“Charlie-Mikes”

Posted on 20/09/2011 by Bobo

I would much rather face a 7-level North Vietnamese anti-aircraft gunner than a “Charlie-Mike” – any day! 

A “Charlie-Mike” is a mother between say, 25 and 38, of a darling little kid who attends the Lial Catholic school just around the corner from me – a ‘Catholic Mom,’ if you will.  In the half-hour before school, until 5 minutes after classes begin, and the 15 minutes before school lets out, until 15 minutes after release, they are lethal!  I put myself in a self-imposed lock-down during those two periods, for my own self preservation.

I was checking the mail one day out by the road when one came by.  Stupid me!  She was in one of those huge SUVs, like the people on welfare drive, and damn-near took me out.  Of course it wasn’t her fault – she was talking on her cell phone!  The fact that no one was coming from the other direction (so she could move over a bit) didn’t even enter her mind – not much else in there either.

On other occasions, before I wised up, I would drive by the school on occasion, during either ‘drop-off’ or ‘pick up’ times.  Dumb!  “Charlie-Mikes” don’t care if anyone is coming or not; they just pull out in front of ya – knowing you will stop for them.  And they have other things to do, don’t ya know.  So, I find it best to hunker down during those periods, and not subject myself to that hazard.  How embarrassing it would be:  To have survived 35 years of flying, only to be taken out by a “Charlie-Mike,” running late and talking on a cell phone…   

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Tommy and the Stan/Eval Nazi

Posted on 20/09/2011 by Bobo

Tommy was a young FAIP who worked for me in the early ’80s as a T-38 Check Pilot in the 56oth FTS at Randolph Field, TX.  He was a good kid; highly motivated, talented and with a great career ahead of him.  However he chose to take a different ‘road’ – one to the airlines.  Not a thing “wrong” with that, his choice.  I just hated to loose him…

A couple months before he left he had an Instrument Check due.  And, as luck would have it he drew the resident “Stan/Eval Nazi” as his evaluator.  I didn’t particularly care for that guy myself, as I had flown with him earlier and thought he was a “chicken-shit” evaluator.  But, be that as it may, off they went.

When Tommy returned a while later I was on duty as the SOF, (Supervisor of Flying).  “How did it go?” I asked when he signed in.

“Not so good Boss,” Tommy replied, “I think I dumped one in the over-run.”  (Landed short). 

“Don’t worry about it,” I said as I picked up our “hot line” to the RSU (Runway Supervisory Unit).  Tommy left for the debriefing.

I can’t remember who was on duty at the RSU that day but I asked him if he had any comments for Tommy’s call sign.  “Yeah Boss,” the noted, “he dumped one in the over-run.”

“How bad? I asked.

“About 3-4 feet,” the controller replied.

I knew this would be indefensible from the Stan/Eval Nazi’s view so I said, “Okay, here’s the deal.  If there are no comments next to Tommy’s call sign when you come in, there will be a cold case of beer, of your choice, for you when you get in.”

I think his reply was something like, “No problem Boss; Bud Light.”

I no sooner hung up when the Stan/Eval Nazi showed up at the SOF desk.  However, instead of saying something to me, he went over to another phone we had, and called the RSU himself.  I overheard him ask about Tommy’s landing and saw that he was genuinely disappointed when the controller reported that it was on the runway!  He then hung up, hesitated a moment in thought, then started out of the area.

“Is there a problem Captain ‘Schmuckenfuss?'” I asked.  I wasn’t going to let him off easy.

He knew right away he had just committed a breach of etiquette by using the RSU phone without asking for permission.  We just didn’t do that.

He then told me that he thought that the guy he was flying with had landed in the overrun, and was calling to confirm.  I didn’t want to “light him up” too much as I didn’t want to either draw too much attention to the event, nor did I want him take it out on Tommy.  I just wanted him know I was in charge of the operation at the time, and that he had breached a “courtesy.”  It worked; he walked away like a scolded puppy.

And so, what do I think of it today; almost some 30+ years later?  I chuckle to myself that I got away with it!  And that Tommy left the Air Force with an impeccable flying record intact.  In retrospect that 2-3 feet wasn’t a big deal – covering your “wingman’s six, is.”    

