Learning to Walk

2010-01-22T12:49:00.001-07:00

This is the birth announcement I just finished cross-stitching for Nate. His name and birth date will go in the empty box in the center.

Restoration

2010-01-14T21:29:00.003-07:00

God's been doing big stuff in my life over the last few weeks. Since 2003 I've had some great ideas about how I was going to serve God in Africa as a pilot/mechanic... but in pursuing those lofty goals, I let my relationship with God slip in a major way. I lost sight of the day-to-day, and that's too high a price, even when what I was trying to buy seems like such a great and noble thing. Since I lost my job in October, I've had all these questions about the future, about work, about whether we'd ever make it on the mission field. I haven't really gotten answers to any of those questions, but just about all of them were prompted by a wrong perspective on things, so the answers don't really matter as much as I thought they did. In point of fact, I've done some growing lately that I wouldn't have done if life had gone the way I thought it should have. And I'm crazy-grateful to God for that growth. Matthew 16:26

2009-11-15T21:31:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been asked a question and you were utterly perplexed as to how to answer, because the only way to answer it properly was to tell a long story, but the asker was only looking for a simple "yes" or "no"? I got asked one of those questions Wednesday night. At the time, I was mercifully saved from attempting to stutter my way through an answer, but I've been thinking about the question since it was asked, and I still have no clue how to answer it simply. What's really funny is that, at a time when I'm absolutely desperate for clear, genuine encouragement in mine and Jen's course, this question was posed to me by a prominent member of our church here, and it only reinforced my perception that our current position is dreadfully misunderstood by so many people around me. While I make a point of not being insulted when people, in ignorance, say or ask offensive things, in truth this question was insulting to me. It hurt.

Sucker Punch!

2009-11-02T09:36:00.003-07:00

Jen said in her latest blog post that I would provide details later. Fair enough. Since I'm online and can't find a single job for which I qualify, I may as well give you those details now. So, as I've mentioned, I found this job opening in a periodical called Air Jobs Digest. I e-mailed my resume and the owner of the company e-mailed me back, telling me to feel free to call him about the job. Keep in mind that I stated very plainly on my resume that I was still in school and wouldn't finish til the end of September. I called the guy, and we had a sort of impromptu phone interview, during which I told him, again, that I was still in school. He expressed a desire, several times, to meet me in person, so I flew from AZ to ID to meet the guy, at my own expense. We face-to-face interviewed for over two hours, during which time I told him, again, that I was still in school (you're seeing a theme here, and that's good). The guy decided to hire me, on a thirty-day trial period, beginning as soon as possible AFTER I FINISHED SCHOOL. So I finished school and Jen and I moved to ID, and I started work. Last Thursday was day 30 of my thirty-day trial period, so at the end of the day, I asked my boss for an answer on whether or not they were keeping me. After a fair amount of hemming and hawing, he told me he thinks I'll be a fine mechanic once I get up to speed, but I'm currently slow because I don't have any experience in the field (BECAUSE I JUST FINISHED SCHOOL). That being the case, he's losing money on me and he can't afford to keep me. I asked him if I should bother showing up the following day (Friday). He asked me if I wanted to show up and I said yes, so he told me to show up.

Friday morning I got to work, and we had no electricity in the hangar because of an electrical fire in our main breaker box. My supervisor (not my boss) pulled me outside and asked me what had happened the previous day, because our boss wouldn't tell him anything. I gave him the whole story, and he asked me, "If I can talk the boss into keeping you on at reduced pay until you find something else, would you be interested?" I couldn't really say why, but I didn't have peace with the idea. I said yes anyway, though, because a little income is better than no income.

Lunch time came, and I went home to eat with Jen, like I normally do. At 1:00 I was back at work, just like normal. My boss and my supervisor came in a couple minutes later, and everything seemed normal. Our power was back on, so I walked into the hangar to get started on a project. My supervisor followed me in, and said quietly, "Why don't you pack up your toolbox and I'll drive it home for you?" I said, "Wow, the conversation went that well, huh?" He replied, "Yeah, at this point, I'll be lucky to have a job on Monday." So I made sure all my tools were in my toolbox, and wheeled it out to my supervisor's truck. Meanwhile, my supervisor took my timecard to my boss, to make sure I got my last check before I left. Then he came out and helped me lift my box into his truck, and we got it all strapped down. After that, my supervisor ran back into the building real quick to grab my check (keep in mind that I hadn't so much as glimpsed my boss during this time, except for when he first got back from lunch). I followed my supervisor in (I don't think I was supposed to). My boss was standing at the front counter, talking to a customer. When my supervisor walked in, my boss just held out his hand with my check in it. He didn't say a word to my supervisor; he didn't even look at him. So I started walking toward my boss. He noticed me and looked wary for a second, so I stuck out my hand to make it plain I wanted to shake his hand. Then he stuck out his hand; I shook it and said, "Thank you for the opportunity," and I walked out.

My supervisor followed me home with my tools. After we got everything unloaded, he told me I have his phone number so call him if I need anything, and to use him if I need a reference. I asked him again, "So the conversation really went that bad?" He answered, "Let me put it this way: sometimes people REALLY don't like hearing the truth." And that was all he'd say about it. It was clear to me that he felt really awful about my being let go like that, but he was powerless to do anything about it. And that's the story.

Here's where I'm at now. I've been pursuing aviation since 2003, when I was so certain I'd been called to it by God. Jen and I spent 3 years in AZ so I could get my commercial pilot certificate, my instrument rating, and my A&P certificate. Now that I'm looking for a job in my field, it strikes me how completely worthless my education has been. I don't have the minimum hours required for ANY pilot job, I wasn't able to get my flight instructor certificate so I can't even teach, and thanks to the economy there really aren't any entry-level mechanic jobs out there right now. Lest you think I'm exaggerating, Cessna (one of the biggest general-aviation aircraft manufacturers) has laid off about 70% of its workforce in the last year or so, and all the other aircraft and engine manufacturers are following suit. The market is saturated with experienced mechanics who are scooping up all the jobs that, at one time, would have been the domain of the newly-certificated. I'm seriously questioning what I have, for the past 6 years, believed to be my calling. I'm finding it hard not to deeply regret not going to school for something, ANYTHING, else. I'm wondering if it was all a mistake. Don't get me wrong: I still have faith in God. I still believe He is who He is. I'm just wondering if I somehow misheard Him, if it was all just wishful thinking on my part. After all, He made me with certain strengths and skills, and those strengths and skills are certainly not compatible with aviation. Doesn't it seem far more likely He'd call me to something that made use of the skills and abilities He's given me?

2009-10-13T19:15:00.002-07:00

I've been thinking for a while now about giving an update on here, since the last time I blogged we were still living in AZ, and I hadn't done my powerplant practicals yet. Now we're in Idaho, and my practicals seem like ancient history. Suffice it to say, I passed practicals, and I did it in a single day, no less. So now I'm working as an aircraft mechanic in southern Idaho. Or, rather, I'm getting my REAL education in aircraft maintenance. I started work on the 29th of Sept, and quickly discovered that my 15-month maintenance education was almost completely useless, when it comes to actually maintaining actual aircraft. The last couple weeks have been ENORMOUSLY frustrating and difficult, but I'm learning quite a bit (it feels like I've learned more in the past 2 weeks, than I did in 15 months at Cochise). It's hard to go from being top of your class, to feeling completely clueless and useless when it really matters. I'm still in the "trial period" of my job, which only makes me all the more conscious of every mistake I make and the depressing number of times in a day when I have to admit I have no clue how to do a project. I'm sure someday I'll look back at this time and laugh, but right now it's certainly doing an amazing job of keeping me humble.

Hitting the Wall Hard Enough to Splatter

2009-09-16T09:50:00.002-07:00

For two weeks now, my life has been a discouraging marathon of frantically studying my Powerplant textbook, overloading to the point of forgetting what I've already studied, then scrambling to try to relearn the stuff I just forgot. And then, when that all gets too wearisome, I pack a few boxes which, on the whole, is far more satisfying and far less stressful than cramming. At the same time, though, it's hard to predict what we will and won't need to use/wear/read/etc in the next 9 days, so it's hard to know exactly what can and cannot be packed just now. It's also a little frustrating, because my FAA examiner won't return my calls to verify that I'm testing this weekend. If I don't test this weekend, then we can't move next week. If we can't move next week, I can't start my job on the 28th. If I can't start my job on the 28th, I don't know if I'll still have a job. So I'm stuck in this holding pattern that just begs and begs to be a source of ENORMOUS anxiety in my life, and all the while I'm trying to jam about 700 pages of information into my brain before this Saturday. I'm tired, and I mean just absolutely burned out. I'm frustrated. And I'm trying so very, very hard not to be discouraged or afraid. The war between my spirit and my flesh has never been so dramatically obvious in my heart. I have this constant murmuring in my mind born of all the 400 or so pages I've already read, and underneath that, I hear this: "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." So here I am.

The Scoop on Idaho

2009-08-26T19:25:00.000-07:00

There are lots of questions regarding my new job and our upcoming move to Idaho. I'm going to attempt to answer as many of those questions as I can, all in one fell swoop. Here goes...

I first read about the job in the Air Jobs Digest, which is this periodical consisting of nothing but aviation-related classified ads. The ad was maybe 2 lines long, and didn't really say much, but I was e-mailing my resume to other places, so I figured I'd toss out a line and see if anyone bit. The next day I got a reply from the owner of the business in question, telling me to feel free to call him about the position. I called him the day after that, and we talked for maybe 20 minutes. His name is Kevin; he owns an FBO that does maintenance on General Aviation aircraft, at the airport in Burley, Idaho, which is about 45 minutes east of Twin Falls. His FBO maintains all the aircraft for the Civil Air Patrol in Idaho and Utah, plus the firefighting aircraft for Idaho. He keeps a staff of maybe 3 mechanics, in addition to himself, and was looking to fill his #3 spot. He thought I sounded like a good guy, but really wanted to meet me. I closed my flight account at the college, which gave us a little extra money, and I flew out this past weekend. I met Kevin at his shop on Saturday, and we talked for about 2 and a half hours. He offered me the position, which I gladly accepted.

I finish school on September 24, and Kevin is expecting me at work on September 28. I'll be working Monday through Friday, 8 - 5, with paid holidays. There will be some overtime, because the shop is too busy to not have overtime, but Kevin tries to keep it to a minimum. I'm still working on getting in touch with an apartment complex and a lady who owns 10 rental properties in the Burley area, so I can figure out where we're going to live. Burley is roughly 3 hours away from Nampa, ID, where Mission Aviation Fellowship is headquartered. MAF, as you'll recall, is the missions organization Jen and I want to go through when we're finally ready for the mission field. Additionally, Burley is maybe a 17-hour drive from Douglas; we'll probably be renting a U-Haul truck to move our stuff from here to there.I think that just about covers it. Feel free to let me know if there are any questions I haven't answered.

