Flight Engineer

Everything at North Central Airlines was amazing.  They actually had one of their airliners decked out as a cooperate style aircraft with a luxury cabin.  This was for the Board,  and the top execs.  It was a Convair 580.  The paint job was in the North Central colors.  But very subdued.  Just some modest thin stripes.  And the Mallard Duck logo not on the tail like the line 580's,  but discreetly on the forward fuselage by the main door.  The pilots assigned to fly the cooperate 580 were regular line pilots.  The duck logo was the most recognized in the industry.  The duck had a name.  "Herman".  

I had applied to most of the major airlines.  This was in 1978.  I wasn't getting interviews.  My resume was pretty much the story of a light plane pilot.  I had lots of hours.  But only my DC-3 time set me apart from the CFI's with college degrees.   You had to be in a three piece suit.  You had to have your log books,  You had to have a four year degree.  You had to have an ATP.  You had to have your hair cut.  You had to know somebody.  You had to have the "Flight Engineer written" passed.  I had everything.  Except I didn't know anyone.  And airlines like Delta and American were hiring military pilots with "Jet Time".  Not civilians like me. 

There was a company called "Flight International" doing different things.  Charters.  Government contracts.  Overseas endeavors.  One day I saw a little tiny ad in "Trade a Plane" or "AOPA Pilot" or something.  The ad offered a Flight Engineer Rating for $2995.  From Flight International in Atlanta.  Must be a missprint.  I thought.  Don't get me wrong,  in 1978 $3K was a lot of money.  But an FE Turbojet rating usually went for four times that.  Well it wasn't a missprint.  Flight International had lost it's VA approval and could no longer train the veterans that were getting the airline jobs.  So they needed cash.  And they had the waiver which allowed the Flight Engineer ticket to be issued without the student ever being in a full blown motion simulator.  I got my FE "ticket" .  All my "simulator time" was in a "procedures trainer".  One that Delta used to get their students ready for the real simulator.  This "paper trainer" was the meat of the course.  I had to take the "oral" from the FAA in Atlanta.  I had to do a "walk around" with the school examiner.  This was the same day as my checkride in the B727-100 which was a Federal Express aircraft.  My hop around the pattern in the engineers seat was a blur.

I updated all my applications with my new FE rating.  The interview offers started coming like crazy in the mail.  There was no e mail.  There were no cell phones.  I went to nine interviews in 1978.  World, Braniff, American,  Delta,  Northwest,  Federal Express, United, etc.  Now I had the interviews,  but no offers.

It's true,  I didn't know anybody.  But somehow I seemed to fit with North Central.  I had done a lot of flying out of Ypsilanti, next to Detroit.  I was used to seeing those 580's and DC-9's with the duck on the tail.  I was tired of the cattle calls and three piece suits and WWII aircrew selection tests.  When I went up to Minneapolis I had shed the polyester.  I had my blue wool blazer which was probably the only piece of quality clothing I owned.   The moment I got on the DC-9 at BWI,  I could tell that this airline,  North Central Airlines, was different.  Everyone was nice.  Everyone was recommending to me that I come to work there,  because it is nice.  And there was a big merger coming.  Southern Airways will merge with North Central bringing to the party it's fleet of DC-9's and it's Atlanta hub.  The new airline would be called "Republic". 

Downstairs at headquarters my personnel interview went fine.  Upstairs even better.  Just me and the Flight Ops guy.  In the empty company board room.  After a few pleasantries he said "Lloyd,  tell me about the DC-3."   So I did,  and he told me about  his first job at North Central. As co-pilot on the DC-3.  I listened. North Central retired it's highest time DC-3 and donated it to the Ford Museum in Dearborn where it still resides.

As I rode home from Minneapolis to Baltimore with my positive space pass,  I  knew this was the best interview I had ever had.  North Central had just ordered it's first 727's.  They weren't on the property yet. I had a turbojet engineer rating.  North Central had just begun service to DCA out of Detroit and Minneapolis.  I was from Washington, DC.  All the Captains I would fly with at North Central had flown DC-3's.  I had a DC-3 type rating.  North Central was hiring a lot of civilian pilots due to the 580's and the operating into smaller towns like Hibbing,  Oshkosh, etc.  I was a civilian.

