Cancer, you say.....

....long debate about writing anything about this, but I figured I would tell my story a bit more...

I had what I thought was an ingrown hair on my left cheek. I cut myself shaving on it, and that made me think that there was a little more to this. 

I went to the dermatologist that Nicole recommended when I asked her what she thought, and the doctor said it didn't look like anything terribly abnormal, but we could do a nitrogen freeze to remove it if it was bothering me, so we did that. 

Two weeks later, it was back.

So, in I went again, and they did a biopsy, saying that it could be up to 2 weeks before we heard anything, but at least we would know what was going on, and that would give us a little peace of mind. 

I made it to our crew hotel in Leon, Mexico, and had just settled down by the beautiful pool to enjoy the sunshine and swim for a few hours. I received a call from the Dermatologist's office, so I answered.

Nurse: "We got the results back from your biopsy. Squamous Cell Carcinoma. Skin Cancer. "

Me: "Wait... hold on... let me get out of the sun."

The tunnel vision you get when you hear that "C" word used is pretty epic. 

We chatted a little bit about what the best procedure to use to remove the cancerous cells is, and I also made an appointment for a full epidermal checkout a few days later. 

I called back after looking at my insurance's website to find both a Dermatologist that was "in network," and one that it turns out is part of the expanded group from my long time (but now retired) GP. Different floor, same building. 

As it turns out, they have known Dr. Alam for a long time; and considering that he teaches the procedure at Northwestern Medical School's School of Dermatology, this is exactly the guy that I wanted to go to. Made an appointment for As Soon As Possible, and then it was a waiting game of only a week.

Then I went back out by the pool, swam a few laps, and then lay down (in the shade) to clear my mind and think about hearing That Word again. 

Well..... Hell. 

From that point, I did what I usually do. I've always been a voracious reader, so I spent quite a while on the CDC and on WebMD. 

Squamous Cell Carcinoma, the 2nd most common form of skin cancer. With early detection, it is 'curable' (no return at that location on the body) at nearly 100%. You are more likely to develop another SCC near the same spot, since that is where the original damage was located. Curable is in quotes, because mine could have had an origin back when I was in my teens. It could just as easily never expanded again after the biopsy and had zero effect on me for the rest of my life, or untreated for a year or two, it could metastasize, invade the lymphatic system, and lead to any number of far more virulent cancers.

Early detection, though, and curable to nearly 100%? I'll take those odds!

Some of the good news is that my full body check came back negative; the only trouble spot was the spot on my cheek. 

Mohs Surgery is what they call the Gold Standard for this type of cancer. The Dermatologist removes the growth (under a local anesthetic,) and it is sent for an immediate biopsy while you wait. If they find the growth extends to the edges, then the surgeon knows exactly where to continue removing skin until the cancer is gone. The extent of the treatment really depends on how spread out and now deep the cancerous tissues are found. 

Luckily for me, on the second cut, they had all the tissue, and they just had to sew me up. Now I have a cool scar to remember everything by... 

I've spent most of my life doing things outdoors, so while this was not inevitable, it is not a big surprise. When I was younger, I sunburned often (not on purpose, but it was the 80s... there were people using BABY OIL to soak up as much sunshine as possible, for Heaven's sake!) 

I've been a regular sunblock user for a while, and I am stepping up my game. SPF 30 or more from now on, neck to toes, with 50 on the face, ears, etc. 

It is weird thinking of myself as a cancer 'survivor,' but I guess in a way, I am. I feel mentally that it diminishes the impact of the word 'survivor.' My friend Ryan has been through 90+ round of chemo, has had halo surgeries, all kinds of craziness. He is a survivor. I've met Leukemia survivors, breast cancer survivors, the whole lot; and what I went through is very small potatoes indeed compared to the years of treatments, pain, fear, etc, that all of those people go through. 

The take away from all of this---- Especially if you have sunburnt a few times, work outside, or have ever used a tanning bed: Grab your insurance card, and go see a Dermatologist once a year for a full body check. It takes 15 minutes, it'll help you use your HSA, and for Pete's sake, it is a small effort for something that is almost laughably simple to handle in the early stages. 

... Oh, and stop bitching and wear a good sunblock. 

 That small red indentation in the center of the picture is cancer. 





The Dermatologist marks the outline for where they're going to 'excise' tissue. 







Looks like a was attacked by a nutcase with a small sharp melonballer, but... no cancer!


 

 6 Stitches, and done! Time to heal and buy better sunblock. And a wide brimmed hat.

Narcissus and Echo

A little Greek today.

There is a reason why our storytelling, our cultural heritage goes through the Greek world. Every pre-written-word culture had stories that were used to share their histories, to let children know their proper place in society, to coach their women and men on duties and customs. The Greek raised all of these oral histories... these cultural pass-downs, to highest effect. They spoke (as Shakespeare does) to the basic human condition. They went beyond simply being cultural stories about Greeks, and became how we all relate cross culture, too. 

So here is the story of Narcissus and Echo. This is from a translation by Ted Hughes, who admittedly took very, and I mean very, liberal translation duties. It is, however, poetic, and wonderful.

Echo was a beautiful nymph, who had been badgering Hera; Hera reduced Echo to an entity that could only speak when spoken to, and could only repeat whatever she had heard last.

Narcissus was a vain man, who was fated to fall in love with his own reflection, until all that was left of him was the flower that bears his name; Nemesis, being the God of vengeance, having gotten angry of Narcissus spurn of Echo's true love and devotion.

Narcissus and Echo

Narcissus had stayed apart from his companions, and called out to them, “Where are you? I am here!” and Echo clung to those words as if they were precious, and called back, “I am here.. I am here.. I am here…”

Narcissus looked around wildly, and shouted, “I will stay here, you come to me!” And Echo shouted, “…come to me… to me… to me”

Narcissus stood baffled,  whether to go or stay. He began to run, calling as he ran, “Stay there! Stay there!” But Echo called back, weeping to utter it, “Stay there… stay there… stay there.”

Narcissus stopped and listened, and then more quietly, he spoke “Let’s meet half way. Come.” and Echo eagerly repeated it “Come…. come…. come.”

But when she emerged from the undergrowth, her expression pleading, her arms raised to embrace him, Narcissus turned and ran, and he replied “No, I would sooner be dead than have you touch me.”

Echo collapsed in sobs as her voice called out to the mountains “…touch me… touch me… touch me.”

Vanity.... Beauty.... Passion.... Misunderstanding. The human condition knows all of these.

If you ain't got family, you ain't got shit

We buried my Godfather last week.

Outside of my dad, my godfather was the biggest male in my life.

James "Jake" Earley, Chicago Police Department, Badge #10092.

My Uncle Jim was a larger than life figure. He is the only person that I know personally who knew my dad when my dad was younger, like high school. Jake married my dad's big sister Mary, and that is the connection between the Donohue and Earley families. You have no idea how complicated it gets after that!

I have Irish on both sides, Donohue and Tunney. My extended family tree stretches out... and out.. and out. I gave up trying to keep track of everyone a lonnnnng time ago.

The wake and funeral did give me a chance to see my amazing cousins on that side of the family again, and since my branch was the youngest, my cousins have adult kids (2nd cousins) and they are amazing, too! We've since pledged to stay in touch a little better, and with FaceBook, etc, that should be a lot easier... staying in each other's lives. Because; If you ain't got family, you ain't got shit.

"Blood is thicker than water, right Godson?"

How many times did I hear him say that! A thousand? Easily.

Family was #1 in life. Church was #2. At the homily, Father Jim Hyland (whose first Parish was St John Fisher, where my uncle lived,) gave a beautiful eulogy of his own for my uncle. One of the many things he said was that Jake knew all the mass schedules for the area. He knew that if he had to work late, the times of the last mass in the area, or he could always stop by the hospital, or which Parish had the latest mass.

He loved family. He watched out for us when my dad slipped into gambling and his alcoholism got really bad. He worked extra hard, and instead of going out with the 'boys,' he picked up extra duty to pay the bills off early. His gift to his kids upon graduation from college? No college debt.

He adored his grandkids. He loved seeing them as often as he could. He had retired by the time they were getting older, and he went to every game that he could get himself to.

He was a great, big, fun man. He lives as large as he could stand it. When my Aunt Mary passed away, suddenly.... he was heartbroken. His only wish was to join her, but his will to live kept him going for so many years.