Business Trip

2009-08-13T21:10:00.002-07:00

I've hinted at something on Facebook a couple times in the last week or so, and I've told a select few what's going on. I've decided to go ahead and go public with the news, which should save Jen and me the time and effort of having to tell the rest of our peeps on a one-on-one basis. So here's the news: I sent out a half-dozen resumes via e-mail last week. A guy in Idaho e-mailed me back and told me to call him about the job. I called him, and we kind of did an impromptu, informal phone interview. He owns an FBO at a little non-towered airport in southern Idaho and has a staff of 3 or 4 guys who do maintenance on General Aviation airplanes. During our conversation, he mentioned more than once that he'd like to meet me face-to-face, so I decided to use some of my flight account funds to make a weekend trip out to meet him. He told me in no uncertain terms, though, to check with him before I actually buy my ticket, just in case he gave the job away before I could make my way out there. I called him today to see if the position was still open. It is, and he agreed not to hire anyone until after next weekend, and he's looking forward to meeting me next Saturday. So I'm flying out to Idaho next weekend to meet my prospective future boss. I made all my reservations and whatnot today, so I'm set to go. Unfortunately, Jen won't be able to make the trip with me, as she has to work next Friday and Saturday. I'm taking the digital camera with me, though, and I plan to take as many pictures of as many things in Idaho as I possibly can, so she can at least take a photo tour of our potential new home. And now you know.

"I'm Spider-Man, no more."

2009-08-02T20:17:00.005-07:00

And now, curiously, I feel motivated to write a real, new post, now that I've just posted about how I'm intimidated by the thought of posting. (Yeah, I know. If you were ever able to see into my mind, you'd probably claw your eyes out. Or you'd mercy-kill me. Either way.)

I posted, almost two months ago, about how I had just become an intern at the airport in Benson. Here's the update: The week after I started being an intern in Benson, I stopped being an intern in Benson. To fully explain why, I'm going to have to provide just a little bit of backstory. At the time, my class schedule had degenerated to the point where I'd sit in class for about 2 hours on a Monday morning, then have the rest of the week off (my class is SUPPOSED TO be from 7:30 til 4, Monday through Thursday, no exceptions). That being the case, I had appalling amounts of spare time on my hands. I thought to myself, "I just earned my Airframe license. Wouldn't it be sweet to volunteer as a mechanic and score some hands-on experience in my down-time?" So I got in touch with a friend at New Tribes Mission Aviation, and I explained my situation to them. They took my offer of free labor to the rest of the guys in the shop, and they decided not to take me up on it. Apparently, there were some pretty big political issues happening within the mechanic-y side of NTMA, and they didn't want an "outsider" to see the drama, especially when said outsider would eventually be working for an organization that frequently partners with NTMA. So they shot me down. My friend, though, suggested that I volunteer to do grounds maintenance at NTMA for a while, and eventually I would probably be able to worm my way into the hangar to do some mechanic work. I met with the guy in charge of grounds maintenance. He told me he was semi-retired, so his schedule tended to be a little erratic, which meant we would probably have some difficulty connecting, since the highly erratic nature of my own schedule was why I was trying so hard to volunteer in the first place. The other big problem (in my mind, at least) was that I had attempted to volunteer as a mechanic, to do some free labor in an area I had just spent 9 months get certified in. They would get free help, and I would get some really great and relevent experience. What I was actually being handed was a chance to do some free labor in a field in which I had no training or skill, that wouldn't really benefit me in any way, besides providing that vague possibility that maybe, just maybe, someday I would be able to eventually work my way into the hangar to be able to do the kind of stuff I was volunteering to do in the first place. It seemed very... not what I was after.

Meanwhile, around this same time, I'd been in touch via e-mail with the owner of the FBO at the airport in Benson (FBO stands for Fixed Base Operator; FBOs are where you go to rent planes, buy fuel or pilot supplies, etc. They're the party store of aviation). I'd contacted him to get some information about the planes he has for rent. In the course of our correspondence, he mentioned he was looking for an intern to help out around the FBO. After NTMA shot me down and the grounds maintenance thing didn't look promising, the FBO guy offered me the internship. I thought to myself, "Finally, a chance to do something aviation-related, that I can put on a resume," and I jumped on it. After my first weekend on the job, I really got to thinking about the situation. My ideal had been spending my down-time from class out at NTMA, picking up some hands-on experience from some solid Christian missionary guys, so I could say on my resume that I actually had some experience in the field. The reality of things was that I was giving up two of the three days a week I got to spend home alone with my wife, spending just over 3 hours a day in my car, to work for free at a job that would really and truly have zero bearing on my resume. The internship was so far from what I'd originally desired, that I couldn't really find any reason to stick with it for even a second week. So I let it go. And now you know.

Why don't I blog more?

2009-08-02T20:07:00.002-07:00

That's a pretty fair question. After all, it's not like it takes any kind of actual effort to hammer out a blog post. So what's my deal? Well, I'm going to level with you. A curious thing happens to me, when it comes to blogs. I'll start a blog and have no problem at all pounding out posts fairly frequently (I am, for instance, a five-time veteran of Livejournal; I kid you not. Most of those have been deleted over the course of time, however, so don't bother searching for them). But after I've gotten my blog well-established, I start to get intimidated by the thought of writing new posts. I'll log in and go to type a post, and I just go totally blank. Or else I'll start typing, make it halfway through a post, decide what I've just written is stupid, and delete it all. Eventually, it gets so bad that I come to dread the sight of the big white box on my screen, just waiting for me to fill it up with my words. I really and truly don't know what the problem is. Performance anxiety maybe? Can't say for sure. But, whatever the reason may be, that's why I update my blog so infrequently. The only bright side, I guess, is that just about all the people who used to read my blog with any kind of regularity, have given up checking for updates, so even if I do write the most idiotic post in the world, the only people who will read it are me and whoever might accidentally stumble across this blog while Googling random words.

ANNOUNCEMENT!!!

2009-06-04T20:32:00.003-07:00

In a scant 8 months or so, I'm going to be a dad!!!! Hot diggety dog!!!

Intern!!!

2009-06-02T16:52:00.004-07:00

Hey! I'm officially an intern at the airport in Benson! I start on Friday, and will spend all day Friday and Saturday there each week, doing whatever needs to be done. It's an unpaid position, but I'll be given $30 in gas money each day I work, and I'll have something aviation-related to put on my resume. Not too shabby!

In class we're learning how to overhaul a reciprocating engine. Our test on overhaul is next Thursday, and our Phase 4 final exam is the following Thursday. And then, two days later, WE LEAVE FOR MICHIGAN!!!!!!! I'm very excited to see family and friends again, and to deliver a couple gifts here and there (mostly there). I'm also looking forward to chowing down on a #18 (whole, white, cold, everything on it) at Intermission Deli. Mmm...

Update on My Grandma

2009-05-19T07:18:00.003-07:00

It turns out one of the valves in my grandma's heart was letting blood back into her heart, and then the blood was clotting in her heart, which was throwing things out of whack. They did some sort of procedure on her to make the valve act normal again, but they won't know for 6 weeks whether or not it worked. In the meantime, she's on some meds that will keep any new clots from forming, and the doctor says that over time her body will re-absorb the clots that have already formed. Thanks to everyone who prayed (and who asked me how she was doing, because I wouldn't have remembered to post an update, otherwise).

Prayer Request

2009-05-14T13:39:00.002-07:00

My mom just called to let me know my grandma is in the hospital. Her heart has gone out of whack, and she's having some kind of test done in about an hour (5:30pm, MI time) to see if there are any clots in her heart causing the problem. I honestly don't know if my grandma is a Christian (if faith in the Catholic church was all it took, there would be no question). Please pray that God wouldn't end her time here unless and until she has saving faith in Jesus Christ.

Getting High in Douglas, AZ

2009-05-14T13:26:00.002-07:00

Cochise College, Douglas campus.

Here's a happy guy enjoying his David Clarks.

The LaBo house, from 6300ft MSL.

The golf course and fairgrounds in Douglas.

The big, tan building is Super Wal-Mart (the heart and soul of Douglas). The metropolis at the top of the picture is the north end of Agua Prieta, Sonora, Mexico (you're looking south in this picture). I'm not joking. The black line just below the start of the city is the border fence.

I PASSED!!!

2009-04-25T15:33:00.002-07:00

I'm now the proud owner of a mechanic certificate, complete with Airframe rating!!! Thanks to everyone who prayed for me over the course of these past couple weeks.

My Trial

2009-04-24T16:34:00.003-07:00

My Airframe practicals begin again tomorrow morning at 9am. Last weekend wasn't too bad at all, and I have a very good chance of completely finishing up and getting my mechanic certificate (well, the temporary one, anyhow) by close-of-business tomorrow. I don't know quite how to explain how I'm feeling right now, except maybe to say that I feel caught between two realities. In one reality, the practicals are small potatoes, hardly worth even thinking about because they're just another step in the path on which God has placed me. They're an unfortunate way to have to spend an entire Saturday, but little more than that. In the other reality, the practicals are the hinge point around which the rest of my future rotates. So much is riding on the outcome of those tests, that I'd be a fool NOT to be nervous. And so I sit in the gap between these two realities, relentlessly buffeted by currents from both, but unable to completely pull myself into either.

If anyone wanted to pray for me tomorrow, I wouldn't object.

Well, they're clearly not THAT fast. I drive a Buick, for Pete's sake!

2009-04-23T15:30:00.005-07:00

Some time ago, Jen and I were told about a snake that lives here in the desert, called a red racer. It's supposed to be a pretty shade of red/pink, and very quick (hence "red racer" instead of, say, "red creeper"). I saw one once, very briefly in our back yard. It was sunning itself on some rocks on the far corner of our back porch, and I startled it when I opened the back door. By the time I realized I was looking at a red racer, it was already long gone.

Today, as I was driving home after sitting in class for one measly hour, I got to see one for real. I was on Lee Station Road, driving through the pasture that the cows are currently in, so I was taking it nice and slow (the calves think they're dogs and insist on running into the road and chasing our car when we drive by). Suddenly, I noticed something long and reddish draped across the right half of the road. "Huh," I thought to myself. "What on earth is that? Wait a second. Could that be a-" By this point in my mental monologue, I had to look in the rearview mirror to confirm or deny my suspicion, since I'd just run over the mysterious length of pink something. The rearview revealed that the victim of my hit-and-run was now coiled up instead of all stretched out. Typically, old lengths of hose don't coil on impact, so I figured I'd probably just had my first real encounter with a red racer. Being the type who likes to poke dead things with a stick, I threw the car in reverse, got up close to the roseate bundle, and got out for a closer look. For just a moment, I was sure I'd killed this beautiful reptile. But then his black tongue flicked out for a sniff of me. Assuming I'd merely wounded the racer, I wandered off to the side of the road for a stick with which to examine him more closely. In the time it took me to bend over, pick up a stick, and turn around, the racer had recovered from his tire-massage and was beating a hasty retreat off the other side of the road. Naturally, I followed him til he started making his way under a little desert scrub plant. Then I reached down and stroked the end of his tail. Apparently he prefers being rubbed by car tires, because he picked up his pace considerably and got the rest of the way under the plant, post-haste. My only regret in the whole episode is that Jen couldn't be with me to see it for herself. At least my sexy new cell phone has a decent camera.

