arch of Honor.

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Now, I have been to 12 – 15 Dining In’s/Dining Out’s over the years, so I was very familiar with the protocol.  When I was introduced, I took the podium and just stood there…

DSC_0026And, I stood there – looking out over the guests from that perspective.  It was really quite something, to see all those people sitting there.  And I stood there for a bit more until I saw where they were beginning to get a bit ‘restless.’  Then I then began.

After my ‘formal introductory remarks,’ I said something like; “Folks, it is truly an honor to stand here before you tonight.  I have been to 12 to 15 of these functions over the years, but have never seen one from this perspective – from the podium.  And I just wanted to stand here a moment, and savor the experience.”  Of course, that comment got a laugh, and I knew I ‘had ’em.’  I then continued with my opening remarks, “I don’t know exactly what I am going to say this evening; I was not able to bring my teleprompter on the aircraft coming out here.”  (Another laugh.)  I then began speaking on what it was like being in the service during the Vietnam conflict.

I spoke for about 10 minutes or so, perhaps a bit ‘short’ for a Dining Out, and I thought I had said enough.  And I spoke “off the cuff,” as I am prone to do in these occasions.  I don’t remember exactly what I said but I do remember thinking later that I wished I had jotted down some salient points that I had thought about earlier.  I do however, remember my closing remarks.

I mentioned that I had been an “Air Force Brat;” Dear Ole Dad had been in the Air Force.  I then took it from there to explain that I a nice ‘house’ in NW Ohio that was slowly becoming a ‘home.’  “But,” I said, “it isn’t until I drive through the gate of an Air Force base, or I am in the company like I am tonight, that I actually ‘feel’ at home.  And so, in closing, I want to thank your commander and the folks who invited me to speak this evening – and most of all, you folks, for allowing me ‘to come home’ tonight, even if it was for just a little bit.  I am truly honored, and humbled.”  And with that, and being a little ‘choked up,’ I sat down…

As I ‘debriefed myself’ later, I did think of a few things I wished I had said.  But I didn’t dwell too long on them as there was nothing to come of it.  This morning I am grateful I had the opportunity to speak at that function, and I remain humbled that they asked me… And today my home continues to grow as a “home,” especially when the jets from out at the base fly overhead…

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Ever Been Thrown Out of a Tailor Shop?

Posted on 11/12/2012 by Bobo

Have you ever been thrown out of a tailor shop?  I have; but it wasn’t my fault…

In 1981 I was stationed at Canberra, Australia – as a Flight Safety Officer for the Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF.)   That summer I had the opportunity to travel to RAAF bases in Malaysia and Singapore – to ‘observe RAAF operations in the tropics.’  Worked for me!  In addition, the RAAF put Sue on orders so she could accompany me.  How cool was that?

Anyway, part of the deal was, I was given a $200 clothing allowance since I was traveling to a tropical region in the dead of the Australian winter.  Well, okay.  The only caveat was, I had to show where I bought clothes within the first week or so upon arrival in the tropics.  Not a problem.

So this one morning I found myself in this upscale Indian tailor’s shop in Singapore.  As was the custom, beer was provided while shopping.  Well, okay.

I soon found a nice British woolen fabric that I thought would look nice on me.  Charcoal grey with thin pinstripes.  Very conservative in nature.  And I really liked the feel of the material.  After all the measurements were taken, and a ‘few’ more beers, I was asked if I had any other requests.  Well, since he mentioned it; yes, I did.  I asked him if he could orient the pinstripes horizontally, vs. vertically when he built the suit!

At first, when he thought I was joking, he laughed right along with me. Then when he figured out I was serious, he took away my beer, and threw me out of his shop!  Absolutely no sense of humor!

Once you get over the initial “chuckle” here, think for a moment about how much fun a suit like that could have been at some “stuff shirt, mandatory-fun” party we are all called upon to attend upon occasion.  And to wear such a suit as if there was nothing “wrong!”  I think I could have sent a few folks into a serious case of the vapors with it.  But no – I was tossed out of his shop!