Aunt Mary died a little too much inside when her daughter, my cousin Nancy, died from cancer. Nancy was another one who lived as if she colored outside the lines. She had all of her dad's 'live out loud' sense, but she was also the closest to us in age, so we had a special connection. I visited her when she was hospitalized, and she was really weak. Cancer is such a bastard. Anyways, when I got in to her room, she was resting alone. I sat down next to her bed and held her hand, and after a few minutes she opened her eyes, saw my and smiled, and said "Scotty!"

We talked quietly for a few minutes, max, and then she said she was still tired. I told her she needed to rest up, she had herself, her three kids, and her husband Mike she needed to fight for. She nodded off, saying "Love you, cousin," and I said "Love you most!" and she chuckled softly and went back to sleep.

I left after she was back asleep, and went about my day. I called my mom on my way home, and she asked if I had seen my aunt of uncle. I said they had stepped out, but I got to talk to Nancy a little bit so it was fine. My mom called me later laughing. Uncle Jim and Aunt Mary had been down getting a bite to eat, and when they came back up to Nancy's room, she said I had stopped by. They thought she had dreamed that I was there, because nobody else saw me!! We had a great laugh over that.

When Nancy passed, my Aunt Mary passed away a little bit with her. My aunt died a few short year later, and all my Godfather has wanted since then is to be with his wife again.

Uncle Jim is finally where he wanted to be. I am sure he is sitting next to Aunt Mary, and she is telling him what needs to be done, and he is saying "Yes dear," and taking his marching orders and getting the job done. I know he misses his kids and grandkids... jeez, he loved his grandkids. I know how much he misses them because of how much WE miss HIM. But family is #1, and his #1 was my Aunt Mary.

I got to visit him right before his 83rd birthday, and took the 'selfie' of the two of us. I am so grateful to have had him as my Godfather, and to see in real life, in real time, someone who doesn't just mouth the words about the importance of family, but lived it daily, hourly.

He was so much larger than life. So now I'll hoist a beer and repeat after him..."Body of Christ..."

Thanks for everything, Godfather.

Iran and the Bomb

This is going to be a bit of a departure from my usual writing.

I've been reading quite a bit recently on this topic (and a few others,) and after numerous conversations, I realized that not that many people know what is really going on. So, I thought I would write a bit about this.

There will be a little math (Oh, noes!! Horrors!) But I promise it will be mostly painless. There are some big words, too.

Why it is so important that Iran not be allowed to continue their nuclear program.

Heavy Stuff!
There are many aspects to this, many questions that come into play. What is 'enrichment?' Why should we care about their nuclear power program? They are trying to provide power for civilian purposes. So what if they have 'The Bomb." Israel and Pakistan have the bomb, as well as North Korea. They just want it, like so many other countries do.

There are differences in civilian nuclear programs, and military programs (obviously.) Not to mention, the country that is involved is important; this does not all happen in a vacuum. If Burkino Faso intended to work towards a civilian program, I would not be nearly as leery as I am with Iran's program.

First of all, Iran.

This is a country that... since 1979 has made it a tradition to end Friday prayers with "Death to America." I don't know why our current President does not seem to get this. When someone... especially a political entity that is trying to gain a toehold in the nuclear weapon world, believes the only good you is a dead you, you should take them at face value. If you know for a fact that they are trying to make that concept a reality, take them at face value, and consider yourself at war. As it has been said, "You may not be interested in war, but war is interested in you."  This would be like meeting a stranger in a dark abandoned street. The stranger comes up to you and says to "Give me all your money, any jewelry you have, and I might not kill you." Then when you take the time to explain that you work with violence prevention groups, and you believe in nonviolence as the answer to any question, they knife you. As the person takes your money, and your life spills out of you, you realize 'oh, I might not be interested in violence, but violence might be interested in me.'

"Death to America." For over 30 years.

Also, according to our own State Department, Iran has been the leading exporter of terror for the last 3 decades. Iran is an accomplice in the 1998 US Embassy bombings in Africa, and in the 9/11 attacks.

Need more?

The deal that the President (and the UN) is trying to make, will lift sanctions as long as Iran promises to slow down their nuclear programs. For 10 years.

OF course, why should they? Can anyone fill me in on a single treaty or sanction that they have complied with? Here is a great list of sanctions thatthey have violated, and it is only current to 2011. International Atomic Energy Agency Sanctions, UN violations... the list goes on and on. Why would anyone believe they will follow through on anything that they already intend to violate? They have with impunity, and they will continue with their goals.

President Obama is willing (and so are many of the UN Countries, and shame on them) to let Iran become a 'Threshold" Nuclear State. So they will have the capabilities of enriching uranium to military grade, but they will not be in the process of enriching it. Yeah, right, who believes that crap? (Other than the President... and the usual cast of fools at the UN.)

So, what does it mean to be 'Threshold?' Why is this so big a deal?

Here is some nuke info, on enrichment, refinement, and how to make The Bomb.

There are 2 kinds of naturally occurring Uranium. U238 and U235. The number refers to the total of neutrons and protons in the nucleus, or center of the atom of uranium. So, U235 has 235 protons(92) and neutrons(143), and U238 has 238 protons(92) and neutrons(146.) I know, all kinds of science-y.

Now I am sure we all remember Science from 7th grade. The Atom is composed of protons and neutrons in the nucleus, and it is surrounded by rings of electrons. The protons are held together by the Strong Nuclear Force. I am sure everyone remembers that like repels like, and all those protons are there, all with their positive charges. Why don't the fly apart? THAT is the Strong Nuclear Force, holding all those like charges extremely close together. That is the force that is unleashed in an atom bomb... literally, the energy released when you break that bond, and get the nucleus of the atom to fly apart.

It is very complicated, it only works over short distances, and the neutrons help the whole thing along.

A good rule of thumb, is that elements that have an even number, are generally more stable than elements that have odd numbers (oxygen [8], platinum [78], v. phosphorus [15] potassium [19.]) Those additional neutrons (146 instead of 143) make U238 very stable (At least in relation to its lighter brother, U235.)

99% or the naturally occurring uranium is U238... of course!! It is more stable! I would hope so!
1% is U235, and U235 is what we want if we want to use it for energy (for good or ill.)

The normal process is called 'enrichment.' In a centrifuge, if you spin say... blood, it will break down by weight, and the different components of blood will separate into plasma, which is light, then a little bit of white blood cells and platelets, and then the red blood cells (heaviest.)

So, you put the uranium into the centrifuge, and spin it away.

A small problem-- uranium is a solid. Liquids separate, gasses separate, but you can spin a solid bar, and all you'll get is dizzy.

So you need to turn it into a liquid or a gas. (warning-- big words coming, but don't be scared!)

The standard/universal method is to take your uranium, mix it with fluorine, and then you have Uranium Hexafluoride gas (Uranium bonded to 6 Fluorides.) This is then spun in the centrifuge, and the lighter U235 'floats' near the top, and the heavier U238 gloms to the bottom. Part of that U235 is scooped off the top, and then the process is repeated.

(note-- Uranium Hexafluoride gas (UH6, or 'Hex,') is radioactive, toxic, and corrosive. Trifecta!!-- in the words of John Walker.)

The numbers to reach are pretty staggering. Let us say you start with 10,000 lbs of Uranium. Simple math will tell you that you have 9,900 lbs of U238, and 100 lbs of U235. Pure U235 is nearly impossible to work with, so you want a ration of U238 to U235 (the stability of U238 tampens down the reactivity of the U235, but only up to a point. Kind of like adding butter to your cooking oil in the pan. Saturated fats in the butter protect the poly unsaturated fats in the cooking oil from breaking down at higher temps.)

So, what kind of mix are we looking for?

Your first SIXTEEN passes through the centrifuges will produce a uranium that is about 95% U238 and 5% U235. This takes a long time, and a great deal of effort. That 10,000 lbs is now around 1,000 lbs, and it is only 5% U235. This is what is called 'Reactor Grade" Uranium. This is what reactors prefer to burn. The U235 undergoes the radioactive decay, there is enough U238 to stop reactions from going out of control. All we need to do is separate the Fluorine from the uranium, and we have "Yellow cake." (mmm... like a Bundt?)

(The leftover uranium is called Depleted Uranium. It has many uses. It was used in counterbalances in aircraft, in the keel of 1 particular sailboat, radiation shielding in medical uses, etc...)( Also, for the military minded, this is where the A-10 gets depleted uranium canon rounds.)