PS- I'm not sure why, but Blogger has decided to make it impossible to enlarge my posted photos by clicking on them. If you want a larger view of the snake and you happen to be my friend on Facebook, look for the photo there. It will actually let you enlarge it. Stupid Blogger.

The Deeply Unfortunate Return of "Angry Josh"

2009-04-20T15:15:00.004-07:00

Where on God's green earth have all the Christian guys in the 25-35 demographic gone? Thanks to Facebook, I recently re-befriended a guy who was instrumental in my coming to faith in Christ Jesus. I've had a couple really great online conversations with this guy, and I can't help but look at our reacquaintance as a gift from God. But, at the same time, it's given me a much better appreciation for what I DON'T have, and haven't had for a very long time. Apart from my conversations with Facebook guy, I haven't had a truly good talk with another Christ-following guy my age in so long a time, I can't remember the last one. Certainly, I've interacted with other Christian guys in the not-so-distant past, but a conversation that actually means something with a guy who shares the frame of reference of my demographic, has become a sort of unicorn in my life: I'm always trying to catch one, but I don't even really know where to start looking anymore. I have no Christian peers here. When I go to church, I'm surrounded by Christians, some younger than me, some older, but there is a noticeable hole in the age range, and I'm smack in the middle of it. As far as I know, I am the only Christian guy, of ANY age, in the entirety of the Cochise College aviation program, so no schoolyard chums are going to meet that need in my life. So where the heck else do you look for a "bosom friend" (huh, I guess I DID get something out of watching Anne of Green Gables with Jen)? I know I've bemoaned this particular disappointment in my life before, probably often, but it's an unmet need that continues to cause an ache right in the center of me.

Along those lines, I have another question for the Christ-ones who occasionally pop by: Do you ever get tired, spiritually? I was outside a little while ago, still working on ripping out that shrub. I spent a couple hours on it, made good progress, but just got to a point where my weary body was done. My motivation dribbled out of me like the lifeblood from a gutshot bandito, and I found myself just sitting in the dirt with no more will to labor. Then I realized that's how I'm feeling spiritually lately. In my heart, I think I've been muttering, "Okay, God. I'm done. I've got nothing left. I'm tired of being 'nice' to people who could really benefit from a good verbal evisceration or a solid backhand. I'm so weary of slogging my way through "the aviation maintenance program that common sense, competence, and teaching ability forgot." I'm sick of living in America's armpit, far enough away from roots that my family treats me like a casual acquaintance instead of a son and brother, and no one here knows me. I've worked hard enough for one lifetime; I've jumped through all the hoops you've put in front of me. Just give me a bloody rest already." Does anyone else ever get to feeling like this? I'd ask some of my face-to-face Christian friends, but...

Between this and the shower lizard, I'm starting to feel like the desert Dr. Doolittle

2009-04-10T10:29:00.009-07:00

Recently, our campus bookstore had an amazing sale on a lot of their merchandise. Most notably, they had a number of hardcover novels for less than $2 (and, in some cases, less than $1) each. I picked up two of them on a whim, thinking that even if I didn't like the books, I was only out a couple bucks for the experience (and I can always resell them for store credit at Hastings).

Last night, after we had gone to bed, I decided to try out one of the books. Maybe 30 pages into it, I decided I wasn't too crazy about the plot, so I would just skim through the rest of it and get the big picture. I tend to be a slow reader (I like to really take in the words I read), and I discovered last night that I'm also a slow skimmer. I made my "skim" decision at about 10:00. At 11:50, I was still making my way to the back cover. I generally don't stay up much past 10, but I knew I could afford to sleep in this morning, so I wasn't worried about it. Anyhow, at about 11:50, I heard a strange sound. I'd been hearing strange sounds for a while, but we sleep with a fan on, so I figured things were just moving in the breeze. The sound at 11:50 was different, though. For one, it was a continuous sound, not just a quick paper-crackle or rustle. For another, it wasn't a sound I'd heard before. Ever. It was almost like bacon frying, sort of an odd hissing-sizzle. Being the type of person who likes to know what's making the freaky noise in his bedroom in the middle of the night, I tried to pinpoint the sound and determined it was coming from a cardboard box about 3 feet away from my side of the bed. Well, it turns out that odd hissing-sizzle is what it sounds like when a four-inch centipede crawls around on cardboard.

I need to make absolutely clear, here and now, that I hate centipedes. Most of the other desert oddities we deal with don't bother me too badly, not even the rattlesnakes, but centipedes just freak me the crap out. So it was that as I tried to figure out the most expeditious way to dispatch the multi-appendaged wickedness, my muttered cursing woke Jen up. Jen's not such a big fan of centipedes, either, and I imagine waking up and being told there's a centipede in the room is probably an emotionally strenuous scenario, but she handled it like a pro. We both got up and watched the despised intruder for a few moments, then I grabbed an old sneaker and my hunting knife (surely, you remember my hunting knife from some of the photos Jen posted when we first moved to the ranch. It's very good for making bugs wish they'd stayed outside... and then dying.). The only other time I've had to deal with a centipede was when I found that five-inch charmer in our shower, and neither a shoe nor my knife was terribly effective against it (they're really the only bug-killing weapons I have, though; the .38 leaves holes in the floor). Fact of the matter is, centipedes dislike dying more than just about any other insect I've ever met. Tarantulas even go down easier than centipedes. MUCH easier. ("But tarantulas aren't insects; they're arachnids." Yes, thank you, Adam Veihl.)

Thus armed, I waited for the centipede to move to a spot where I'd have a clear shot at him with the sneaker. By now, he'd crawled off the box and, as we watched in growing alarm, he made his way under my dresser. We debated for a bit whether or not to move the dresser and go after him, but he resolved the matter by coming back out and heading across the floor. Bingo! I brought the sneaker down hard enough that my arm hurt afterwards, right on the front half of him. The impact was enough to kill that end of him, but not enough to even splatter his guts. For all intents and purposes, the centipede was still intact, though, mercifully, dead. Or so I thought. I'm no entymologist (again, that's Adam's field), but it seemed like after the front half of our intruder was dead, the back half took over. What I mean is, I poked at the front half of the centipede with my knife, and nothing happened. I poked at the back half, and it went crazy. Its back feelers started swinging around like the front feelers had done, and it was trying in vain to crawl away, backwards, as though the butt had become the head. Thankfully, the front end was completely stationary, so it wasn't going anywhere, but it was certainly animated. I put the tip of my knife through its butt, and then sliced down, trying to kill whatever was still driving it, but to no avail. It was still kicking, and it was angry. So what on earth do you do with a semi-undead centipede who has become impervious to stabbing and chopping? Glad you asked. Helpful soul that I am, I assisted my friend into his brand new Ziploc suit, and then I assisted him into the freezer.

Josh LaBo desert survival tip: When dealing with stubborn, hard-to-kill household pests, never underestimate the effectiveness of simple home cryogenics. It's the no-fuss, no-messy-gut-clean-up way to dispatch even the most diehard creature.

I checked on the centipede this morning, and I'm very happy to say the matter has been firmly dealt with. What's kind of cool is that, since he froze with his legs sort of sticking out, you can clearly see the spines on the end of each leg. I'm eager for Jen to get home so I can show them to her. Bugs are much less terrifying and much more interesting, when you can be sure they're dead. I took a few pictures of the bug in his gallon-size coffin, just before I put him in the freezer last night. I'm willing to bet they'll be showing up on Jen's blog before too long, so keep an eye out, if you really want to have a look at this most nasty and despicable of all God's creations. The part of this whole episode that impressed Jen the most last night, was that I was awake at 11:50 to find the horrible thing. As I said earlier, it's ENORMOUSLY rare for me to be awake much after 10, so we have to assume my book-skimming was really God watching out for us.

The Things You Find in the Shower

2009-04-08T19:06:00.006-07:00

A couple weekends ago, I spent some time outside doing yard work (I'm working on digging up an ugly old shrub; no mean feat when the ground hasn't seen a drop of rain in a few months).

When I came in for the day, I was covered in dirt, so I turned on the shower, got the water just right, got out of my clothes, and just as I was about to step in, I noticed something...

Apparently, lizards get to feeling grimy sometimes, too. After waiting for Jen to take several photos of our unexpected guest, I struggled back into my work clothes, caught the little freeloader, and turned him loose outside.

If he looks a little traumatized in this picture, you'll have to excuse him. He did, after all, see me in the buff.

State of the Union

2009-04-06T15:04:00.007-07:00

I guess it's right about time for me to post again. My wife was... kind (I guess) enough to point out to me that I have to post more, because I used to be funny. No pressure, right? On the other hand, by this point I'm sure no one even bothers to check this blog for updates anymore, so no one will notice if I fail at being funny in this particular post. Because, I have to admit, I can't do funny on demand. Come to think of it, I'm not particularly good at doing ANYTHING on demand. How disappointing for Jenny. :(

I miss flying. (See? That wasn't funny AT ALL.) I know I took that ride in the Super Cub out at NTMA a week or two ago, but other than that I haven't flown since January 15. That's a LONG time to go without doing the only thing that makes me even remotely cool (and even then, I'm working from a HUGE deficit). And I'm not sure when I'll get another chance to get back up in the air. I'm supposed to be doing some review work on my instrument rating, but with practicals still looming in the unknown distance, I feel like I really need to focus my mental energies on that. Plus, it's been extremely windy here in southeast AZ for the last couple months (ah, spring in Douglas), which isn't conducive to flying Spam cans (as one of my classmates calls the type of planes I usually fly). I will say, though, that I'm giving serious consideration to the idea of pulling some money out of my flight account in June, and renting a plane while we're in Michigan. The plane that I used to train in in Saginaw, is the same model (and even the same year, I think) as the smaller planes I fly out here at Cochise. I've got over 100 hours logged in that type of plane, so it shouldn't take any effort at all to get checked out in the one in Saginaw, if I decide to go that route. (Hint: this is the time to start begging for plane rides for you and your kids [if you have kids] if anyone is actually reading this post which, again, seems terribly unlikely). It would be bloody fantastic to FINALLY take my wife for a plane ride (no, she STILL hasn't been up with me). We'll have to think and pray about this one some more.

I've also had something else floating around in my mind lately. I'm not sure what to make of it yet, though.

On the AMT front, I'm STILL waiting to do my practicals. The good news is that there are only 3 of us left who haven't done them, and the examiner did two students at the same time this past weekend, so my turn is definitely coming. I'm going to guess that, if I pass, I will be a certificated (not "certified"; the FAA likes "certificated". They also say "practicable" instead of "practical", as in, "The pilot in command will land as soon as practicable." Weird, I know. Oop, I'm off on a rabbit trail!) mechanic with Airframe rating, by the end of April. In the meantime, we've started Powerplant. In fact, today marks the start of week 2 of Powerplant. I'm enjoying it quite a bit so far, but there's so little new information to occupy us for the next 3 months, that our days are a little... short. We're supposed to be in class 7:30 til 3:00 Monday through Thursday, but even with the thirty-minute morning break and the (roughly) half-hour we waste chatting at the start of class each day, we're still out for the day by 11:00. That's nice, because it lets me eat lunch with Jen. But it also sucks, because then I either sit around campus until 5:00, or I go home and have to come back at five to pick Jen up from work. Sometimes being a one-car family is just a little bit lame. There are worse things, though, I suppose. At least I've got my Pokerman (no, you're not supposed to get this joke; it's for my wife's enjoyment only. And no, it's not dirty. Shame on you for even thinking that!).