And not my fault?  Oh no, it was the beer the tailor gave me!  LOL…

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I’d Like To, But My DO Won’t Let Me…

Posted on 10/12/2012 by Bobo

In the mid-eighties we were experiencing a higher than normal rate of T-38 wheel brake wear.  The T-38 typically lands at 130 knots, about 150 mph.  That’s if you are actually “on speed.”  Without anti-skid, and operating at high ambient temperatures, this put a great deal of wear on our brakes.

At Randolph Field, on Runway 14L, we had a taxiway adjacent to the tower, about 2/3 down the runway. This is depicted as “A4” on the field diagram below.

During the summer a lot of us would “get on the brakes” a bit to turn off on A4 – to cut down on the taxi time back to parking.  If you landed ‘on speed,’ within the first hundred feet of runway, it usually wasn’t a problem.  The problem came when guys landed ‘long,’ then really got on the brakes to make the turn off.  This would usually “smoke the brakes,” causing them to warp and be rendered unserviceable.

At first our DO, our Director of Operations, put out the word not to attempt to make “A4” if we landed either too long or too “hot,” with too high of a ground speed.  Okay, makes sense.  No problem.  Except for that “10%” – the 10% that never seems ‘to get the word.’  We continued to have some guys who ignored the DO’s guidance, and we continued to have warped brakes.  So then DO prohibited guys from turning off at A4!

A lot of guys really had problems with that as often they were at taxi speed as they approached A4 upon landing.  And the policy annoyed me also – we were all being “punished” because of the actions of a few.  Isn’t this always the case?

Then one day Tommy came in to land.  Tommy was one of my IPs in Check Section.  On this particular day Tommy landed on speed, at “brick one,” and was at taxi speed as he approached A4.  The Tower upon seeing this, gave him permission to clear (the runway) at A4.  Tommy’s reply was something like, “I’d like to, but my DO won’t let me,” and he continued to the end.

I wouldn’t have known anything about the incident had I not been invited in for a “cold cup of coffee.”   This is where you are invited in by your boss for a cup of coffee, and by the time he finishes chewing your ass, the coffee is cold!  Crap!  Oh well…

After that, I took a perverse sense of delight in landing on speed, and slowing to taxi speed by A4 – without ‘smoking the brakes!’  It could be done.  Then if offered “A4,” I would just rely, “Unable” – and taxi to the end… My passive-aggressiveness on steroids.  Oh well…

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Mom’s ‘White-Bread’ Christmas Cookies

Posted on 08/12/2012 by Bobo

Every year now I make Lebkuchen cookies sometime in the first week of December.  Before I began making them in 1998, Mom used to make them every year – and before her, Gram would make them.  They are somewhat ‘labor intensive,’ and very good!  (Now I make them…)

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Soon after the cookies come out of the oven, they are hard as rocks.  This is natural, for some reason, or another.  To soften them, you put a piece of bread in the cookie tin and after a day or so, they are nice and soft.  Magic!

One year when Mom made them, she gave a dozen to my friend Joe.  I first met Joe when he was a student at Vance AFB.  Then we caught up with each other again when I went through T-38 PIT (Pilot Instructor Training).  Joe and I then became very close friends…

So, Mom gives Joe a dozen cookies.  Then one day she finds an large envelope in her mailbox addressed to her.  When she opens it, a piece of bread, with a large bite out of it, falls out.  Looking further into the envelope she finds a note:

“Mrs. Holliker,  Your ‘White-Bread Christmas cookies” taste like shit.  I don’t know if anyone else you have given them to has the courage to tell you, but I do…  I think you might want to look at that recipe a little closer.  Your friend, Joe”

Mom took it all in good stride, and as far as I know; and Joe never got any more cookies!  LOL!

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My Favorite Christmas Carol…

Posted on 08/12/2012 by Bobo

This is my favorite Christmas carol.  I hope it “comes through” for you…

The Littlest Angel

I heard it long, long ago, and it “spoke to me” with such purity.  It took me right down to my core then, as it does today.  Put me beyond and above everything else in Life.