There is exactly zero benefit in civilian use for making uranium 'richer.' Reactors are designed to run on this combination. In fact, a number of countries (Spain, South Africa,) simply don't bother with enriching, and order their reactor uranium from the IAEA. Probably arrives in the mail in discreet unmarked paper bags.

However, let's say that you decide to continue the process, Now, you are starting with 2,000 lbs of uranium as you continue.

At around 20% ratio of U235 to 80% U238, you are at Naval propulsion and medical isotope research uranium (and you have about 400 lbs.) If you don't have nuclear subs, and you are building a massive medical research facility, there are really no practical uses for this metal. This level of uranium is also supplied by the IAEA to countries that purchase it.

You also need fewer and smaller centrifuge cascades at this point. (You can hide them underground much easier.) The time contingent is also here... it takes considerable less time to enrich from this point. So, from 1% to 5%, it takes 25 times the work as it does from 5% to 20%.

Now we run the 20% enriched uranium through a centrifuge cascade that is 25 TIMES smaller than the one we started with, and 5 times smaller than the previous step. At this point, we have 80% U235 to 20% U238, and we are at Weapons Grade Uranium. From your 400 lbs of medical uranium, you now have about 80 lbs of the Bomb. (BTW, this would, at normal densities, fit into a ball about 6" across. Yes, INCHES. So about the size of a cantaloupe. An 80 lb, explosive cantaloupe.)

btw, the depleted uranium can be used to fuel Mil Grade Breeder reactors, to wring even more out of the original 10klbs.It can also be used to create plutonium, which will give them access to fusion weapons, not just fission.

As you can see as the uranium gets more 'enriched,' the time to enrich it further and the size of the equipment both shrink. This is literally the turn of an adjustment screwdriver on the centrifuge hardware to accomplish, and it takes 1/25th the volume of equipment.

By allowing Iran to even be able to enrich, at any given time the are the turn of a screw from going nuclear.

When they 'light up,' they are not going to simply blow off the bomb that they have created; they are going to have 1,000 of them waiting the results of the test explosion. Once they are enriching in the final stages, they can make as much as they want, any time they want.

Six years ago, the understanding was "A nuclear Iran? NEVER!" But now we are playing this game of "A nuclear Iran? <kicks the can down the road> Not soon." The reality is, we cannot afford, for safety's sake that they even continue their own enrichment program (for which they have never given IAEA or UN inspectors complete access, to ensure they are complying with the Treaty on Nuclear Non-Proliferation that they signed in 1957 and then IAEA Safeguards that they signed in 1973.)

Iran has yet to abide by a single treaty they have signed. Why on Earth does the President think that they will abide by this? They are just buying time... time to build, time to hide, and time to present to the world the fait accompli of being a nuclear weapon state.

And the world will be a very different place, indeed.

Uberiffic!

Ah, what to do, what to do.

So back in December, I injured my shoulder. Nothing big, I was flying the next day, all was right with the universe. It hurt swimming, so I cut back on that, but otherwise, I was quite well.

I had my FAA Medical (Airline Captains have a medical every 6 months) on Feb 17^th, and I go to a pretty thorough doctor. As we were having the exam (various vision tests, heart, BP, etc…) he manipulated my arm and saw me wince. He asked me

“So, what is this all about?”

I told him that I had hurt my shoulder (most likely a small tear in the rotator cuff, which is all the connective tissue, tendons, ligaments, etc, that join at the shoulder. ) but I had no issues doing my job, etc. I showed him that I had full range of motion by moving my arm around, and he said “Let me check something.” So he had me hold my arms straight out to my sides, thumbs up, and he pressed down on my arms just outside my elbows. I winced as he pushed down, and he said “Scott, I hate to say this, but that is a disqualifier. You can’t have pain with resistence. I will have to defer your medical.”

What????

So he called in to the DuPage FAA Medical Standards office, and they confirmed it. He told me that the FAA expects us to be pulling bodies out of the burning airplane, and I told him “You do know that my actual job is to get out and watch everyone burn to death, right?” He said he knows that, but the FAA doesn’t see it that way.

“So, we’ll defer your medical for 3 weeks so that you can heal properly, and then you’ll be good to go.”

So I told him that it is a good thing I don’t abuse my sick time!! 3 weeks more of vacation, here I come! (We had just gotten back from Cabo and visiting friends in San Diego. Thomas is 5 and ½ years old, and my job is to be away. I don’t mind being home at all!)

So I scheduled a visit with a good friend of mine who is a PT, and we got an RX for Therapy so that I could work on building up my shoulder a bit more aggressively.

In the meanwhile, what to do?

Got oil changes for the cars, got brake work done, organized the garage a bit, cleaned a bunch of crap off the table, organized the closets… wow, lots to be done.

But for a little extra money? (I’ve got the time, after all, and even a little money is more than we had yesterday…) I’m not really qualified to do anything. Well, I move people around. What can I do that moves people around?

So, I became an Uber driver.

We have a car that meets the specifications (4 doors, late model, in good condition,) and I have time. Why not?

If you don’t know what Uber is, it is a ‘ride sharing’ service. You register and download the app onto you phone, and then when you need a lift, instead of hailing a cab you see if there is a car in the area, and you pay by distance driven. Everything is run off of credit cards and GPS. No money changes hands. I think it is fantastic, especially for women traveling singly in the cities. You just jump in, most likely you have already entered your destination (which does not show up to the partner/drive until they pick you up) and away you go. Most of the time, except in “Surge” times, it is far cheaper than a cab, and the cars are kept in much better condition, because they are personal vehicles.

So I went on the website, clicked ‘join as a partner,’ and we were off and running.

You have to submit all of your information to them. They do 5 different checks; a criminal background check, a sexual predator check, a credit check, and 2 others that I can’t think of off the top of my head. This takes a few days. In the meanwhile, you watch the video on “How to be a 5 star Partner.” It is crazy how simple it is. Not in a bad way. but really, the start-up costs are nil, if you already have the car.

Once you are accepted into the system and are able to ‘go online,’ you simply open up the Partner App on your phone, click “Go Online,” and the app uses GPS to find you and look for riders.

The reality is the riders look for you. On the Partner App, there is no way to see riders or other drivers; You drive around, or park, or whatever, and then when someone is looking for a ride, they can click on your car, and you will be ‘hailed.’ Then you drive to the GPS pin or address they put in, and take them on their way.

They do have software that runs an algorithm that is called the ‘surge.’ If there are few drivers in an area and many riders, they ride share ‘fare’ will increase (shown as 1.2X, or 1.5X, etc) and that will bring more drivers into an area (supply and demand—no drivers and lots of riders, higher rider fares are charged. Biggest I ever saw was in Lincoln Park when a Bulls game was letting out. All the drivers go to the Stadium because they know there will be a lot of riders and fewer drivers, so they are searching for that 2.0X. Those of us who stayed away from the madness saw a few moments of a massive 5.0X in Lincoln Park (because all the drivers were at the United Center!!))

I had a great time. Really. It is a hoot. Having never been a cab driver, I don’t know if there is much of a comparison, but while drivers get rated, drivers can rate the passengers, too, so if you regularly get low rating, drivers will turn you down or you may be removed from the system. Makes people be on their toes a bit more!!

Some of the people that I met and gave rides to—

On my very first day, I had a pickup in Rogers Park that I had to drop off near UIC. From there I had a rider at 17^th and State (At a restaurant that Nicole, Thomas, and I went to dinner at a few weeks ago) who needed to be taken to 44^th and Western. From there I got pinged, and the rider was at 7700 S Green. (ruh roh.)

When I pulled onto the block (This was in a nice little snowstorm on Wednesday night, Feb 25^th,) the first 4 buildings on my left had boarded up windows and doors. This is where being part of Uber helps – if someone thought they were going to ‘roll’ me, all of their information is already in the Uber system.. Uber knows who called me for the ride, and has their credit card info, etc…etc… lends an extra level of safety to the scene. Plus, I grew up in Chicago, I’m a city boy. I know the ‘hood.

I picked up a younger black man in a baseball cap and with a backpack. He had a big grin on his face, and as he walked up he said “Scott?” (The driver’s names are known before you get picked up.) and I said “Yes!” He told me he was sure glad to see me, he didn’t’ think he would be able to catch a ride so late (it was a little after midnight, and… well… 7700 south Green is pretty much the ghetto.)