So that's what's new with me. I think I'll go study some more now. Nah, who am I kidding? I've only got about 40 minutes until I have to go get Jen. That's hardly enough time to study.

Savage Tribesmen

2009-03-24T17:30:00.002-07:00

Yesterday I got the chance to go hang out at New Tribes Mission Aviation for the day. I got a really great tour of the facilities from Doug (the other guy in the picture), a New Tribes guy who goes to our church. Doug was patient enough to answer all of my many questions about the aircraft and aircraft parts that we saw on our tour. Doug also surprised me with a flight in a Piper Super Cub, which was a really great experience. It was my first time in a tailwheel airplane, my first time in a fabric-covered plane, my first time taking off from a gravel strip, my first time flying with a stick instead of a control yoke, and my first time using an ANR headset (I'm glad I didn't know about the flight before I left the house, because I would've brought my own headset and missed a really great experience using ANR). I had a really, really great time, and I'm enormously grateful for the opportunity.

The picture is of Doug and me in front of the Super Cub, right after our flight. That's not any sort of camera trick or optical illusion, either; the cockpit really is as narrow as it seems. I felt like I was wearing it, instead of riding in it. But it was a fantastic time, nonetheless!

The Wheels...

2009-02-28T20:36:00.003-07:00

Monday morning is my final Airframe pre-test. It's also the Phase 3 final exam, even though Phase 3 doesn't actually end until late in March. It has to be that way so we can take the exams we need to take, when we need to take them. Practicals begin on March 16. They will involve an oral exam and a hands-on exam for General (Phase 1), and an oral and a hands-on for Airframe (Phases 2&3). Passing means I will have my AMT certificate and my Airframe rating. Phases 4 and 5 will be for Powerplant, and I'll take those practicals in September. And that will be the end of our time in Douglas, AZ. Just over 3 years here... that have seemed like so much longer. And then it's on to somewhere else. Just like that. Maybe some other part of Arizona, maybe some other part of America. Sometimes I'm blessed with an iron-clad certainty that all of this has been according to God's plan for us. Sometimes, I get so caught up in whatever step I'm on, that I completely lose sight of the path. And sometimes I look behind me and can't see where the path started; I look ahead of me and can't see where the path is leading. Those are the times when I feel so infinitesimally tiny that it snatches my breath away from me. Guess which one of those three tonight is.

2009-02-21T21:51:00.002-07:00

There's some screwy stuff happening on the Internet tonight. Very strange, indeed.

Island

2009-01-31T18:20:00.003-07:00

The majority of the time, I'm totally cool with not really having any friends besides my best friend, Jenny. But, I have to admit, there are times when it makes me really sad (and lonely) to think that, with VERY few exceptions, the only texts/phone calls/e-mails I get are from Jen. I'm not fishing for sympathy or whatever; I'm just having one of those moments and thought I'd put it in writing. So there you go.

It's Over!!!!!!!!!!

2009-01-20T07:24:00.003-07:00

As every one already knows, I passed my commercial check ride on Thursday. The really cool part, though, is that during my debriefing my examiner told me, "Overall, you handle the plane well and you have good reactions." I had to ask him specifically for areas in which I could improve, before he said anything less than positive. You know that old saying about getting blood from a turnip? That's usually what it's like trying to get positive feedback from this guy.

One Last Hurdle

2009-01-14T16:47:00.003-07:00

So here I am. The oral is over. It's done. There's no more studying and no more feeling guilty for every moment I spend not studying. Now I've just got one last hurdle, one last hoop to jump through, and a journey I started in January of 2005 will be at its end. All I have to do is go fly one last flight with every ounce of skill I've feverishly honed in the last couple weeks. The other day Jen texted me a really fitting quote from her work calendar: "No amount of worry brings security. Let go and let God and just enjoy the ride." So tomorrow that will be my game plan. One last flight. One more time. You can't have any idea what this feels like unless you've been here. But it's absolutely awesome.

2009-01-14T07:14:00.003-07:00

It's over!!! After a very shaky start, I managed to pull off a decent oral exam. Since it was dark when we finished, I couldn't do the flight portion of the exam last night (we were expecting this, though), so I'll be finishing up on Thursday. I've got my letter of discontinuance, saying I successfully completed the oral, so I just have to knock out a decent flight on Thursday after class, and I'm a commercial pilot! Thank you to everyone who prayed and/or sent along encouraging words. I really appreciate all the support.

2009-01-13T15:40:00.002-07:00

3:40. Examiner out smoking. Waiting for exam to start. Panicking. IBS going into overdrive. Longing to just fall into bed and actually get some sleep. Wanted to share my experience with you all.

2009-01-13T11:43:00.002-07:00

It's funny how, when stuff is going on in your life, you can get so focused on yourself that you become your entire universe. And then you find out what's going on in someone else's life, and suddenly your issues really don't seem that major. At least that's how it works in my life.

Holy Smokes!!!

2009-01-08T15:18:00.002-07:00

My commercial certificate check ride is Tuesday/Wednesday of next week. I've flown 9 times since Monday morning in preparation. That's a lot of flying. I was supposed to fly again right now, but I'm so tired and Belinda assured me I'm ready for the test. On Monday, I will spend my lunch break doing a mock oral exam with Belinda, and when class is done for the day I'll go out and fly a mock check ride, just to make absolutely certain I'm ready. I really need to get this check ride behind me so I can start studying for my AMT oral and practical exams in March.

Romper Room

2008-12-15T14:37:00.003-07:00

This post has absolutely nothing to do with Romper Room. What it DOES have to do with is my commercial check ride. It's been postponed til early next semester. And despite what I said in my last post, that's actually a good thing. I had quite a bit on my plate already with the AMT program, and I was kind of starting to fray around the edges. Belinda, my flight instructor (and, I'm beginning to suspect, also my fairy godmother), worked out a plan that lets me put off the check ride until January 12 and 13 (it's spread over 2 days because I can't do class for 8 hours and then still squeeze in a whole check ride in one day) without having to take an F for Commercial III. So I've got a little break from feverish studying and panicking over not getting to fly because of weather (it's been crazy windy here lately). However, I'll probably have my books in my luggage when we fly back to Michigan so I can get some studying done over break. At least I can focus all my attention this week on passing my Phase 2 final exam on Thursday.

My Riveting Post

2008-11-03T16:34:00.004-07:00

Man, I'm really bad at remembering to post. Here's what's new. I'm working on sheet metal in AMT right now. Five weeks worth of sheet metal. Five weeks worth of shearing and bending and drilling and riveting sheet metal. We'll finally be done with it on the 11th of this month. So far, I've built a spark plug tray and a timing light box, I've riveted countless sheets of aluminum together (using both flush and universal head rivets), I've sandpapered a gouge out of a sheet of plexiglass (I know that's not really "sheet metal" but it was still part of the project packet), I've stretched and shrunken angle doublers, and I've constructed a hole finder. I've enjoyed it for the most part (especially riveting), but it's had its frustrating moments and I'm ready to move on to something else.

My twenty-eighth birthday is this Friday. The church we go to here has a special time during announcements every Sunday, where they ask who has a birthday coming in the next week, and then they make those people stand up and the whole church sings Happy Birthday to them. Well, yesterday was my day to be sung to. When it was over and I sat back down, Jenny heard the little girl behind us say, "Mommy, why did we sing Happy Birthday to that big man?" Now that's funny stuff. :)

God willing, I'll start flying again tomorrow after class. I took a break that's lasted about a month, because I had some issues with my new instructor, but now I get to fly with Belinda again and (again, God willing) finally finish my commercial certificate. I'm going to feel like a big, fat failure if we go back to Michigan for Christmas, and I still don't have my commercial. That's a heads-up to anyone who might have to put up with me during Christmas. You've been warned!

Oh Brudder...

2008-10-01T16:03:00.002-07:00

By now everyone already knows I aced my final, thanks to my adorable wife. So we don't need to talk about that.

Let's talk about Phase 2, instead. Now that's we're past the ridiculously long lecture sessions of Phase 1, it's time to get down to doing some interesting stuff. Today, for instance, my lab partner and I checked the tension in the control cables of a Cessna 150G, with a tensiometer. Then we checked the primary control surface movements with a prop protractor. And then, to top it all off, we removed the rudder from the Cessna, cleaned and greased the bushings, then reattached the rudder. Tomorrow, I'll be assembling a control cable (copper sleeve and steel thimble on one end, swaged ball on the other) then attaching it to a turnbuckle and safety wiring it. I know all of this probably doesn't make much sense to many of you. Frankly, I'm too tired to try and explain it all right now. I mostly just wanted to establish that my tools are finally proving to be a good investment.

Cram Session

2008-09-24T16:50:00.003-07:00

My final exam for Phase 1 is tomorrow morning. It's all multiple-choice questions, and it's rumored to be 100 questions long. The questions will be selected from the FAA's bank of Phase One Knowledge Test questions, so if I can pass the final, I should very well be able to pass the FAA's test. Unfortunately, due to regulations, I don't get to take that written test until the end of Phase 3... in March '09. But, like I said, the Phase 1 final exam is tomorrow morning, so feel free to pray for me!

The Last Laugh

2008-09-23T15:35:00.007-07:00

On my post about building my hammer, Chris K asked why the instructors didn't bother to take us through the tools before giving us what, at the time and under the circumstances, was a fairly monumental task. I had a pretty good post all typed out in answer to this question. In fact, I'm currently using the "Edit" feature, so it's possible some of you will read that post before I get this one up in its place. The problem with that post was that it was catty and far from what I would consider Christlike. It's kind of been a long time since I've felt particularly Christlike, and I'm very tired of being disappointed in me. So here's my new answer to Chris's question:

The "normal" Phase 1 instructor was fired a semester or two ago. Since my class is the first starting class they've had in a couple semesters, this is the first time the instructors have had to address the fact that they had no one to teach the phase. So the three remaining instructors divided up the phase, and each of the three agreed to teach various subjects. However, only one of the 3 has ever taught any part of Phase 1 before, and that was 15 years ago. So they're all a little slow in getting up to speed with their new teaching responsibilities. I remain optimistic that when we start Phase 2 next Monday, things will run smoother, since Phase 2 is familiar terrain for these guys. I'm hopeful that the worst is behind us.

Going Green

2008-09-18T16:52:00.004-07:00

I don't think I mentioned it previously, but my headset broke recently. Yup, this close to being done with my pilot training, and my headset decided to give up the ghost. I had Larry, my electronics-savvy friend in the AMT program, try to repair it for me, but he was unable to find the necessary components (apparently, Flightcom uses much-smaller-than-standard components in their products). Since sending the headset to a repair place would have cost me $55 minimum and I only paid $65 for them in the first place, that didn't seem like a great option either. So I wound up withdrawing some cash money from my flight account and buying myself a brand new David Clark headset. I imagine most of you aren't terribly familiar with the name "David Clark" but it's an enormously popular brand of headset, and they're known for their unique green color. In fact, if you ever watch a TV show or movie where people are in a small plane or helicopter, pay attention to their headsets. Chances are the ear cups are a sea green color. If so, they're David Clarks. I spent the extra $15 to get them delivered UPS 2-day air, so they should be delivered to my door tomorrow at some point. I'm looking forward to trying them out on Monday.