Up in the loft of my hanger in a box gathering dust is the wall style,  rotary,  yellow,  kitchen phone from my parents house.  The phone on which I was offered employment as a pilot with North Central Airlines.  The same phone that ten years before I had been called on to tell me that I had passed, on the final try,  the third and last chance try,  the exams to complete the Spaatz Award.  This was the completion of the Civil Air Patrol Cadet Program.  This would be comparable to "Eagle Scout".

Why did I save that phone?   Because I'm a pack rat?  Yes I am.  But I'm sentimental.

Good Morning

I have blogger's block.  Either I can't write,  or I simply haven't done anything to write about.  Yes all winter I did little to occupy myself.  But when Spring came,  there seemed to be a flurry of activity.  I bought a "light sport" aircraft.  Not a new $150K "light sport".  An old classic $20K light sport. Last Friday I flew around a bit in my "new" old airplane with a mentor who is an instructor to get "checked out".  While I was trying to figure out how I was going to pay for that airplane;  this last weekend I went to two car shows.  I took my beater VW to a Kent Island car show on Saturday.   Then Sunday I took my beater TR6 to a car show in Easton.  I tried to rest up from that.  Then on Tuesday I left for Asheville driving.  Driving wife's car fortunately..  It is sweet.  Then a couple days in A-ville.  I got to play on the stage at my buddy's Cantina and I sang a song called "Motorsickle Bill".  Drove home through the mountains in gorgeous weather.  One short night's sleep and went to New Jersey with my buddy while he picked up his car.  Again gorgeous weather.  Road trips over,  and ready to fly the little "Luscombe",  but now the weather is stormy.  And I'm getting behind on the mowing.

Today I woke up with nothing planned to do.  Of course I have a lot of things I could or should do.  But there was nothing I had to "go" to and no time to be somewhere.  It's a stormy Tuesday with no agenda.  The sun keeps peeking out at intervals.  I could try to wax that little plane for Saturday's Horn Point Fly-in.  If it doesn't get too wet there are a lot of chores.  I have correspondence I should attend to.  The hangar is a complete mess.  And lots of other projects.  Wife would like a yard of mulch for her new garden.

I liked the way my wake up went this morning.  When I got up I wasn't compelled.  I was wondering what I might wind up doing today.  I didn't expect I'd be writing to you.  I didn't expect to see the sun.  I like it this way.  It's less stressful.  They say not getting enough sleep may be the cause of the obesity epidemic.  So I wrote to you.  Now what shall I do?  I'm  leaning toward getting that mulch and maybe a cheeseburger on the way home.  I'm to be very busy Friday and Saturday.  But tomorrow......and hopefully for most days... nothing planned.  I don't think I'll shave,  but I guess I better get dressed.

Peace you guys.     LLITTY     ::::+::::

Spring Fever

Perspective. All of our relations with others start with this. All of our insights about anything start with this. I always forget to remember perspective. Life has a way of slapping me when I let myself get lazy about it. We had zero snow this winter on Delmarva. But they got hammered in the upper midwest. I read an article about a guy who was lucky to survive after being stranded in snow drifts in his car. He stayed in his car for something like three days, and was found and rescued by some pretty skilled responders. So one day the guy is driving along on a snowy day thinking about his agenda. His itinerary. The next day he has been trapped for 24 hours and his fuel is getting low and he is likely going to die. Sitting in his car with a wholly different perspective. A week ago I was having a series of wonderful days in the sunshine. Mowing. Smelling wild onions. Thinking about my upcoming trip to Asheville to hang out with the pros from Dover and sing at an "open mike" at the pub owned by one of the pros. A trip so good, I was forgoing a shot at Lakeland, Fla. The place all aviators want to visit every early spring. But before I even packed my bag for Asheville something happened. I found I had no energy and I laid down to rest and found it harder and harder to get up. This went on for two days. Then on day three my gastro- intestinal system went awry and I had a real bad night. In the middle of the worst I was delirious. And I was stumbling trying to get to the bathroom. I wanted water. Water. I had a bottle I was trying to fill from the sink. But I couldn't wrangle the bottle top. I pulled a towel rack off the wall. I knocked everything off a shelf. Everything off the sink. I made it back to my bed in a cold sweat and took my pitiful little sips from the water bottle. I was lying carefully still, hoping the nausea would not come back. The sweat was drying and the fever was breaking. I was moaning (because I'm a big baby) and as I sipped a little more I got the feeling that the worst may be over. I had lost the cough which had kept me awake for two nights. And I fell asleep. When I awoke it was daylight. And indeed, I was better. And I had a different perspective. The guy who wanted that water in the night had had a little lesson in the hierarchy of needs. New perspective. So what is important? The world is right side up again. My wife is well and reading with her dog in the next room. The news from son in California is good. He just got over being sick. And is well.