His destination was in Hyde Park. So we started chatting. Here is his story.

“T” grew up poor in New Orleans. They didn’t think they were poor, they were just not wealthy. He is in pre-med at University of Chicago, and plans on going to dental school. His little sister has been accepted to their pre-med program, too. He told me that his father died when he was younger, and his mom was a ‘washer-woman, a laundress.’ She does laundry for rich folk, like table linens, etc. He said if he came home and had less than 2 hours of homework, his mama would beat him with a wooden spoon, saying “There has to be something you need to read or study, now get cracking!” She taught him that the only way his family was ever going to get out of the ‘poor folk ghetto’ is if he and his sister got a proper education and got them family out of there.

It was like having a time life story in my back seat. I hope he succeeds, and he said his little sister wants to go for it all, be a surgeon. I wished them both luck when I dropped him off.

“B” was having a terrible time. Something bad was going on, and she didn’t want to talk. I asked her if she wanted the radio off, too, but she didn’t mind that, she just didn’t want to think too much.  When we got to her stop, she was very contemplative, and was hesitant to get out. She kind of steeled herself, and then went on into a private residence. I didn’t get more than 10 words out of her, really. Everyone has something going on.

“T” is a younger woman who is working on a pair of master’s degrees. She grew up in Brazzaville, Congo. Her family moved here when she was 12. She speaks 6 or 7 languages fluently, and there are a few dialects of Congalese that she knows well enough, and that are different enough, that they are really different languages. She was fascinating to talk to. She had some choice words, btw, for Americans who call themselves “…African-American when they have never been to Africa and probably can’t find Africa on a map.” (This is a pretty common theme amongst immigrants from Africa that I have met (Ethiopia, Congo, Ghana, Senegal, and Namibia.) An Ethiopian-born co-worker of mine said “African-American?? African-American my ass. I’m African-American; YOU’RE black.”

I had an evening when I seemed to be taking chefs and cooks all around the town. The following night it was directors and producers from Second City and a few other theaters. One was a pair of couples, best friends, who had children about the same age, and it was their first night out again since the babies were born.

People going hither and yon. One Friday I seemed to spend all my time heading up to Glenview.

It was a lot of fun. I met a number of really interesting people. One of my riders jumped in, and after a minute said “Ok, there are TWO kinds of Uber drivers; Cabbies, and people like YOU. What do you do in real life?”

I had 4 young girls jump in; I picked them up from an after hours club. They all had black “X” marks on the backs of their hands; I figure they were under-21 but allowed into the show. I picked them up at Irving and Pulaski, and they wanted to go to basically 6600 N. Sheridan. It was 2am. As we started our way north, all 4 girls were complaining about going to this party. One of them had a crush on a guy who might be there, but none of them liked the crowd that they knew was going. After a mile, I told them “Look, I’m not gonna get all father figure on your guys, but none of you want to go to this party. Why are you going? For a maybe? You guys were having a blast together when you got in. Don’t even bother going to this party, just go to another place, and continue having fun. Believe me, I have been in this spot, and you’re better off just continuing to have fun instead of going half way across the city to NOT have fun. You have your whole lives to not have fun!” One of the girls in the back said “You’re the best Uber driver in the world!” All they wanted was for someone to say ‘Hey, you really really want to go to this place?’

One gal had just found out she was accepted into a PhD English program at Brown; another pair of girls were reuniting after a decade apart from when they were exchange student families together. One was from Berlin, one was from Chicago, they both were chefs (This was on chef night.)

I had a bunch of really fun conversations, albeit short. One rider and I ended up talking about books and literature, after she had quizzed me about what is my top 5 musical artists. I said I need more than top 5, more like top 15. I like everything from Rush to Hoagy Carmichael (to which she replied—Hoagy is sublime. Sheer beauty. Mozart of jazz.) She recommended I read “The Holy or the Broken,” the story of Leonard Cohen, Jeff Buckley, and the song “Hallelujah.” I am about 10% of the way into it, and it is really an interesting story! I told her she needed to read “Griffin and Sabine.” I hope she does, and she enjoys it.

One guy (late late) and I started talking about the old AND1 basketball series that was on late night cable. He had been a huge fan, same as I was, and he was stoked to find someone who knew what he was talking about. We had a great ride!

And then…. there is always an ‘and then!’ I had Pringles Guy.

I got pinged to pick someone up around Division and I90. The pin drop was the front of a church, so I knew that could not be right at 0130. This guy came out of a gas station and waved to me.

He was bombed.

All I could think of was “Oh, Dear God, please don’t let him puke in the back seat.”

I could have zipped away, but I didn’t. He got in, and it took him a good 2 minutes to be able to spit out the address he needed to go to. He started with “Just go ahead and go right,” But I knew he wouldn’t be able to function much longer.

Oh man…. lol.

So I finally got him to come up with the name of a building, and off we went.  After driving for a bit, I heard a munching sound coming from the back, and he was partially slumped over, mashing Pringles chips into his mouth, and they were spilling all over.

Then he passed out while I watched at a light, dumped the Pringles can onto the seat, and rolled onto the can and chips, crushing everything under him to little Pringally bits on the seat and spilling onto the floor.

I finally poured him out at his destination (as far as I know, it was.) Thankfully, it was right at North and Clark, and there are two 24 hour gas stations there, so I was able to vacuum out the car and clean everything off.

Pringles Guy was the worst of it. I gave him 2 stars.

I think Uber is a great idea. Certainly, the cat is out of the bag, and putting it back in would be impossible. Recently there was a cabbie strike to protest Uber, and the Uber and Lyft Drivers made out like bandits, laughing all the way.

It is good for the public in general, and you can make a little cash on the side. I think you could do it full time, if you wanted, but it is brutal on the cars. I like that they do background checks on their drivers, and how the business is conducted. I know they had some growth pangs a little while ago, but they seem to have weathered the storm.

Since there is no way for the driver to know where you go before you get in, I think it is a bit of a misnomer to say ride sharing. I think a better platform for true ‘ride sharing’ would be a system whereby you enter roughly your start and your destination, and if someone wants to jump in along your route, you accommodate them, and they contribute to the cost. That way, if you were heading from … say… Lincoln Park, to the United Center, Someone could see that you were willing to chip in, and if everyone threw in a couple bucks, it would work. Certainly there is a way to program THAT into a GPS driven system.

So yesterday I started back at work after a circus show trying to get my medical back off of deferral. I love my job, and the people I work with, but Uber certainly provided something to do, a little bit of cash, and a good time.

A post for Father's Day

A post for my dad....

It is interesting reading all the comments on social media from people having the 'Best Dad in the World,' etc... etc...

I don't begrudge anyone having a great dad; I think everyone SHOULD!

My dad was not a great dad. I think most people would score him as a 'good guy.'

He was not abusive, although he did spank us. There was no locking us in the basement for starvation, or pummeling till we cried for mercy, or any horror stories like that.

My dad did not scale mountains, or provide inspiration for millions... or thousands, or really hundreds.

But my dad was a good guy.

My dad was a weak man. He was drawn to alcohol and gambling. He wanted the 'fast buck.' He was embarrassed to be the son of immigrants, embarrassed by his father's heavy Irish brogue; His dad was 'off the boat,' a 'Mick.'

My dad wanted to be popular, he wanted to be the center of attention. When he was weak, alcohol would always fill in the gaps for him. When he did not know how to handle 2 rowdy boys and a rebellious youngest daughter, he turned to his good friend in the bottle, the one who would always be there for him, who would never let him down; always there to take the pain away.

My dad's mother never smiled.

I was fortunate a few years ago; Nicole, Thomas, and I went to stay at my Godfather's place in Naples, Florida. My Godfather (my uncle Jim) is the only person who knew my dad when he was still in high school; my mom would meet him quite a bit after that. My Godfather dated and then married my dad's big sister, Mary. Mary and Thomas; you can't really get more Irish than that, unless you fill out the list of other saint's names (Patrick, James, Michael, Bridget, Anne, Theresa, Nancy, etc... Ireland, the Land of Saints and Scholars, ya know.)

While we were there, I had the chance to find out a bit more about my dad, who died from cancer at the age of 57, in 1994.

My dad was a firefighter for the City of Chicago. In my uncle's words, "Your dad was the best firefighter the city had ever had. He could walk into a burning building that nobody else would even look in the door, and he would walk out carrying people from inside the building, and there would not be a scratch or burn on him. But your dad was a weak man. A good man, but a weak man."