On Getting Hammered

2008-09-16T16:27:00.004-07:00

As Jen mentioned on her blog, I finished my hammer yesterday, after an extremely frustrating week of working on it. The FAA has certain activities that we, as AMT students, MUST do. The school decided to find a way for us to do those activities in such a way that when we're done with them, we have something useful to show for it. The solution: make the students build a hammer. The project seems cool, and I was actually pretty excited to get to it. Here's the problem with the hammer project, though. Some of the students in my class (including me) have never really handled tools in any meaningful way. We all, I think, assumed that there would be some instructions or exercises to get us up to speed on using tools before we were given the task of building a hammer. You know, something to ease us into the process, instead of just dropping us cold into a situation where competency with tools was a necessity. That, unfortunately, wasn't the case. So when they handed us a blueprint and some materials and said, "Here, build a hammer," some of us were dreadfully unprepared. What made it more frustrating was that they then told us, "Oh, and we're going to charge you 4 points off your project grade everytime you screw up and have to start over on any part of the hammer." So we were struggling along, using some tools (including a drill press) for the first time, and trying not to botch anything because we didn't want to get docked. Suffice it to say, I screwed up the head of my hammer and had to "buy" a new hunk of steel and start over. But, in the end, the hammer got finished, and I learned how to use some tools in the process. As Jenny also mentioned, my final exam for Phase 1 is next Thursday, which means the following Monday we're on to Phase 2. I'm optimistic that the quality of my AMT education will improve at that point, as the instructors will be back on familiar ground (the guy who used to teach Phase 1 got fired last semester, so the rest of the instructors had to step in and fill the void despite having never taught the material before). One more year...

Flyboy's Long Farewell, or Make Way for Greasemonkey

2008-09-04T16:30:00.004-07:00

Let's talk about my flight training. Just where the heck am I with all that, anyway? The short answer is, pretty darn close to the end. As I mentioned previously, I have a new instructor, Mike, who is just about the best thing that's ever happened to me, as far as flight training's concerned. He's got me seeing things differently, which means I'm performing better than I ever have before. When he first started teaching me, he told me I was a little behind the curve on some things, in part because of the quality (or lack thereof) of my prior instruction. When we finished my flight period today, he told me I'm pretty much on top of things now. That's quite a change for one month of sporadic flight periods. So I've got to finish honing a few maneuvers and get some oral exam stuff locked into my brain, and I"ll be ready for my commercial check ride. Realistically, I'll most probably be a commercial pilot before the end of September.

Also, I just had a conversation this afternoon with Belinda (former instructor/assistant chief flight instructor), and she's agreed to do a little bit of instrument review with me when I've finished my commercial and she's finished teaching Private Ground Training (probably mid-October). In order for my instrument rating to remain valid, I have to do at least 6 instrument approaches along with holding procedures and VOR tracking within the previous 6 months. Failing that, I get an additional 6-month grace period to meet those requirements, otherwise my instrument raiting is useless to me until I complete an instrument proficiency check. All that said, I haven't done ANY instrument work since my instrument check ride back in March, so I'm due. In fact, by the time I get to doing my review with Belinda, I'll be somewhere in the first month of that grace period. I'm sure Mike would gladly do the instrument stuff with me, but I'm also sure he's got his own way of doing things. With Belinda, I already know what the expectations are and what she's going to be looking for. Seems easier that way.

Now let's talk about AMT (my mechanic program). AMT is a 15-month program, broken into five three-month phases. Phase 1 is General; it's sort of an overview of everything we're going to cover in detail in the other four phases. Phases 2 and 3 are what get me my Airframe rating, and phases 4 and 5 are for my Powerplant rating. Phase 1 ends with a final exam on September 25. As it currently stands, I'm fairly sure I'm at the top of my class (although my whole class is only 9 people) and I'm really enjoying the program. The Powerplant instructor told me one day after class that Phase 1 is, at least in his opinion, the hardest phase, so if I'm doing okay with this one, I shouldn't have any real trouble finishing the whole show. That's great news! And since this is September 2008, we've (or at least, I've) started to mentally count down the time we're in Douglas, rather than counting up. What I mean is, I used to say, "Man, we've been here 2 years and one month already. How much longer will it be?" Now I'm saying, "We only have twelve more months before it's time to move to wherever God sends us next." It's the greatest feeling in the world, being able to finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

My First Rattlesnake Kill

2008-08-25T15:32:00.003-07:00

Jen and I decided to go to Sierra Vista for the day on Saturday and spend a little time reconnecting. With my school stuff and Jen working long hours, we haven't had much time to just be together. So we did that Saturday, and it was a really good time. After we got bored in SV, we came home and ate some pizza and watched a movie. Then, at around 6PM, we decided to go out and spray the weeds in our yard, so I strapped the big old tank on my back, pumped it up, and got to spraying (I also stuck our pistol in my pocket, which is sort of standard procedure anytime we do anything outside on the ranch). Meanwhile, Jen was wandering around the yard. She was strolling along our driveway, when all of a sudden, she let out a pretty good scream and started backing away from something. When Jen gets... let's say "alarmed," she sometimes becomes a little hard to understand. However, as I came around the bend in the driveway, I was able to gather that she had found a snake. I wanted to make sure that it was a rattlesnake before I pulled the gun and shot it, though, because we also have bull snakes on the property, which look like rattlers without the rattles, and they eat rats and things, which is good. Sure enough, this one was a rattlesnake, and it was laying across our driveway and looking for all the world like it had been run over. I drew the pistol and kicked some dust at it, figuring that if it was actually alive it would react in some way. It didn't react at all; it just kept laying there. I voiced my suspicion that it was dead, hoping Jen would calm down. Instead, she shouted at me, "I don't care! Just shoot it anyway!" Being the good husband that I am, I obliged her, and it's a good thing I did because as soon as the first round of rat-shot hit it, it started heading for the weeds. (I want to point out how tricky it is to get off a good shot with a pistol when you have a big tank of chemicals on your back and you're trying to keep the sprayer and its hose out of the line of fire.) I shot the snake again, a little more carefully this time, and he stopped his retreat. In fact, he stopped doing everything. I was content in the idea I had successfully killed him, but Jenny... let's say "requested" that I shoot him again, so I again obliged her and hit him one more time. The third shot flipped him clean onto his back, so there was no more doubt; the snake was dead. Tired of trying to function with a tank on my back, I went back to spraying the weeds growing on our walkways. When I finished that chore, I took off the tank and went back to the snake. My trusty tape measure told me he was 33 inches long, before I cut off his rattle for a keepsake (the rattle had 6 buttons on it; one less than the last one that was killed in our yard). With the help of a stick, I moved my victim to a flower pot on the edge of our driveway, where Chuck (our landlord) later picked him up and, I'm assuming, disposed of him. Chuck later told me that my kill was the third in three days; he had killed one on Thursday and one on Friday. I have a picture of my snake dangling at the end of a stick, but the limits of the computers in the campus lab won't let me put it on here. Maybe Jen will put up a pic of it (hint, hint).

Here's the odd little postscript to this tale: Today when I got back into my classroom after lunch, there were 4 or 5 people in a little huddle in one corner of the room, and one student was pounding on the floor with a signpost they keep in the room. When I got to the corner to see what was up, the student had just finished braining a baby rattlesnake that had somehow found its way into our classroom. It was 9 or 10 inches long, and only had one little button for a rattle. When the other students first found it, they thought it was dead... until it started furiously striking the sole of one student's shoe. Weird.

Samsonite

2008-08-19T17:38:00.002-07:00

Today I got the highest score in the class on my Basic Electricity test. I missed one question out of 33. Not passing the test was never really the issue for me, though. What had me really bothered yesterday is that I feel like I'm just not grasping electricity (the structure of FAA and FAA-related testing is such that you can score perfectly on a test without having the slightest clue what any of the subject matter actually means). I still feel like electricity's somewhere beyond my mental reach, but I'm okay with the idea that I'll pick up those details I actually NEED to know for AMT, when it's time for me to know them. As an instructor told us all today, "We're not training you to be electrical engineers."

I'm admitting, here and now, for those who didn't already know this, that I'm pretty hard on myself (and I apparently LOVE to use commas). When I'm in a mood like I was yesterday, it doesn't matter that I'm at the head of my class. It doesn't matter that I'm in the final bit of my commercial pilot certificate. Like I just mentioned, part of what was getting to me yesterday was that I felt I should be a master electrician after one week of class on the subject. Who cares whether I'm doing well in the program? That's irrelevant (this is all what I was thinking yesterday, you see). The relevant thing is that I'm too stupid to get electricity, regardless of how long I spent studying it.

The other thing that was getting to me is that I don't feel like I'm doing well enough at piloting. My private certificate was a con job, surely; I didn't deserve it. My instrument rating was a fluke, certainly; there's no way I should have such a thing in my possession. The things I've done well, and do well, don't matter; they're beside the point. The only things I can see clearly on a day like yesterday, are my failures and those things I'm still not an expert at. I've worried, pretty much from my first flight lesson, that I'm not good enough or smart enough or talented enough or perceptive enough to be a good pilot. That thought has haunted me through every flight period and solo flight and cross-country and test and accomplishment. Well, I had a short conversation with my instructor (the new one, who's been making his living evaluating pilots) in which he told me, point-blank, that I have the talent and ability to be a great pilot. He also told me that he's noticed I REALLY lack self-confidence, which is both very accurate and very perceptive on his part. We talked a bit about that, and he assured me he could help me through the head games I'm playing with myself, because those are the only things holding me back from being a very good pilot.

So, to sum up this semi-rambling mess, I'm feeling much better about things today, than I did yesterday.

2008-08-18T17:00:00.005-07:00

worthless
-adjective
without worth; of no use, importance, or value; good-for-nothing; Josh LaBo 27.75 years into his lifespan.

2008-07-31T15:21:00.002-07:00

Yesterday's flight period went far better than I had expected it to. Mike has a few quirks in the plane that I'm not crazy about, but I'm sure it'll all work out in the end. I do like his teaching style, in general, and I feel pretty good about finishing my commercial certificate with him.

What was I thinking?

2008-07-30T15:00:00.002-07:00

I'm sitting in the briefing room waiting for my new instructor to get back from a flight, so we can go up together for the first time. When I requested that Belinda assign me a new instructor, it seemed like such a great idea. I'd get my time in, in a timely fashion, and I'd be able to fly my check ride with Belinda. Now, though, I'm trying not to panic. For those who don't know, Mike (the new instructor) will be my 9th flight instructor since I started my training back in Michigan in 2005. I've had some absolutely miserable experiences with some truly God-awful flight instructors, and those bad experiences have left me pretty gun-shy when it comes to flying with someone new. And now, not only am I about to go up with a new instructor, I'm about to do it at 3:15 in the afternoon, when turbulence is near its strongest and I've already had a fully day of mechanic class. This is suddenly seeming like the dumbest thing I could ever do.