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David A. Maass, square black nails, and Joe

Posted on 18/09/2011 by Bobo

I wouldn’t have a clue who David A. Maass is – but he sure as hell puts out a great can!  I have 3 of his cans, with pheasants on them.  The pheasants are in early flight, with an old barn behind them.  The scene looks like it is in the Fall.  The cans are just beautiful. 

I had seen them sitting in Joe’s pole barn last summer when we were building his deer stand.  I had made a simple comment about how nice they looked, and then forgot about ’em.  About a week or so after I returned home, they showed up in the mail… go figure!  I then took them out to my shop, knowing I would find a use for them in time.  And this morning, it came to me.

I was out there earlier, working on a couple things and using my square black nails.  I love those nails as they take me back to our pioneer days – a simpler time.  They really add a certain charm to a project.  Anyway, I was pulling them out of the box when I spotted the David A. Maass cans, just sitting there.  Ah ha!  Why not use the cans Joe gave to me for the square black nails?  Done.

I love working in my wood shop.  It’s a “quiet place” for me where I ‘spend time’ with folks as I build things for them; and it’s a time for me to commune with my God.  Now, as I reach for a square black nail, my mind pauses in gratitude for the days I hunted pheasants; for an appreciation for the craftsmanship of the early woodworkers and for a great relationship I have with my friend Joe…

I also am grateful for David A. Maass – for making those cans.     

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Exactly …

Posted on 18/09/2011 by Bobo

This is the true joy of life, the being used for a purpose
— recognized by yourself as the mighty one.

The being a force of nature, instead of a feverish,
selfish little clod of ailments and grievances
— complaining that the world
will not devote itself to making you happy.

I am of the opinion that my life
belongs to the whole community,
and as long as I live in it,
it is my rivelege to do whatever I can.

I want to be throughly used up when I die,
for the harder I work, the more I love.

I rejoice in life for its own sake.

Life is no brief candle to me.

It is a sort of splendid torch which
I’ve got a hold of for the moment,
and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible
before handing it on to future generations.

— George Bernard Shaw

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“FAIPs” – First Assignment Instructor Pilots

Posted on 16/09/2011 by Bobo

Air Training Command (ATC) tended to “eat it’s young.” We would bring back a certain number of recent UPT grads as instructor pilots (IPs). There was both ‘good,’ and bad’ with this practice. We used to refer to these guys as “Plow-backs,” until one of them became ‘offended” with the term. Can’t have that now, can we?

On the positive side, a young kid coming back as an IP got to fly every day. This is so important in a young aviator’s career. In addition, being a young kid, the FAIP could “relate” to students a lot easier than perhaps a prior service guy. And it was fun having them around; they were often highly motivated, generally good pilots, innocent, and willing to do most anything.

Other than their obvious ‘lack of experience’ with “the real Air Force,” the only drawback I ever saw was that they tended to be myopic at times, with their grading practices – especially in the beginning of their careers. Gary Green once observed, “The Air Training Command First Assignment IP knows relatively little about the whole US Air Force flying environment, but in great detail.” How true…

That being said, all-in-all, I enjoyed working with these folks…

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Air Training Command Check Rides

Posted on 16/09/2011 by Bobo

In Air Training Command (ATC) we didn’t put ‘bombs on target.’ We didn’t do any aerial refueling. We didn’t haul any stinking cargo – but we did take check rides! Gawd, did we ever!
By regulation, we were required to take at least two check rides every year; an annual instrument and then, an annual contact (basic flying) check ride. ATC then added 2-ship and 4-ship formation check rides, navigation check rides and simulator check rides to the mix; as well as no-notice ground evals. This can wear you out; taking and giving check rides! And, if you’re fortunate enough to become an RSU (Runway Supervisor Unit) Controller, you were also entitled to an RSU check ride. I had ’em all.

The maneuvers we flew were pretty straight forward and for the most part, grading fairly ‘objective.’ However, every now and then we would get some free spirits in Stan/Eval or Check Section who tended to become more ‘subjective’ in their grading practices. You wanted to avoid those guys. They saw debriefings as their way to express “creative expression” for career enhancement.