Health and happiness to all of you. LLITTY :::::+:::::

Just a Quote

I haven't posted in so long my own blog wouldn't let me in without a new password. And I'm so blocked creatively that I have to just repeat something I didn't write. Actually, I'm not blocked creatively. I've written about a dozen songs in my mind lately. And a score of marginally clever blog posts also in my mind. It's the writing them down that I am blocked from doing. So this is a rant about God. What a shock. But I didn't write it. I quote Daniel Dennett. Here we go:

"Why do people care so much what other people believe about God? I believe that the center of the Earth consists mainly of molten iron and nickel. Relative to other things I believe, this is a pretty big and exciting fact. Just imagine: there's a ball of molten iron and nickel nearby; it's about the size of the moon and a lot closer; in fact, it's between me and Australia! Lots of people don't know this, and too bad for them-- since it's quite a delightful fact. But it really doesn't bother me that they don't share my belief, or my delight. Why should it matter so much whether others share your belief in God?"

LLITTY :::::+:::::

How I got from 78's to Ian Tyson

We all have a favorite kind of music. Conventional wisdom indicates that we always love the music we grew up with. The songs that were popular when we first fell in love. Or first got our teenage heart broken. First drove a car. First did a few things without adult supervision. I have to mention a Beach Boys song now, and this has nothing to do with this post. I just feel like throwing it in. One of the "car songs" makes me feel like America is a car club and this is the song that is the best example of the genre. No one from anywhere but the U.S. could understand the lyrics. The song is called "Fun Fun Fun". You remember it. "She'll have fun fun fun 'till her daddy takes the T-Bird away". It was a catchy little tune ala Chuck Berry. The lyrics told the story of a girl who went to the hamburger stand instead of the library. When she drove her dad's T bird she drove so fast that the "INDY" 500 looked like a Roman chariot race. She looked like an Ace and she drove like an Ace. Eventually her dad takes away the keys to the Thunderbird. This is the best car song ever written. The images of Americana are tightly condensed and woven, everybody loves it. Yes, I love "Little old Lady From Pasadena" and
"409", Dead Man's Curve", Little Deuce Coupe". They're all great. That T-Bird song with the good looking girl is the best.