It's Been A While...

2008-07-24T16:12:00.003-07:00

I guess I haven't posted much lately (if you think I'm bad on here, you should see my paper journal. Oy!) so I should probably write something, on the slim off-chance someone actually checks my blog for updates.

I started the AMT (read: aircraft mechanic) program at school on July 7, which means that today I finished week 3 (the program runs 15 months total). Because our program is approved by the FAA, we MUST be tested on 129 subject areas, and pass every one of them. One hundred twenty-nine subjects into 15 months means that in the last 3 weeks, we've had 4 tests (I think; everything is sort of a blur right now) which I've passed without any real trouble. But this is the "General Phase" so we're not getting very in-depth on anything yet. Monday will be our first time working in the lab (read: hangar). We'll be making fluid lines (read: little pipes) and pressure-testing them. I'm very excited for a chance to finally use the $700 worth of tools that have been riding in my trunk since the 7th.

It's sort of strange to think that in 15 months, Jen and I will be able to leave Douglas. We've only been here 2 years, but sometimes it seems like we've always lived here. I've been asked if I hope to move back to Michigan when we're done here. Somewhere along the way, Michigan stopped being "home" for me (though I still love the song "Michigan Christmas"). I have no desire to move closer to my family, because it seems like we all get along best when there are thousands of miles between us. And I don't feel as though I left many friends behind when we moved here (just as I don't feel like I'll be leaving any friends here when I go), so that's not a motivation. Come right to it, I can't think of anywhere that DOES feel like home to me which, I suppose, will help me get acclimated when we get wherever we're going after this, but I also can't help thinking it's just a little bit sad.

I'll most likely find out on Monday who my flight instructor will be for the rest of my commercial certificate training. I had a talk with Belinda a day or two ago (again, everything's a bit of a blur), and requested a new instructor. It's not that I'm unhappy with the instruction Belinda's been giving me. It's just that our schedules aren't really going to mesh until sometime in October, and I don't want to wait that long to finish my training. I need an instructor who can fly a 3:15 flight period with me when I get out of AMT, and there are 2 new instructors coming in who will be able to do that. Also, having a different instructor means I'll be able to fly my check ride with Belinda when the time comes, which is a definite plus. I've met both of the new instructors, and they both seem nice (and they both have years of flying experience; also a plus), so I don't really care too much which one I get assigned to. It's going to make for a LONG day, sitting in class for 7-8 hours, then getting in a plane and flying for another hour, but there's not really any other way around it; I need to finish my commercial certificate, and it's got to be this semester. God never gives us more than we can handle, right? Right?!

Some long weekends just aren't worth it...

2008-06-30T07:23:00.007-07:00

Jenny, in her most recent post, mentioned that Chuck and Patty came over (I think Saturday) to see what the workers had done at our house. Then she said it was another story for another time. That time is now, friends! I've decided to tell you about the workers and their.... umm... work.

By now, everyone should already know that Jen and I moved into a two-bedroom house earlier in June. The house is sort of... I'll say "dividable" in that you can close a couple sliding doors and essentially turn the house into a main group of rooms and a guest set of rooms. That being the original intent of the layout, each side even had its own climate control. The only problem is that the A/C on the "master" side didn't work worth a hill of beans, so we wound up spending a good deal of our home time in the guest side, where it was cool (usually). Well, Chuck and Patty decided to do some work on the heating/cooling situation. The plan was to put in a swamp (evaporative) cooler (for inexpensive cooling in the dry time), as well as a new heat pump (for heating the house in winter, but it's also an air conditioner for cooling the house during the monsoons, when a swamp cooler won't work). And the new package would heat and cool the entire house, rather than have two independent units working. Sounds great, right?

So the workers came on Monday and started working. (I feel a note should be made at this point that the workers are Mexican just like most of Douglas and, thus, have the very typical "manana" mindset, which means there really is no sense of urgency when it comes to working. A job gets finished whenever it gets finished, and there's not much you can do to hurry things along. This mindset is the reason Jenny and I no longer eat at Denny's in Douglas; even the waitresses live by it.) They made some decent progress, and at the end of the day, they told us they'd probably be finished sometime on Tuesday. Tuesday came, and they didn't get as much done as they wanted. Wednesday, I stayed home from work so Chuck or Patty wouldn't have to spend the day sitting in our house with the guys. They showed up around 7:30, worked for an hour, then said, "We have to go to Sierra Vista for a part. We'll be back in the afternoon." So I sat and waited. And waited. And waited. And they never came back. Well, they finally came back Thursday and got some stuff done (I'm guessing; I wasn't there this time), but they didn't finish the job they told us would be done by close-of-business Tuesday. This whole time, they were just leaving their trash all over our yard and house, because apparently cleaning up after yourself isn't something they teach you in Heating & Cooling School. I can't recall if it was Tuesday or Thursday when they installed the control unit for the swamp cooler, but they cut a hole in the wall right above an old standing clock, without moving the clock first, so the little German-looking figurines on the clock were pulverized by hunks of sheetrock. This, unfortunately, wouldn't be the last damage they did.

On Friday they came back and worked most of the day, which meant we weren't able to change our drivers license addresses or do our grocery shopping. At some point in the afternoon, we heard a tremendous crash like something got broken. We went to investigate and everyone played it all cool like nothing had happened. After they left for the day, I went into the guest bathroom and noticed they'd knocked a chunk out of our tile countertop. That, apparently, was the source of the crash, but they made a point of NOT telling us they'd damaged our bathroom. I think it was also on this day that they installed the control unit for the heat pump. But the first hole they cut in the wall wasn't in the right place, so they cut another one, which left a nice, square hole in our living room wall. Then the guy wired it wrong, so the A/C control turned on the heat instead of the cool.

On Saturday, they came back to finish up. Jenny couldn't take anymore so she went across the road to visit with our neighbor. I was sitting in the kitchen playing a computer game, and the guy came back in to re-wire the heat pump controls. He fiddled with it for a while, then tried to call someone, then turned and said to me, "You don't have the internet here, do you?" I told him I didn't, so he wandered off to try to figure out how to fix his mistake. Meanwhile, the other two guys, who had come in to hang out while wiring guy tried to work, decided to watch me play my video game. And ask me questions about my video game, and whether I'd ever played Halo 3 (which, as far as I know, they don't even make for PC). Then wiring guy came back in and fixed his mistake. Then he fixed the hole in the wall, which left a big white circle on our wall where there used to be pretty yellow paint. Some time after that, I heard another tremendous crash. Jenny was still across the road visiting, so I went to investigate, determined to get a straight answer this time. It turns out one of the guys broke through the ceiling in the garage, leaving a hole in the ceiling. But that's not all. The guy broke through right above a lighting fixture, the kind they have in businesses, with the long flourescent "bulbs" in them. So he bent one side of the fixture, at the same time knocking out the "bulb" and shattering it all over the floor. That was the last straw for me. I called Jenny and told her what happened. Then I called Patty and told her what happened. Jenny came home, and Patty came over to check things out. Then she laid down the law for the workers. This is where it gets really amazing. Patty told them she wanted the white circle on the wall painted. They asked if she had a can of the paint they could use (I'm not kidding). Then they suggested hanging a picture over the white area (again, I'm dead serious). Finally, they agreed to go buy a can of paint. Patty asked them repeatedly who broke the countertop, and no one out of the four workers would give her a straight answer. So then she asked where the missing chunk was, and again no one would answer her. So she told them she wanted it fixed, and that the tile is 35 years old, so it might be hard to find. They went into the bathroom and ripped up a piece of the tile to take to Mexico to try and match it. BUT THEY TOOK THE TILE NEXT TO THE DAMAGED ONE, INSTEAD OF JUST TAKING THE DAMAGED ONE. So now there's one broken tile and one missing tile. Then she asked why they'd put up the old registers instead of putting up new ones, since they included new registers in their quote, and since they'd told her at the start of the job that new registers would work much better than the old ones. They hemmed and hawed and Patty told them to put in new ones. Then she asked about the hole in the ceiling, and they assured her they'd fix it themselves (God help us all). And then something interesting happened: they got out a shop vac and started sweeping up the messes they'd made on the carpet. This is only interesting because it was the first time all week they'd done it, and I'm not sure it would have happened at all if Patty hadn't been there laying down the law.

At that point, the workers left to go buy registers and paint. They came back a while later and replaced all the registers with new ones (which, I must say, work much better than the old ones). Then they opened up the new can of paint and tested it on the wall. Against all reason and common sense, they tested it on an undamaged part of the wall instead of on the mess they'd made, and it was the wrong color. So now there's a little whitish spot of freshly-painted wall about 2 feet below the big white circle on the living room wall. At least they had the sense to stop at that point and not paint the white circle whitish instead of the yellow it was supposed to be. Patty's plan was to just have Carla (the aforementioned neighbor Jenny was visiting with) doctor up whatever color paint they came back with, and paint the wall herself (Carla is amazing in that way. Bob Vila wishes he could be Carla). But they took the can of paint when they left, without anyone noticing, so now we're back to no paint. Their plan was to come back today and patch the ceiling and finish cleaning up their mess. They may be there now; I don't know. I'm just hoping they're gone for good when we get home tonight.

On Spiritual Solitude

2008-06-24T08:02:00.003-07:00

Since I'm apparently using my blog to vent lately, and because I'm presently thinking about Kara's "church family" comment on her blog, and Kelly's "thought you found a church" comment on my blog, I guess I'm going to talk a bit about our present situation. Jen and I have been living in Douglas for very nearly two years now (our two-year anniversary is July 13). In that time I have established one relationship that I would call a good Christian friendship. Just the one. Unfortunately, he's in the Marine reserves, and he got deployed to Djibouti last winter. So he's gone. You might be saying to yourself, "Wow. One Christian friendship in two years? What's Josh doing wrong?" God knows I've asked myself that question more times than is probably healthy. But consider our circumstances out here. We visited the Baptist churches in Douglas and didn't find a single regular attender of any of them that was our age. Plus, the preaching was WEAK. So we moved on to Sierra Vista. We reasoned that churches in a bigger city would be bound to have people our age. And we were right; we found some people our age at First Baptist in Sierra Vista. We even started attending the age-appropriate Sunday school class in order to get to know those long-sought-for people. And they more or less ignored us. One Sunday I even made an emotional little speech about how Christians needed to stop ignoring the people around them, and everyone wholeheartedly agreed. But nothing changed. We eventually stopped going there (between the unfriendliness and the fluff sermons every week, and the fact that we had to drive an hour to get there, there wasn't much to keep us there), and we didn't hear a peep from any of those people. The only e-mails we got from any of them were mass mailings. When I e-mailed them to take us off their mailing list, they finally said, "Yeah, we noticed you stopped coming. What happened?" Keep in mind that this was MONTHS after we stopped going there. So we moved on to First Baptist in Bisbee. It was a bigger church, by southern Arizona standards (maybe 80 people each week), but again there was no one our age. Not even close. A few older people were nice enough to introduce themselves, and every so often would come over and say hi, but it never really went much past that point (though I will say that the pastor and his wife are very nice people). So we found ourselves in the sorry state I described in a comment on my last post: we'd come in, sit down, get ignored, listen to the sermon, and leave. The one big advantage this church had was that the sermons were actually GOOD. But we can sit at home on Sunday mornings and listen to good sermons on the radio. What we need is a church family. We need to feel like we belong somewhere. We tried Valley Bible Church this past Sunday; it's basically our last hope. There aren't really any other church options for us if this one doesn't work out, unless we want to drive all the way to Lordsburg, NM and look there. Valley's a pretty popular church for New Tribes people, but it's also a very small church, and there was only one couple there around our age. We've met the couple once before, and they're nice enough. But they're also missionaries in training, which means they're going to be gone soon. And we'll be back in that same lonely church boat.