My dad was my hero when I was younger (As it should be for every father.) He was big and strong, and he saved people and put out fires.

My dad was typical of firefighters of that era. He would come out of a burning building, smoke rising off of his heavy coat and helmet, coughing his lungs out, sit down on the side of the fire truck, pull out a pack of Camel cigarettes, and light up.

But my dad wanted to make the fast buck; he gambled, and got in trouble with the Mob. At one point he had to go to my Godfather, and ask him for money; The Mob had called his card due, and they were threatening harm to his children. He had nowhere to turn. My Godfather bailed him out. He wanted a better life, but he did not know how to get there. And then when the clouds were darkest, he could always turn to his friend in the bottle.

My dad had a laugh that would set off car alarms. He had a wicked good sense of humor, and he loved when something was just not what it seemed. We were at (at the time) Marriott's Great America (now Six Flags) and I remember he ordered something he thought sounded great, something he had never heard of, a 'pickle on a stick.' Well, he got the pickle on the stick. And he laughed... and laughed... and laughed... "it's a pickle... on a stick"... hahahahha. Oh, man, did he laugh. "The joke is on me, it is a pickle on a stick!"

My dad loved to cook, and he had some training. Some of my favorite memories are my dad cooking the big holiday dinners. Making stuffing from scratch, making sauces, basting the turkey. My dad showed me, although he was never able to 'teach' me, how to pay attention to food. How to love food. My dad was never fancy; he just wanted his food to taste good. But he loved it. He could make anything taste good.

My dad loved to dance. Even when he as starting to have problems with cancer and emphysema,he wanted to dance. I remember hearing on Polish Radio these words during a break in the news... "... and that congenial Irishman, Tommy Donohue, will be having his annual Polka Party at the Highlanders [Polish Highlander's Club, at Archer and Pulaski in Chicago] this Valentine's Day. Bring the kids, our good friend Eddie Blazonczyk and his Versatones will be playing for all of us..."

Eddie was a Grammy Polka winner, and he played my dad's polka party... the polka party from an Irishman.

My dad loved golf. ... and he stunk. Well, ok, he was not terrible, but he was not remotely good given how much he played. We were members at Ridge Country Club, originally as Social Members, which allowed us kids to swim all summer long, and then as Regular Members, so my dad could golf on his days off, and hobnob with people more successful than he was. He taught me to love golf. All of the subtle ways a ball can move on you.

Another favorite memory of mine is playing golf with my dad. Love of golf was killed by a horrible coach in High School... but I loved golfing with my dad. In golf, a golf hole has a 'handicap,' which tells you how hard the holes are in relation to the other holes on the course. So you play holes 1-18, but they could be in order of difficulty 1 (hardest,) 5,17,3,18... etc. We were playing a father/son tournament, and the 4th hole at Ridge was the Par 1; hardest hole on the golf course... a long par 4 (4 shots to get into the cup, for non-golfers.) My dad shanked his drive into the grass left of the fairway and barely beyond the tee. The tourny was 'alternate shot,' so that meant I got to go next. My dad was saying how much he hated this hole, he had never gotten par on it, and probably never would.

I picked out a 'ginty,' which was a wood with a metal prow under the base. My dad thought I shoudl use an iron, but I went with this club.

Well, I crushed it. Got every possible inch out of that club. Massive swing, massive hit, all the stars aligned and I hit the daylights out of that ball.

It popped up out of the grass, sailed over the entire fairway, and rolled up onto the green about 10 feet from the pin. My dad was jumping and yelling "That's my son!! did you see that shot?? That's my son!! Wow!!" We still had 2 shots to go to make 'par,' and we were on the green.

Dad hit a bit of a dead putt, and it stopped about 4 feet from the hole. The dreaded 3/4 foot putt range.

I just walked up calmly and putted it right into the hole. My dad picked me up and wanted to carry me off the green. He was yelling for the world to hear. It was so much fun.

We came in 2nd place in the tourny, to Ed Hayes and his dad. Good people to lose to, if you knew how well they golfed!

As a teenager, I made the inevitable drift away from my parents. I disliked my mom and I disliked my dad. I would argue about anything and everything. I had rights, you can't make me do anything, all the teen angst, everything you can imagine. It was so incredibly silly, and looking back, it is sad to think of those years when I could have enjoyed having my father around when instead I spurned him. I loved him, but I did not like him.

High school was rough. I needed my dad to help guide me through, but his weakness for alcohol took its toll. My mother filed for a divorce; that was the only way to make him shape up... and being removed from his family did not help at all.

He showed up at one of my band shows drunk. He was friends with our director, and when I saw him I ran up to say I was glad he had made it, but he was drunk. I could tell before I got close. All I wanted to do was forget he existed. I was so heartbroken, although I am sure it came out as anger at the time. I don't even know if I said more than 5 words to him.

My dad was why I got involved with music. He played flute when he was younger, and he had quite a bit of aptitude for it. He most likely could have played at the concert level, if he put his mind to it, from what little I have heard, but he was weak, he wanted to be popular, and that was not 'in.'

But I played saxophone because of him, and that led to playing flute for concert band, and then guitar and then bass. He loved music... all kinds of music. But he wanted music to dance to. I met so many amazing people in band, and that led to theater, and there I finally found my voice,  and developed the social skills that I am lucky to posses (or to be possessed by, the jury is still out.)

We rarely spoke much after I dropped out of college. I could not reconcile his drinking, and he could not find a way to reach through the ever thickening fog to reach me.

We still had some great moments. We had a lot of them, and I loved to see him, but I couldn't stand to see him drunk, and he drank all the time.

He wanted me to go to a trade school, since I dropped out of college. Get a good job. Make some money. Be a good person.

He always told me You treat a lady like a lady, period. Always walk on the outside, always open the doors, always be deferential. Have respect for ladies, right up to the point when they prove themselves to no long be ladies, and even then you open car doors for them.
i
My dad never understood why I started flying, and I never got to take him up in a plane. I knwo he would have loved it. He took such joy in living... it was so heart breaking watching him sink down further and further.

We all have Demons. Some of us are equipped to fight them, some of us get the strength from our parents, some from friends, some from Faith. My dad had no backup plan.

He was a very affectionate guy. He loved big hugs. His parents never were able to show him affection, especially his mother, who was one of the coldest women in history. When my Godfather married Mary [Uncle Jim's story here,] he said he went to shake his now mother-in-law's hand, and she did not even flinch; she never reached out her hand, she just smiled and said 'congratulations,' and then stopped smiling again. How would your life be if that was all you had to draw upon?

My dad was a good guy, not a great man. We all have our demons, and some of us fight a losing battle.

My dad loved to laugh, he loved music and dance. He was a fun guy to be around. He tried to be the life of the party, when he didn't even notice that people just liked having him around when he wasn't the life of the party... but he never noticed that.

I miss my dad.

I wish I could talk to him, and tell a younger him that it would be ok, that he could be a good man, that just being a father and trying to raise 3 kids when you had no examples of familial love but still being a good guy would WORK OUT. I would tell him that there is so much more that he could experience, and that his family wanted him home. He was not prepared for being alone, because that is all he got from his own mother, abandonment. He had no tools to fight his demons.

I wish he could meet the amazing loving incredible little boy that is named after him. Thomas Donohue. He is just the most beautiful boy, and I think my dad would be tickled constantly to know him, to see him and hear him with his name, and to see how much love it is possible to have.

I love my dad so much I wanted our son named after him.

The grandson he will never meet in person, but who has his spirit and love of music, and fun, and laughter... and his name.

My dad loved all of us in the only way he could, and to the best of his abilities. We loved him too, but there is no fairy tale ending; we were never fully reconciled to each other before his race to doom let him forgo cancer treatments, and he just let himself die.

My dad was a good man. Not a great man, but a good man.

Happy Father's Dad, dad. I am sorry you missed so much, but I know you love all the same.

Your son,
Scott

50 Secrets? Wow, they don't get out much!

Reader's Digest published a list titled "50 Secrets Pilots Wont Tell You," by Michelle Crouch; who, I guess needs to get out more. Or maybe not believe everything pilots tell her. Admittedly, if you are outside the aviation world, all of these might make some kind of sense, but wow, did I want to barf.