Anyway, we fall in love with the songs of the period when we fell in love. When I was in Jr. High I was listening to the car songs and the slow dance songs and wanted so much to be "liked" at the Friday night "teen club". But I had an older brother. He had a driver's license and some limited use of the family car. A 1961 Mercury Comet. Straight six "three on the tree". He took Karate lessons and he took guitar lessons. He told me over and over about this guy in high school named David Legg who played acoustic guitar and sang folk songs at some school functions. One of the songs he sang was "Where Have all the Flowers Gone?" The Kingston trio had just come out with it. This guy David had, according to my brother, all the girls in the school falling in love with him. He was part "Collegiate" and part "beatnik" I kept that in the back of my mind. I have an older sister, she is the oldest. She had the first folk album I had ever seen, (the Kingston Trio) let alone heard. It was almost the first 33 1/3 album in our house. We had a Mickey Mouse Club album that was the first LP album I had ever seen. I thought the new format was just for the Micky Mouse club. So my brother had this "Stella" guitar and it was really mostly a toy guitar. And a friend of our father gave my brother a "Gretsch" guitar and I got the Stella. I couldn't play it but I could imagine while holding it having a girl or two that I liked in school liking me. After the Kingston Trio album, my sister got a "Peter, Paul and Mary" album. Then one day my brother brought home a "Tom Paxton" album. He listened to it over and over. I didn't have anything else to do and I listened too. It was protest folk songs and Paxton had written them. They couldn't be folk songs if this guy had just written them. Could they? The term singer-songwriter hadn't been coined. I learned lyrics to those Paxton songs, and chorded along on the Stella. The strings had never been changed. If one broke, you just did without. The Paxton record was called "Ramblin' Boy". Soon I was "Ramblin" around my suburban neighborhood. And if I missed the bus to school, I would just "Ramble" and walk, and if I got there late, well I'd been walkin down a long dusty road, doin' hard travlin'. I knew even then, I wasn't much of a rambler. I couldn't wait to get a car or a cycle. And a girl. Next my brother brought home an album that had a black and white cover with a picture of a hick looking guy with a big scowl on his face. I said to my brother "who the heck is Bob Dylan?" But I pronounced it Dye- lin. My brother told me how to pronounce Dylan and that Dylan was better than Paxton. Little did we know, that was actually Dylan's third album. We literally wore that record out. That album, called "The Times They are a Changin" made me forever a "folkie". There were many more albums and folk groups and singer-songwriters to come, in my coming of age genre. But the very next record my brother brought home was the Canadian folk duo "Ian and Sylvia". I couldn't pronounce "Ian" any better than I could "Dylan". That was immediately our new favorite album.
I still liked pop music. The top 40. Some of the folk songs crossed over and made the pop charts. "Blowin' in the Wind" by Dylan was recorded by everyone. But for some reason my brother and I just sort of tuned into Ian and Sylvia, and we got their records. On the Vanguard label. We sang the songs and tried to copy the harmonies. Ian and Sylvia were not on the top 40 and none of my friends knew about them. There were boy/girl duos on the charts. "Dick and Dee Dee". Nino Tempo and April Stevens. Paul and Paula. But we liked the folky almost bluegrass acoustic guitar and primal vocals of Ian and Sylvia. Ian wrote "Four Strong Winds" and "Someday Soon" and Sylvia wrote "You were on my Mind". They were married for about ten years, and went their separate ways. They were on Canadian TV with a few different shows. After a break of a few years, Ian had a second recording and writing career.

I wound up discovering that Ian, at age 78 is still around and writing and performing. I ordered an Ian Tyson legacy guitar from Mackenzie and Marr out of Montreal.

And I just ordered "The Long Trail", Ian's autobiography. I also ordered a book called "Four Strong Winds" which tells the story of Ian and Sylvia. So I'll know a big backstory whenever I get a chance to read that. All I've said about Ian so far is just what I remember from my childhood. I also ordered some Ian Tyson CD's from when he was in his fifties, sixties, and seventies. I'm sure I will like them.

But it's hard to try to go back and recapture the memories. I used to love "The Saint" on TV with Roger Moore and now when I watch it on Retro TV, it seems dull and contrived. Same with "Robin Hood" and "Mr. Ed". And "Bonanza" is the worst.

I won't get completely back into Ian and Sylvia. I've checked out a few things on YouTube. It's OK and fun to see how young they look and how old I feel. There's something about Ian. An old man now. He is maybe the last real singing cowboy. He's the real deal.

a sofa on a sunday afternoon, goin to the candidate's debate

Have you been following the Republican primaries? The field of the best and brightest has been pared down a bit. And I'm getting sick of it, so I only listen in a couple times a week. I'm a Democrat/Independent. I'm also a social liberal. I don't think someone has to be God fearing to be moral. I think abortions are sad and should be avoided, but I don't think they should be illegal. I think drug abuse is sad and wrong, but I don't think it should be illegal. I don't really give a damn what gays do in private. I don't care if they get married. And I don't know why anyone would care. It doesn't impact my marriage in any way.