So if a guy can't find a friend at church, where else can he look? Campus is full of young people. But a lot of them are fresh out of high school, and I'm going on 28, so our perspectives just aren't the same. Plus, the aviation department is sort of separate from the rest of the school, so the only other students I ever meet are other aviation students. That wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, but this is also a very small department. I know for a fact that the only other Christians here are a 19-year-old girl (not the best person with whom to strike up a friendship) and a twenty-something guy with whom I've unsuccessfully tried to form a friendship.

What this all boils down to is that I'm feeling pretty lonely lately. Like I mentioned in my last post, if I have something I want to talk about with a friend, I'm out of luck. I don't want to sound like I don't appreciate Jen. I appreciate her very much. I wouldn't have been able to last this long out here without her. But a man needs other men to talk with, just like a woman needs other women. I think that really had a lot to do with how I was feeling when I wrote my last post. I'm lonely, and that feeling is aggravated by our utter lack of a church family, of a place where I feel like I belong. Where I feel welcome. Or wanted. I guess all I can really do is look forward to finishing the AMT program 16 months from now, because we'll be able to move on to the next place God has for us. Maybe I'll find a friend there.

"Ghosts appear and fade away..."

2008-06-19T07:27:00.008-07:00

Okay, I'm going to admit something. The overwhelming majority of the time, I have no desire at all to ever go back to Michigan, for anything. Ever. That's not what I'm admitting, though, as I already consider it pretty common knowledge. What I am admitting is that, after taking the time to check in on some blogs this morning, I find myself wanting to go back to Michigan. There, I said it. I want to visit Michigan. I want to eat a #18 (whole on white, cold, with everything) from Intermission Deli in Bay City, then grab some Superman ice cream and take a stroll on the Riverwalk. I want service with a smile (or at least not a scowl) from wherever I go. I want to not have to knife-fight with enormous bugs in order to walk through my home. I want to hear english spoken in public by someone other than me or Jenny. I want to get caught out in a nice, warm rain. I want to see water when I'm out and about, without going two hours out of my way to see it. I want to hang out in a mall I can't walk the entire length of in 2 minutes. I want to know for sure where I'm going to church on a Sunday, without having to consider drive-time, sermon quality, or the fact that no one will talk to us while we're there. I want to be excited about telling something to a friend, without immediately afterward realizing I don't have any friends around to tell. I want to see green grass and smell it being cut. I want Bob Barker to host The Price is Right again (okay, that one's not really Michigan related). I just want to get out of here for a while. I think I might even NEED to get out of here for a while.

I know we technically haven't even left the United States yet, but I'm afraid I'm already experiencing the first hints of missionary burn-out. Or maybe it's just a mood.

Update

2008-06-16T07:25:00.002-07:00

Here's what's happened in the week since I last posted. I was able to get that night solo out of the way, and it mostly went well, except for a couple small mistakes on my part. I still have 0.8 of an hour of night solo to log, but that'll be easy enough to take care of once the new semester starts. For reasons that haven't been made known, it was decided there will be no summer flights this year, which means all the college planes are grounded until the end of July.

We finished moving into the house on Friday, though we're still a ways from being fully unpacked. Our A/C doesn't work at the house, so some dude is supposed to come today and install a new swamp cooler (and possibly also fix the A/C; I'm a little hazy on this point).

Jenny's wrist is healing up well. She still has to take a painkiller now and then, but I guess it's bothering her far less than it used to.

And that's about all the news that's fit to print.

Jenny

2008-06-09T18:26:00.003-07:00

Oh, and for those who don't know (which is probably everyone except possibly Kara) Jenny sprained her wrist over the weekend while we were moving stuff into the new place (not sure exactly how or when). She's on painkillers and wearing a wrist brace. Please pray it heals up quickly, so she'll be out of pain, and so we can finish moving this weekend. Thanks!

Joshua 1:9

2008-06-09T16:46:00.003-07:00

It's 4:48 right now. I'm waiting for 5:00, because that's when the new Terminal Aerodrome Forecast (TAF) comes out. Unless something drastic has changed since the last forecast came out at 11:00, I'll be making my night flight to Tucson for 10 stop-and-go's. I think I posted about this before and said I just had to do 10 touch-and-go's, but I found out about 90 minutes ago that I'm required (by the school, not the FAA) to do stop-and-go's instead. They're essentially the same thing, except a stop-and-go has me bringing the airplane to a complete stop on the runway before taking back off. It's really a pretty minor inconvenience, but it's going to add some minutes to my already-considerable (in my opinion) flight time. I don't expect to be back to the college until around 11 PM. Another half-hour will be spent securing my plane and driving home, so I won't be getting in until maybe 11:30. That's not necessarily the end of the world, but it'll be some time after that when my adrenaline rush finally burns out and I can sleep.

All of this kind of makes me sound like I'm bored with the idea and I'm just waiting to get it over with. In actually, I'm finding it hard not to be scared of this flight. I've already made one attempt at it, and my nerves got the best of me so I aborted the flight. This is probably my last chance at it until July, though, because the powers-that-be decided there will be no summer flights this year, and the semester ends on Friday. So I either trust God and just go do it tonight, or else I sit and kick myself for a month. If any of you read this before 10:30 PM Michigan time, I sure could use some prayer.

Decisions, decisions

2008-05-31T16:52:00.004-07:00

Let's talk about the house. For those who don't know, Jen got a call last week from Patty Chambers who, along with her husband, Chuck, own Lee Station Ranch north of Douglas. Patty was calling with a fairly unique offer, especially in light of our recent move to Twin Buttes. Turns out Patty's mom, who owned her own home on the ranch property, passed away in March. Chuck and Patty don't want her house to sit empty for 4 years until their son and his family come to stay in it, so they're looking for someone to live there in the meantime. Since we're only going to be in the area for another 16 months or so, they've offered the house to us. They don't want any rent from us; the only thing we'd have to pay is the monthy electric bill. Nice as that seems, living on the ranch would turn our five-minute daily commute into an almost-thirty-minute commute each morning and evening. Because of that, our gut reaction was to turn down the Chambers' offer straight out. But we decided to at least go take a look at the house and talk to Chuck and Patty. So we drove out to Lee Station yesterday morning, and the house is AMAZING!!! It's big, it's clean, it's furnished, it's in good shape, It's quiet and secluded, it has an unbelievable view and a garden and a sewing room and a monstrous kitchen (all HUGE selling points for Jen).

After our tour and some time spent talking with Chuck and Patty, Jen and I went to El Chef for breakfast and made a list of pros and cons, to try and help us decide what to do. And when it comes right down to it, the only real big con we could think of is that longer drive time every morning and evening. With gas prices steadily rising like they are, the thought of adding 25 minutes to our commute seems a little silly. At the same time, though, we'd be saving $265 a month on rent, so we'd be able to buy more gas if need be. Another drawback is the thought that we just moved a month ago, and we'd have to do it all over again. It's a hassle, sure, but I'd be hard pressed to think it's not worth it.

We assured the Chambers' that we'd pray about it and try to have an answer for them in one week. I'd appreciate it if you all would pray, too. We really need to know what's the right course of action in this situation. We had a hard enough time deciding to move off-campus; now we're talking about moving much farther.

Because it tickles me

2008-05-28T12:25:00.003-07:00

Here's my favorite line from the new Indiana Jones movie:

"Well, the way you're sinking your teeth into those wubbleyous, I should think Eastern Ukraine."

The Car

2008-05-21T15:32:00.002-07:00

Jen tried her best to keep people up-to-date with the whole car situation. I thought, though, for anyone who might be even remotely interested, that I would try to explain in a bit more detail what went wrong. On Thursday night, the car started acting up. It had a little shimmy to it when it was stopped or in park, and it tended to stall if we decelerated too much too soon. Based on those clues, I guessed we had a bad cylinder. Turns out I was right; our number 3 cylinder was only registering 20 pounds of compression, while the other 5 cylinders were all around 120 lbs. Upon inspection, it was revealed that our number 3 cylinder had a broken rocker arm (rocker arms open and close the valves that let in air to be burned with the fuel, and let out the exhaust gases created by burning the fuel and air). I'm not sure which rocker arm was broken (intake or exhaust), but either way a valve wasn't being fully opened when it needed to be to keep the cylinder firing correctly. Since the problem was a rocker arm, there wasn't much need to take the head off the cylinder (which would have been expensive), because the rocker arms are outside the cylinder heads. This was really the preferable diagnosis, since the only other likely problems were a cracked cylinder ($$$) or a damaged valve (which would have meant taking off the cylinder head, which ultimately would have meant $$$). We were also told, by our mechanic, that Buick engines have a tendency to break their rocker arms, so the next time we experience engine trouble, we'll at least have a starting point for figuring out the problem.

As for my long-awaited glasses we picked up last night... they have to go back. Again. They used a too-long screw to hold the frame together around the right lens, which means that 1) I have a doofy-looking screw poking up out of my frames, and 2) the included sunglass clip won't sit properly because there's a stupid little screw in the way. This whole issue is becoming far too complicated, as far as I'm concerned. Does anyone know of anywhere else in Cochise County that takes Avesis vision insurance?