There are times, this time of the year, when I retreat deep into this simple little song; there are moments I set aside to sit and reflect upon the words of this song – and let the tears flow as freely as they will… for there are moments when I think I have nothing else but a small wooden box of my treasures, and my faithful dog – even though I know better, for I am so blessed…

Posted in Sobriety | 1 Comment

The Randolph AFB Menudo Cookoff

Posted on 07/12/2012 by Bobo

The Randolph AFB “Daily Bulletin” (DB) was published three times a week to let folks know what was going on around base.

It had two sections: an “Official” and the “Unofficial” sections.  The Official section was used to announce “official” events like job postings, change of commands, awards ceremonies, etc.  The unofficial section was used more or less, for ‘social’ events, athletic events, youth activities and so forth.

On 17 Jun 1987 the following announcement was published in the Unofficial section of the DB:

This is the description of ‘menudo:’

“Menudo is a traditional Mexican soup made with beef stomach in a clear broth or with a red chili base. Usually, lime, chopped onions, and chopped cilantro are added, as well as crushed oregano and crushed red chili peppers.

Menudo is usually eaten with tortillas or other breads, such as bolillo. It is often chilled and reheated, which results in a more concentrated flavor. The popularity of menudo in Mexico is such that Mexico is a major export market for stomach tripe from US and Canadian beef producers.”

Sounds appetizing, doesn’t it?

I didn’t do this.  Would have, had I thought about it, but, I didn’t…  However, it wasn’t long before I received a call from “Ms. Jean Rose” (pseudo name) accusing me of doing it.  And he was on fire!

Until he called I didn’t realize how many calls ‘Ms. Jean Rose’ received from Hispanics around the base – hoping to enter the contest!  Seems everyone was roped in…

Now a note about “Ms. Jean Rose.”  He was a pompous little ass-kisser.  He was ‘little,’ pompous and an ass-kisser.  I had had a couple run-ins with him before.  He graduated from the Air Force Academy and was commissioned a day earlier than me.  And he continually reminded me of who “out-ranked” who!  As if I ever gave a shit!  And so, on and on he went, until I had heard enough, and hung up.  Nothing more ever came of it, until two days later:

Why do I save this stuff?  So I can write about it in my blog here, and have yet another “giggle” at “Ms. Jean Rose’s” expense!

 

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Chief of Check Section

Posted on 07/12/2012 by Bobo

I was the Chief of Check Section in the 560th FTS from 9 Jun 1983 through 27 Dec 1984.  The function of Check Section was to administer quality control check rides to our ‘trainees.’  (We couldn’t call the trainees ‘students’ because it wasn’t ‘politically correct.’  One of the ‘trainees’ was offended at one time or another because, after all, he was an officer, and he was a ‘rated pilot!’  Well, okay…  I was okay with being a ‘student’ when I qualified in the jet as an IP – I was just too happy at the time going through a program to be a T-38 Instructor Pilot (IP) to be too concerned with what ‘they’ called me.  I was more concerned with being an T-38 IP than being the champion of a social expression!  Anyway…)

In 1984 I began to see a ‘transition’ in the standards we held.  It seemed we were becoming ‘more liberal’ in our grading practices – we (as a squadron) were training to a lower standard to reduce the “bust” or wash-out rate.  And I had a problem with that!  I saw lowering my standards as a betrayal to the standards set for me by my IPs.  And I wasn’t really ready to compromise… So, during my tenure as the Chief of Check Section, we held to a fairly high level of proficiency – both in grading the trainees in flying skills and in instructor capabilities.  And I was continually questioned in staff meetings about our “bust rate.”

My check pilots knew I backed them, and they appreciated it.  One day I showed up at work to find this on my desk:

The cartoon depicts our Director of Operations (DO) at the time, standing with a ‘poor trainee,’ to identify the draconian check pilot who failed him on a check ride!  Funny guys, real funny!  LOL…

Did we wash out anyone who “could have” been a T-38 IP?  Maybe.  Probably.  Who knows?  But for the constraints we had – the number of rides allotted by the syllabus – I think we my check pilots did an outstanding job.

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