So, having given some foreshadowing of my reaction to the article, here are the quotes (with 'who said what,') and my honest opinion of them. *The Reader's Digest quotes are in blue, my responses are in black. If you can't get colors on your smart phone, or whatever, I can't help you. I am not based here, and am lost, too.

We asked 17 pilots from across the country to give us straight answers about maddening safety rules, inexplicable delays, the air and attitudes up there—and what really happens behind the cockpit door. What they told us will change the way you fly.

Good Lord, could you make it more dramatic? "change the way you fly?" Really? 95% of the people who read this will still continue to check the cheapest box on Kayak.com no matter what is on your website

“We miss the peanuts too.” -US Airways pilot, South Carolina

Midway Airlines had honey roasted peanuts... yeah, I would be pushing 300lbs by now....

What You Don’t Want to Know
“I’m constantly under pressure to carry less fuel than I’m comfortable with. Airlines are always looking at the bottom line, and you burn fuel carrying fuel. Sometimes if you carry just enough fuel and you hit thunderstorms or delays, then suddenly you’re running out of gas and you have to go to an alternate airport.” -Captain at a major airline

"...suddenly you're running out of gas and you have to go to an alternate airport." Yes, we are tight on fuel. Nearly all the time. Honestly, though, if there are chances of TRA or +TRA (thundershowers with rain, or thundershowers with intense rain (thunderstorms are considered intense, bar none,)) and you did not plan more fuel, or request more fuel, then you as PILOT IN COMMAND are at fault. Our job as Captains is to be the stopgap and plan for contingencies. Of course they want us to carry less fuel, because it takes fuel to carry fuel (They would love for us to carry no fuel... they are working on that.) If you fail to plan, then you fail, period. I know sometimes 'things happen.' That is why you plan for contingencies. If 'suddenly you're running out of gas' then you did not plan correctly. Don't blame the company, which is an evil you damn well know.

“Sometimes the airline won’t give us lunch breaks or even time to eat. We have to delay flights just so we can get food.” -First officer on a regional carrier

Sometimes we are delayed, and even the planned break (if you are fortunate enough to have one in your schedule) doesn't work out. Yes, we will delay flights to get food, either for my fellow pilot of for my Flight Attendant. Fuel for the airplane, food for my crew. After all, I have all day. ;)

“We tell passengers what they need to know. We don’t tell them things that are going to scare the pants off them. So you’ll never hear me say, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we just had an engine failure,’ even if that’s true.” -Jim Tilmon, retired American Airlines pilot, Phoenix

I also have never said the word 'turbulence' on the PA. I say 'bumps.' Turbulence is scary, it breaks airplanes, but bumps? Yeah, my car goes over bumps, no problem, right? So many people are discombobulated to begin with when they hit the airport, there is no need to add to their stress. Although if the engine did fall off the airplane, they might notice that.

“The Department of Transportation has put such an emphasis on on-time performance that we pretty much aren’t allowed to delay a flight anymore, even if there are 20 people on a connecting flight that’s coming in just a little late.” -Commercial pilot, Charlotte, North Carolina

This is also driven by the surveys that y'all fill out. Number one answer, for well over 30 years? Depart On Time. Not "depart with all the passengers on time," or anything like that, just depart on time. Mostly because people forget that who cares when you depart? If we depart an hour late, but manage to arrive on time (I've come close to that) then who cares what time you departed? There is a group in our Systems Operation Control called "Yield Management." They look at delays, crew and aircraft movement, cost of cancellations, etc, and they make the decisions on which flights get cancelled and which ones do not. The FAA might call and say 'AA needs to cut 35% of their flights between 3pm and 8pm' [like in a massive snowstorm.] Yield Management makes the decisions which flights get cut, which ones depart, which ones swap arrival times, all that stuff. Pilots, Gate Agents, FAs, Baggage peeps... we have no control over that. I had a passenger tell me the other day that we had given him 3 gate changes, and we always do that to just him. I told him "Yes, sir, we did. None of the other passengers on that flight mattered, neither did the ground crews, who have to juggle the connecting inbound and outbound bags, nor the fueling department, which has to chase the aircraft down, nor maintenance, which might have scheduled work to do, nor catering, and certainly none of the agents inside the terminal nor any of your fellow passengers mind running back and forth across the airport. It was all just for you." (BTW, you can see why a job in Customer Service might not be the best place for me.) And this was a day they were swapping out gates to just simply get flights in and out. Sorry.

“The truth is, we’re exhausted. Our work rules allow us to be on duty 16 hours without a break. That’s many more hours than a truck driver. And unlike a truck driver, who can pull over at the next rest stop, we can’t pull over at the next cloud.” -Captain at a major airline

This is actually under the old rules. We were allowed to be schedule 14 hour duty days, extendable to 16. Now they took a bunch of science and tightened that up a little bit. (FAs still do not have any laws restricting their time. As far as the FAA is concerned, they can be run 24/7/365. All their restrictions are contractual. )

What We Want You to Know “Some FAA rules don’t make sense to us either. Like the fact that when we’re at 39,000 feet going 400 miles an hour, in a plane that could hit turbulence at any minute, [flight attendants] can walk around and serve hot coffee and Chateaubriand. But when we’re on the ground on a flat piece of asphalt going five to ten miles an hour, they’ve got to be buckled in like they’re at NASCAR.” -Jack Stephan, US Airways captain based in Annapolis, Maryland, who has been flying since 1984

If USAir is still serving Chateaubriand, I cannot wait for the merger to be done! Gotta get me some of that! This is a 50/50 deal. Yes, FAs are up and about when we could hit turbulence 'at any minute (way to scare 'em, Jackie!!) If I remember my stats correctly, the #2 reason FAs end up taking trips to the hospital is sudden, unanticipated a/c movements on the ground. The #1 reason is turbulence in flight.

“The two worst airports for us: Reagan National in Washington, D.C., and John Wayne in Orange County, California. You’re flying by the seat of your pants trying to get in and out of those airports. John Wayne is especially bad because the rich folks who live near the airport don’t like jet noise, so they have this noise abatement procedure where you basically have to turn the plane into a ballistic missile as soon as you’re airborne.” -Pilot, South Carolina

Reagan National (DCA) is a piece of cake. I really hope that any pilot worth a crap is not challenged by landing there. Sure, the airspace around the airport is pretty unforgiving (fly over the White House, lose your job!.. or get shot down. Whoops!) but the airport itself is fun. If 'flying by the seat of your pants' means 'manipulating the controls of the aircraft so you can land,' then yes, you are. Most pilots enjoy a little skill work... and if they don't, then that is sad. One of the joys of being a pilot is.... (surprise!!) actually flying the plane! If you consider the Noise Abatement Procedure at SNA a ballistic missile departure, then you're doing it wrong. I am not a fan of it, but it is not dangerous, just stupid. Rich people problems around that place!

“At some airports with really short runways, you’re not going to have a smooth landing no matter how good we are: John Wayne Airport; Jackson Hole, Wyoming; Chicago Midway; and Reagan National.” -Joe D’Eon, a pilot at a major airline who produces a podcast at flywithjoe.com

If you can't get a smooth landing at MDW, DCA, or SNA (assuming you actually have enough time in your aircraft to have on average decent landings,) then you need to check your license at the door and go into another profession. Come on, Mr D'Eon, fly in my jumpseat, and we'll do a visual to 1, transition to 33, and I will land it with flaps 22, in the Touchdown Zone, make the turnoff at Sierra, or Kilo if they ask nicely. You won't even spill your coffee. Why? Because I can actually fly my plane.

“I may be in uniform, but that doesn’t mean I’m the best person to ask for directions in the airport. We’re in so many airports that we usually have no idea.” -Pilot for a regional carrier, Charlotte, North Carolina

But ask anyways! Maybe I am based at the airport, or maybe I am coming from the place you are trying to locate, or maybe you just want to know the way out! Even if I do not know the airport, I am used to airport signage, and can at least point someone in the right direction. Maybe. But you can always ask! Jeez, Mr Pilot for an unnamed regional carrier in Charlotte, just try a little bit.

“This happens all the time: We’ll be in Pittsburgh going to Philly, and there will be a weather delay. The weather in Pittsburgh is beautiful. Then I’ll hear passengers saying, ‘You know, I just called my friend in Philly, and it’s beautiful there too,’ like there’s some kind of conspiracy or something. But in the airspace between Pittsburgh and Philly there’s a huge thunderstorm.” -Jack Stephan

There also might be CHEMTRAILS! We fly between the cities, not just at the cities, so weather between them obviously could effect our flight.