For the most part, all my check rides were fair. However, I did have a couple that were “challenging;” more often in the debriefing than the air. The key here was to know how and when to express “deep concern,” even though you really might not give a shit. This was a fine art, and in the end, I was up for an Academy Award for my expression of ‘grave concern,’ while being debriefed for being 5 knots ‘hot’ (fast) on the top of a loop. Like, “really?” Oh, no…

An integral part of any check ride was the ground eval. Think of it as, “Stump the Dummy.” These could be brutal. If you faltered on a reply, or were unsure or confused with respect to an answer, you could be accessed with a “hazy.” I was awarded several “hazys” over the years… and again, you had to be careful here; you didn’t want to collect too many “hazys.”

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“My fine friend; my good friend…”

Posted on 08/09/2011 by Bobo

There’s a scene from “Lonesome Dove” where Gus, played by Robert Duvall, is saying goodbye to the Xavier, the local saloon keeper.  Gus and the boys are about to set off on a cattle drive from South Texas to Montana.  For me it’s kind of a sad scene – Xavier and Gus saying goodbye… Yet at the same time, it’s a very “intimate” scene.

They finish their drinks and stand up.  Xavier takes Gus’ hand and says, “Goodbye my fine friend…”  Gus, in return, replies, “Goodbye to you, my good friend.”

I first saw “Lonesome Dove” when it came out, in 1989.  And I watch it almost every year now, in the winter.  There is such “power” in that scene, that it has resonated with me ever since I first saw it…

So, when I say to you,  “Good Morning, my fine friend,” or “Good by to you, my good friend,” know that it comes from the depths of my being; that I value you, and I treasure you as my friend…

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Ever Wonder What a Chicken Thinks?

Posted on 07/09/2011 by Bobo

I built a chicken coop when I retired.  I typically have between 8 and 10 hens out there at any given time.

I enjoy sitting out there, with my coffee, just watching them…

Someone once saw one of my chickens doing this or that out there and asked, “What do you think the chicken thinks about that?”  I looked at my visitor and thought to myself,  “Really?”

Then I recalled the night I went out there to check on them, and found them all sleeping on the door of the coop.

And why would I want to concern myself with what a chicken thinks?

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Philosophy 101

Posted on 06/09/2011 by Bobo

(This category, “Philosophy,” is one that I am going to use to share the philosophies that have guided my life.  I have quite a few of them that I have acquired over the years; that have “guided” me on my journey.  I often find them enlightening, encouraging, and thought provoking.  I offer them for you to take from them what you will…)

This is one of the earliest ones I picked up in UPT (Undergraduate Pilot Training), in 1970/’71.  It still resonates deep within me…

The Troop Who Rode One In

We should all bear one thing in mind when we talk about a troop who rode one in.

He called upon the sum of all his knowledge and made a judgement.  He believed in it so strongly that he knowingly bet his life on it.

That he was mistaken in his judgement is a tragedy… not stupidity.  Every supervisor and contemporary who ever spoke to him had an opportunity to influence his judgement.

…and so a little bit of all of us goes in with every troop we lose.

Author Unknown

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Proud of Your Kids? Tell them…

Posted on 06/09/2011 by Bobo

I grew up continually seeking “approval” from ‘Dear Ole Dad.’  It seems I could never do enough.  I would work my ass off for hours on end, just hoping for a small nod of approval.  Never came.  Didn’t stop me from trying even harder…

Mom would often tell me that she would overhear Dad tell the ‘rum-dums’ at the bar how proud he was of me.  That seemed to make it even worse; why couldn’t he ever tell me?

It wasn’t until I got sober that I realized, ‘it wasn’t me,’ it was him.  He was incapable of expressing any feelings to others, let alone his son!  What a revelation that was, to know it wasn’t ‘my fault.’

So, what do I take from it all?  Simple:  Never miss an opportunity to tell your kids how proud you are of them.  If you haven’t told them recently, then what are you waiting for?

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