I think all of the Republican candidates are all out wacko wing nut looneys. They imagine an America like "our former glory" "the way it used to be" 'when we were strong" "when we stood for something" "in the way of our founding fathers". Mitt Romney loves to claim he will "return" America to some thing that it was before Obama gave away all our hopes and dreams and sold our souls to the poor people and the Chinese. I'm trying to imagine what part of the founding father's lifestyle he wants back. Plantations with slaves? The labor practices of the robber barons? Segregation? Killing all the Indians? Witch hunting? The Constitution and Bill of Rights have actually in many cases stood the test of time because they can be amended. Unfortunately the bible can not stand the test of time and is not allowed to be questioned. I don't want to live in a world where one of these Republicans can try to build his dream society. If you are poor, Or middle class, Or a minority, Or an addict, Or a laborer, Or gay, Or without health insurance, you are screwed. Don't get me wrong, I'm not all happy with Obama either. I believe in universal health care. But I don't like it being shoved through.









I was awed by the over the top pomposity of Bachman, Cain, and Perry and very entertained.




When they dropped out, I thought the fun was over. But OMG Newt Gingrich is even better. He's so hopelessly flawed and jaded and capricious and bitter and hypocritical. He's a Democrat's dream. We all know he will self destruct if he hasn't already. My fantasy is that he would win the nomination and then self destruct during the national campaign. Newt is a fairy tale character who throws stones while he lives in a house made of sand, glass, and cards. I love him. He's the last alternative to Romney, so it will be Mitt to face the incumbent. Once Mitt ties up the nomination it will probably get boring until after the conventions. Then Obama and Romney can square off in battle. Each promising the world if you would only vote for them. That might be boring. Speaking of boring, I haven't mentioned Santorum. He's the religious right candidate. He hates gays. He hates sinners. He wants God and tax cuts. There are bedroom things that he would like to see people arrested for. His imaginary Creator is better and truer than anyone else's. Oddly, he is the only candidate that doesn't amuse me. I usually enjoy wacky people on some level. I simply loathe Santorum.

I think I could sum up the 2012 election as Democrat vs Republican. That's boring. We all know the shameful secret there. The parties are much the same.

More interesting might be Socialist vs Capitalist. I live on social security and a highly regulated pension annuity. I guess in my retirement, if I vote my pocketbook, I'm a socialist. Ooooh. I said a dirty word. It makes me feel tingly. I hope God wasn't listening, or Rick Santorum.

To break it down further would be to say, the Have's vs the Have not's.

I'm going to swich to decaf, this post is too long. Say goodbye and visit the loo. I hope it's not "Occupied".

LLITTY :::::+::::::

Look Thru Any Window

Now as I type I look out the window. It's a day that appears neutral. Not blue sky. Not stormy. No precipitation. Not sunset just yet. You couldn't say it was a beautiful day. But I live on a little farm. I'm retired. We have pets tame and wild. Our house is leaky and we experience the weather inside too. So no day is just neutral. Let me look out the window again and take in the details. The geese have been flying in huge record breaking flocks. Literally miles long. The days getting a bit longer as we approach groundhog day and the half quarter. I can feel the deepest temperature part of winter coming in. The average temperature for this time of year is a high of 47 degrees. I would be happy if we had that average high temperature. It seems we often don't. Last year temps were way below average. This year it's been pretty good. No snow, no flooding, no frozen pipes. I shouldn't say a word. I should only knock on wood. We've got February to get through. I need to get outside and walk every day or I lose the battle with my glucose intolerance. I need to finish winterizing my engine driven tools and toys so they will start in the Spring. I see my wife walking to the mailbox with our dog "Yukon". I figure we've got about five weeks to go and the threat of a big pipe freezing deep freeze will be over. I sort of hope we get one really big snow just to make it interesting. But I want it to go away quickly and be followed by Spring. I have two aviation thoughts every time I look out the window. First I need to buy, borrow, or lease an aircraft I can fly under rules they call "light sport". And second, this would be an awful day to try to soar in a sailplane. Happy Groundhog Day. One week away. Well, I just can't gaze out the window all afternoon. I'm an important guy with things to do. The only thing on my schedule today was bringing the emptied trash can back up to the house. But I see my wife has already done that. It's very cloudy. But that might make for a beautiful sunset.