“You may go to an airline website and buy a ticket, pull up to its desk at the curb, and get onto an airplane that has a similar name painted on it, but half the time, you’re really on a regional airline. The regionals aren’t held to the same safety standards as the majors: Their pilots aren’t required to have as much training and experience, and the public doesn’t know that.” -Captain at a major airline

"...aren't held to the same safety standards as the majors..."  Please, show me proof. If you cannot, then please do not make accusations such as this. Branded flying is a whole 'nuther kettle of fish.

“Most of the time, how you land is a good indicator of a pilot’s skill. So if you want to say something nice to a pilot as you’re getting off the plane, say ‘Nice landing.’ We do appreciate that.” -Joe D’Eon

Eh. Usually if a passenger says "Nice landing," we say thanks, but when out of earshot we'll say "What about my take off? That was a work of art!!" or "I had my eyes closed in terror the entire time, the FO had to coach me down!" We grade ourselves by our landings, and we grade against each other for fun.  The FAs will grade us, too ("Did we land, or were we shot down?") A simple "Thanks!" is great, or say "hi" on your way in. And please, let your kids see the flight deck... they are always welcome if I am flying; take their picture up there if it is their first flight, too.

“No, it’s not your imagination: Airlines really have adjusted their flight arrival times so they can have a better record of on-time arrivals. So they might say a flight takes two hours when it really takes an hour and 45 minutes.” -AirTran Airways captain, Atlanta

This is true. If the Gov't is tracking your arrivals for on time performance, and you can put some padding in there, then wouldn't you? It is not like getting you there early is a terrible thing!

When to Worry
“It’s one thing if the pilot puts the seat belt sign on for the passengers. But if he tells the flight attendants to sit down, you’d better listen. That means there’s some serious turbulence ahead.” -John Greaves, airline accident lawyer and former airline captain, Los Angeles

Yeah, don't get up if we tell the FAs to sit. That is what one of instructors calls a 'Clue Bird.'

“There’s no such thing as a water landing. It’s called crashing into the ocean.” -Pilot, South Carolina

This pilot needs to be smacked with something large. "Crashing into the ocean"?!?!?!?!?!? The term for a 'water landing' is ditching. There are procedures for it (depending upon the airplane you are flying,) and while not something we plan on doing (hard to reuse that plane!) and it is not like we practice it, it is there. "Crashing into the ocean"... ugh... 

“A plane flies into a massive updraft, which you can’t see on the radar at night, and it’s like hitting a giant speed bump at 500 miles an hour. It throws everything up in the air and then down very violently. That’s not the same as turbulence, which bounces everyone around for a while.” -John Nance, aviation safety analyst and retired airline captain, Seattle

If you fly into an updraft, and everything gets thrown up into the air, then it is turbulence. That is one of the definitions of.... turbulence. 

“Is traveling with a baby in your lap safe? No. It’s extremely dangerous. If there’s any impact or deceleration, there’s a good chance you’re going to lose hold of your kid, and he becomes a projectile. But the government’s logic is that if we made you buy an expensive seat for your baby, you’d just drive, and you’re more likely to be injured driving than flying.” -Patrick Smith

"Extremely dangerous." Extremely???? Wow. Strong word! I would say about as dangerous as having your seat belt undone. Yeah, if something happens it would be bad, but most of the time nothing happens. The gov'ts logic is correct, when viewed this way. A certain percentage of people would not fly if they had to buy a seat for their infant, and would drive. Driving is slightly more dangerous than flying, due to a number of factors, but including issues like; you are on the road much longer as a time factor, exposing you to more time for an accident to take place; Non-fatal car accidents are far more likely than non-fatal aircraft accidents once we get into 'you will have an accident' territory. It is not a terribly big issue. A number of FAs would disagree with me on that, but as a father and pilot I had no issues with my wife and I traveling with our infant son as a lap child. 

When Not to Worry
“Pilots find it perplexing that so many people are afraid of turbulence. It’s all but impossible for turbulence to cause a crash. We avoid turbulence not because we’re afraid the wing is going to fall off but because it’s annoying.” -Patrick Smith

Annoying and tiring and inconvenient and just basically not fun. Oh, and there is a minor... small... possibility that something might get 'bent' (see definition of 'Turbulence-Severe'.)

“People always ask, ‘What’s the scariest thing that’s ever happened to you?’ I tell them it was a van ride from the Los Angeles airport to the hotel, and I’m not kidding.” -Jack Stephan

Being in a van driven to the hotel in a snowstorm in Buffalo, NY, and almost skidding off the road at least a dozen times (and going down the interstate sideways, losing control numerous times, etc...) makes losing an engine in cruise-climb a walk in the park.

“I’ve been struck by lightning twice. Most pilots have. Airplanes are built to take it. You hear a big boom and see a big flash and that’s it. You’re not going to fall out of the sky.” -Pilot for a regional carrier, Charlotte, North Carolina

Most pilots have not. Airplanes have ways of dealing with it, but they don't like it. You are pretty certainly going to lose something... instruments, lights, something will check out for the rest of the trip. Modern aircraft are wildly electronic and lightning can play havoc with that. Or, nothing will happen. You just don't know.

We Don’t Get It
“Most of you wouldn’t consider going down the highway at 60 miles an hour without your seat belt fastened. But when we’re hurtling through the air at 500 miles an hour and we turn off the seat belt sign, half of you take your seat belts off. But if we hit a little air pocket, your head will be on the ceiling.” -Captain at a major airline

A little air pocket should not send anyone to the ceiling, although if you hit it right, everyone will be wearing their seat belts after you go through the pocket. I don't know many 'Captains' at major airlines who describe flying as 'hurtling through the air.'

“If you’re going to recline your seat, for God’s sake, please check behind you first. You have no idea how many laptops are broken every year by boorish passengers who slam their seat back with total disregard to what’s going on behind them.” -John Nance

or get a drink spilled into your laptop. Either would suck. 

“There is no safest place to sit. In one accident, the people in the back are dead; in the next, it’s the people up front.” -John Nance

In general, the people in the back are more likely to live. It mostly depends on how the accident develops. The people in the back are the 'last ones to the scene of the crime.' They are also most likely sitting on top of a bin full of bags, too. If the plane goes skidding off the runway into the trees, the people in the front will cushion the blow for the people in the back. BTW, pilots tend to die in very high numbers in accidents... we're the first ones to the 'scene of the crime.'

Advice for Nervous Fliers
“The smoothest place to sit is often over or near the wing. The bumpiest place to sit is in the back. A plane is like a seesaw. If you’re in the middle, you don’t move as much.” -Patrick Smith

Depends on the plane. Aircraft with under-wing mounted engines (737, 747, 757, 767,) tend to have their center of gravity near the wing (small physics lesson-- everything will rotate around the CG... so the back of the plane might go up, the front of the plane will go down, but the CG will experience relatively no movement, or only a little, like the pivot on a teeter-toter,) so the smoother ride will be over or close to the wing. On T-Tail aircraft, however, (MD-80, DC-9, EMB-145, CRJ,) the CG is aft, towards the tail, so the plane reacts like a diving board; soft towards the back, but the pilots are out at the far end of the diving board. You might get a few bumps, but our eyes are turning to jelly.

“If you’re a nervous flier, book a morning flight. The heating of the ground later causes bumpier air, and it’s much more likely to thunderstorm in the afternoon.” -Jerry Johnson, pilot, Los Angeles

Applies to summer flying far more than winter flying, but the advantage of morning flights is there are fewer delays, because they have not 'built up' over the course of multiple flights all day.

What Really Drives Us Crazy
“Please don’t complain to me about your lost bags or the rotten service or that the airline did this or that. My retirement was taken to help subsidize your $39 airfare.” -Pilot, South Carolina

Ouch, bitter. 

“Here’s a news flash: We’re not sitting in the cockpit listening to the ball game. Sometimes we can ask the controllers to go to their break room to check the score. But when I fly to Pittsburgh on a Sunday afternoon, the passengers send the flight attendants up at least ten times to ask us the Steelers score.” -Commercial pilot, Charlotte, North Carolina

The controllers in all odds actually have the game on right in front of them. I prefer to make up scores to games I know nothing about. 

“I am so tired of hearing ‘Oh my God, you’re a girl pilot.’ When you see a black pilot, do you say ‘Oh my God, you’re a black pilot’?” -Pilot for a regional carrier
Those Silly Rules, Explained

I had a passenger in Midland, Texas, say to my very pregnant FO (actually, it was her last trip before maternity leave would ground her) "They let little ladies like you fly?" My response of "I hear they are gonna let them vote, soon, too!" probably did not go over well. 

“We don’t make you stow your laptop because we’re worried about electronic interference. It’s about having a projectile on your lap. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to get hit in the head by a MacBook going 200 miles per hour.” -Patrick Smith

Unsecured things fly around the cabin and hurt people. If our gear collapses on landing, we're gonna careen around a little bit before we stop, most likely. Be nice to strangers (and our FA, who happens to be all the way in front, and is the target of anything that will be unsecured if we suddenly stop.)

“People don’t understand why they can’t use their cell phones. Well, what can happen is 12 people will decide to call someone just before landing, and I can get a false reading on my instruments saying that we are higher than we really are.” -Jim Tilmon

Jury is out. We can hear GSM phones turn on in our headphones through the radios (honest, place a call while your AM radio is on in your car. Hear that? That is what our radios do, too. And our navigation equipment is based on the same radios. You do the math,) and I am pretty sure we could make the nav needles move around a bit. This is a combination of safety 'just in case' and practicality. Aircraft are measured very carefully for shielding and placement of antennas. They don't just put all those pretty little antennas all over the aircraft randomly, they are placed optimally to not interfere with each other, and they are not accounting for all kinds of random unshielded electronics devices. Also, cell phone towers are designed for 'line of sight,' so really a phone may be in range of 2 or 3 towers, but not more... at low altitude, you might be in range of a dozen or more, and cell phone companies don't need that kind of load on their systems. Just wait that extra 90 seconds to find out the latest that Kim Kardashian did... really, you'll be better off.

“We’re not trying to ruin your fun by making you take off your headphones. We just want you to be able to hear us if there’s an emergency.” -Patrick Smith

Props to the FAs. I would certainly want to be able to hear everything in an emergency, wouldn't you? No? 

“We ask you to put up the window shade so the flight attendants can see outside in an emergency, to assess if one side is better for an evacuation. It also lets light into the cabin if it goes dark and helps passengers get oriented if the plane flips or rolls over.” -Patrick Smith

Although I think if the airplane flips over passengers will be far more disoriented by the sudden poop in their collective pants, this holds water.  Just listen to your FA... They really do not do all of this in an arbitrary way, they are there for your safety. Honest.

It’s Not All Glamour Up in the Air
“When you get on that airplane at 7 a.m., you want your pilot to be rested and ready. But the hotels they put us in now are so bad that there are many nights when I toss and turn. They’re in bad neighborhoods, they’re loud, they’ve got bedbugs, and there have been stabbings in the parking lot.” -Jack Stephan

We had a pilot stabbed in the parking lot in Raleigh many years ago, an AA pilot was shot in the eye in the parking lot of the training hotel, and of course there have been muggings, etc. Most of the time hotels are decent.... Usually when we stay someplace in a great location or quite a bit fancier than we are used to, our first comment when we walk into the lobby is "This ain't gonna last long."

“Those buddy passes they give us? I give them only to my enemies now. Sure, you can get a $1,000 airfare to Seattle for $100. But since you have to fly standby, it will take you three months to get back because you can’t get a seat.” -Pilot, South Carolina

Hahahaha.... oh, so true. So true. It is amazing how many times people flying standby can get out but not back. 

Here’s a Little More Free Advice
“Cold on the airplane? Tell your flight attendant. We’re in a constant battle with them over the temperature. They’re moving all the time, up and down the aisles, so they are always calling and saying, ‘Turn up the air.’ But most passengers I know are freezing.” -Captain at a major carrier

I don't know any pilot in a battle with the FAs over temperatures. We certainly don't have passengers telling us about the temps during a flight. Our temp controls are separate from theirs, too. On my plane, the back tends to be warm, the front tends to be cold.

“I always tell my kids to travel in sturdy shoes. If you have to evacuate and your flip-flops fall off, there you are standing on the hot tarmac or in the weeds in your bare feet.” -Joe D’Eon

There is something to be said for this. At the least, don't take your flip flops off. You might need your feet to take you over some rough patches. 

“Most people get sick after traveling not because of what they breathe but because of what they touch. Always assume that the tray table and the button to push the seat back have not been wiped down, though we do wipe down the lavatory.” -Patrick Smith

I would go even that the lav has not been wiped, either. On the flip side, don't be a chicken to touch things... who knows where your fingers have been!?

“The general flow of air in any airplane is from front to back. So if you’re really concerned about breathing the freshest possible air or not getting too hot, sit as close to the front as you can. Planes are generally warmest in the back.” -Tech pilot at a regional airline, Texas

Pretty plane specific, but close enough to what I said earlier.

“I know pilots who spend a quarter million on their education and training, then that first year as a pilot, they qualify for food stamps.” -Furloughed first officer, Texas

1/4 Million dollars?!? $250,000?? Really? Where the hell did they go to school? Does Princeton offer an Aviation Management course? WOW! We have had a lot of pilots (and FAs!!) on food stamps. Some of the starting wages are borderline criminal. A post on that to come sometime soon! (in the next 4 years or so, the way I am going....)

“Do pilots sleep in there? Definitely. Sometimes it’s just a ten-minute catnap, but it happens.” -John Greaves

My fav quote-- Captain to First Officer-- "If I wake up and catch you sleeping one more time..."

“People tend to think the airplane is just flying itself. Trust me, that’s not true. It can fly by itself sometimes. But you’ve always got your hands on the controls waiting for it to mess up. And it does mess up.” -Pilot, South Carolina

"...always got your hands on the controls waiting for it to mess up." Wow, this is gonna be one stressed out dude! In nearly 11,000 of part 121 (which means airline) flying and 14 years, I have never had an autopilot kick off for anything other than turbulence, and that was MAYBE 3 times. Less stress there, pilot dude, less stress, please.

“One time I rode in the jump seat of a 747 freighter, which carries cargo, not passengers. As soon as the doors closed, the first officer went in back and put on a bathrobe and slippers. No kidding. He said, ‘I’ll be damned if I’m going to wear a tie for a bunch of boxes.’” -Tech pilot at a regional airline, Texas

Cargo pilots are weird. 

“We don’t wear our hats in the cockpit, by the way. On TV and in the Far Side comic, you always see these pilots with their hats on, and they have their headsets on over the hat, and that always makes us laugh.” -Joe D’Eon

I know a guy who did wear his hat with the headset over it. You all know who these guys are, too.

“Remember this before you complain about the cost of a ticket: Fares today are about the same as they were in the 1980s.” -Patrick Smith

Before deregulation, only 10% of the public had flown. In the late 2000s, only 5% of the public (USA) has not flown. 

A Parting Thought
“Here’s the truth about airline jobs: You don’t have as much time off as your neighbors think you have, you don’t make as much money as your relatives think you make, and you don’t have as many girlfriends as your wife thinks you have. Still, I can’t believe they pay me to do this.” -Commercial pilot, Charlotte, North Carolina

I can totally believe they pay me to do this, because I worked my ass off to get to the point where I could get hired, and it cost me a pretty penny. All in all, I love going to work every day. I work with great people, and that makes up for all the political corporate crap you could ever throw at me. If you wanted to have a girlfriend in every 'port,' you would have to be able to get the same schedules, same overnights, over and over... impossible!! I have more time off than an average 9-5 worker, but an unfortunate percentage of it is spent in hotels away from home. Advantage-- when I am home, I am home. They don't call me on my day off and say "Scott, you need to come fly this plane, nobody else can do it!" (although they might not be able to do it with quite the same panache!) Downside, when I am gone, I am gone. If something happens at home, I am hours away, sometimes many, and for our international flying friends, they can be half a world away. I miss my family as much as anyone else does.

Three Things Pilots Will Never Say

I am just going to replace what they wrote with what I have heard....
           "No, thank you, I am not interested in free drinks."
           "A Free USA Today (or Wall Street Journal?) I think I will pass."
           "You know, I make plenty of money, we should all take a pay cut."

If you made it to the end, you are crazier than I am for writing this thing.

Cheers, y'all.