The Move

2008-05-06T16:13:00.003-07:00

The past week and a half have been pretty disheartening for me as I've seen what a hard time Jen and I have had in adjusting to a new home. Jen was just telling me last night that the trailer still doesn't feel like home to her yet. It has started feeling like home to me, except at night when the trailer starts making all sorts of night noises that are unfamiliar to me; then I can't sleep. For instance, the floor boards started creaking last night at about 11:15, as though someone was walking down the hall. It woke me up, and I thought it was Jen going to the bathroom, but then I opened my eyes, and she was lying right next to me. After that, every time I was just dropping back into unconsciousness, they'd creak again, for no good reason. I'm also really struggling to adjust to being at school all day, now that we don't live on campus anymore. We've already had to deal with a handful of minor repairs and upkeep issues, but the one we're faced with now is a doozie. We've been trying for over a week now to get our computer to connect to the wi-fi that runs through the trailer park. But when it gets to "acquiring network address" it just sits and sits and never gets any further. Now, I know our wireless works, because it instantly connected to the college when we first moved here. I called a computer-savvy friend, and he walked me through some troubleshooting before coming to the conclusion that it's something on the server's end of the connection. After hounding our landlord all weekend, we finally got him to bring the park's resident computer guy over to try and fix our situation, to no avail. Now it's looking like we're just not going to be able to have the internet at our home. Frankly, I'm perfectly fine with that. As you've no doubt already noticed, I don't spend a whole lot of time blogging or anything; I basically only use the internet for games and weather forecasts. But Jen's a different story. The internet is an extremely valuable tool for her to keep in touch with friends and family she left back in Michigan. For reasons we haven't completely figured out in the last two years, making friends in southern Arizona is like trying to catch a leprechaun; it just ain't happening. So most of Jen's social circle consists of the people she left behind. Now, if she doesn't have free access to the internet, she's basically shut off from that social circle. Being a guy, I see this basically as a problem that needs fixing, and I'm desperate to fix it for my wife's sake. The only real solution I'm coming up with, though, is to buy a laptop that can go wireless, so we can go to McDonald's or somewhere else that offers wi-fi, and tap into it whenever Jen gets the urge to check in with her circle. I'm thinking that our "economic stimulus" check would be more than enough to cover a laptop, but I've been unable to talk Jen into making the purchase. The girl doesn't even like to spend $5 on herself to buy a shirt; buying a laptop to meet her needs is almost unthinkable. It's just frustrating for me not to be able to provide my wife with something she really needs.

Jackpot!!!

2008-04-25T13:31:00.003-07:00

Jenny called Twin Buttes today, just to verify that we were still going to be able to move in on Monday, and the owner told her we can have the place tomorrow afternoon!!! To that end, I spent a pretty fair chunk of my morning packing more boxes, and that's probably how we'll spend the rest of our afternoon, as well. This is very, very exciting!

Night Solo

2008-04-20T21:19:00.004-07:00

I logged my very first night solo flight time tonight. I've been in my own head far too much lately, about my landings. All it's really done is make me real jittery when I fly. To that end, I spent some time this evening praying that God would get me out of my head and show me when to flare so I could make some decent landings and start building up my confidence again. I did three landings tonight, and all of them were really pretty good. Each time I came across the runway threshold, God showed me just when to flare, and each time I made a landing I was very pleased with. A part of me wanted to keep going and do more, but I decided that sooner or later I was bound to have a landing that wasn't so pretty, and it would just get me all freaked out again. So I took my three well-made landings and used them to assure myself that landing isn't such a hard thing to do, after all. Flare was found; confidence was built up; prayer was answered; God is still good.

Fail-safe

2008-04-18T10:06:00.002-07:00

Despite not being in the mood to fly this morning, I went over to aviation bright and early and got a plane all ready to go to New Mexico. The duty pilot checked over my planning and gave me the okay to fly, so I got in my plane and started it up. I noticed that my fuel pressure gauge was bobbing back and forth, but I figured it was just the plane getting itself awake and situated. I took off, turned to my heading, and began my climb up to 9,500 feet. One thousand feet above the ground, I switched off my electric fuel pump, per procedure, since the engine-driven pump would be operating just fine on its own by them. When I finally got up to 9,500 feet, I noticed that my fuel pressure was on the low end of the green arc, which isn't too terribly rare in the Cherokees, so I switched my electric pump back on to boost me back up to a wide margin of safety. Things were good for a few more minutes, until I noticed that my fuel pressure had bled back down to where it had been before I turned on my electric fuel pump. Before this morning, that was something I'd never seen before. Usually, turning the electric pump back on solves the problem and everything is ducky. I flipped the pump switch off, then flipped it back on again, and my pressure spiked back up to normal... and then bled back down again. It was at that point that I did a 180 and headed back home. After the plane is started and running, the electric fuel pump is more or less just a backup for the engine-driven pump. I probably could have made it to Silver City and Deming and back without any difficulty. But my fuel pressure with the engine-driven pump was already lower than I really like it to be, and it was looking very possible that I wouldn't have any options if the pressure dropped below the green arc. No fuel pressure equals no fuel to the engine. When my engine is starved of fuel, my airplane is magically transformed into a glider. Now, it's true that a glider can make a perfectly safe landing just like an airplane, but that's assuming the glider has someplace to land. Since I happened to be flying over the southern slopes of the Chiricahua Mountains when my fuel pressure dropped, it would have been quite a feat to find a safe spot upon which to set down my glider. I took a little flak from an instructor who happened to be in his office when I got back to the school, about my decision to abort the flight. Then I called my instructor and explained my situation, and she praised my decision and assured me it was the right thing to do, which boosted my confidence quite a bit. I guess the lesson here is that being a good pilot is more a matter of decision-making than actually handling the controls of a plane.

Again and Again

2008-04-17T20:45:00.003-07:00

Well, I know I never really posted about my long cross-country that I flew a couple weeks ago (I haven't been online much lately), but tomorrow morning I'm flying to Deming and Silver City, both in New Mexico. I've still got quite a bit of solo cross-country time to log, so a nice Friday morning flight to NM seems like a fair way to knock some of it out. That's assuming the Friday forecast is still favorable in the morning, of course. Otherwise, I'll be enjoying a nice Friday morning on the ground.

Packing

2008-04-13T16:23:00.002-07:00

We went on a short box hunt this morning after we finished our Subway breakfast sandwiches (they were delicious). Wal-Mart had trouble giving us any definite answers on when or how we could obtain boxes from them, so we popped over to Safeway. The dude we talked to there told us to come back around 2 or 3, and he'd have some boxes for us. So I did, and he did. We ended up with six apple boxes from the produce section. I've already filled up three of them (I've been home from Safeway for an hour) with books and games. Most of our bookcase is now packed up, minus the books I need for aviation and our coloring books (you never know when the urge to color is going to hit). And all of our games are packed, except for one deck of cards and one card game, and Star Wars Monopoly because it was too long to fit in an apple box. Our little corner of the bedroom where the filled boxes go is starting to really fill up. This is good, because we usually wait til the last minute to pack (this will be our fourth move in 3.5 years of marriage), but it's also bad, because we don't get possession of our new home for another 15 days. I really hope we don't go crazy with packing to the point where we eat McDonald's for every meal for a week because all our kitchen items are tucked away waiting for to move.

Disturbingly Eager

2008-04-11T17:42:00.003-07:00

It's strange, but I didn't realize how incredibly eager we are to move, until our "let's casually pack a few things this afternoon" turned into "full-blown, work-up-a-sweat packing day." Unfortunately, we only had a few boxes to work with, so we've run out of things to put stuff in for now. But that's only going to stop us until we come across more cardboard.

Long way to fly...

2008-04-03T18:29:00.002-07:00

God willing, I'll be making my long solo cross-country flight tomorrow morning. I've got all my courses and checkpoints figured out; I'm just waiting til 7pm so I can get the weather forecast and finish up my nav logs. I'll be flying out of here at 6:45 tomorrow morning, and I probably won't be back til sometime around 3:00; maybe even a little later. In preparation, Belinda and I worked on gusty crosswind takeoffs and landings during my flight period this morning. Those went well, so I don't see any reason why tomorrow shouldn't be more of the same.

On a sadder note, there was a plane crash at the Benson airport last night, that apparently claimed 2 lives. Benson is a 50-mile flight from here, and the airport is a popular checkpoint for Cochise College students, when flying to Tucson. As a matter of fact, I'm using it as my first checkpoint tomorrow morning. The plane that crashed was making a short trip from Safford (one of my favorite airports) to Benson. The pilot landed hard and bounced, then added full power, which flipped the plane over and killed both people on board. It's a very sobering thing to hear about, and it makes a pilot realize once again that panic and poor planning are two things we can NEVER allow into the airplane with us.

Nothing in aviation is ever concrete...

2008-03-26T18:46:00.003-07:00

I sat down and talked with Belinda regarding my commercial training and the requirements I have to meet. It turns out I'm still going to have some flight time to log before I'm done with Commercial 2. Here's how this discovery changes my last post: instead of 1 night solo cross-country, I now have two; instead of only having the one long day cross-country, I now also have 2 (possibly 3) shorter, though still fairly long, cross-countries to fly in addition to the long one; I'm going to end up logging 8-10 hours of local solo time, just flying around the valley to rack up hours.

Where I'm At

2008-03-23T10:28:00.003-07:00

Some people are starting to wonder, I guess, so here's the latest on the aviation front. This past week I flew a very short solo cross-country to Willcox, just to get used to soloing again (it was my first solo flight of any kind since last spring). That same night, I made a local flight with Clif (the only instructor on duty all week) with a heavy emphasis on landings, to prepare me for the night solo flight I have to make. With these two flights done and over, there are really only two things I need to do to finish Commercial 2 (there are 3 phases to complete before I earn my Commercial certificate).

The first thing I have to do is make a LONG solo cross-country flight. The big requirement for the flight is one leg of at least 250 nautical miles, and our syllabus gives us the option of four options we can take to complete this beast. I'm mostly set on the option that will take me to Blythe, CA then Kingman, AZ then back to the college. I've already sat down with my sectional (you'll recall that a sectional is an aviation map) and mostly figured out my route. Now the big question is when I'll actually get to make that flight. It's sort of doubtful that I'll be able to go during the week, because I'll be gone approximately 8 hours, and they like to have all the Cherokees available for flight periods on the weekdays.

The second flight I have to make is a night solo cross-country to Tucson and Casa Grande. I can go to those airports in whichever order I choose, but I'm required to do ten stop-and-gos at Tucson. A stop-and-go is a lot like a touch-and-go, except you have to come to a full stop on the runway after landing and before you take back off. I anticipate that exercise being extremely tedious, so I'll probably save Tucson for last. The bright side of this flight is that I won't be limited to weekends; there's not much demand for planes at night, so all I have to worry about is having an instructor around after hours to dispatch me. I think I have to have 5 hours total of night solo flight, and this cross-country should take about 3.5 hours, so I'll have to maybe go back up by myself for some local time before I'm through.

Unless I've completely misunderstood my instructor, once I've met these two goals, I'll be done with Commercial 2 and on to Commercial 3. Since I'm finishing my Commercial certificate under FAR Part 61, there are only a few flight requirements left. The main focus for phase 3 is getting really good at the commercial maneuvers in the Cessna, and then I'll be more or less ready for the check ride. It's definitely possible for me to knock this certificate out before summer, God willing.

Confession

2008-03-17T16:21:00.002-07:00

I need to get something off my chest. It's been bothering me since Saturday afternoon, and I'm hoping that confessing it on my blog will help dispel the guilt. Among the food items being sold at the airshow on Saturday were trays of nachos slathered in hot, gooey, orange cheese sauce. Since my $5 hamburger more or less completely failed to satisfy me, I decided to buy myself some nachos just after Jen and I had found a good spot to set up our chairs for the show. I wandered over to the food booth in question, paid my money and received my pile of nachos and goo. I had taken about 5 steps away from the booth, when a sudden, strong gust of wind (I'm not joking) blew the top chip clean off my pile and right onto the back of a guy in a nice, white tanktop. Of course, this left a hot, gooey, orange ring of cheese on his back, but he didn't seem to notice for the first second or two after impact. I panicked, fearing he would think I had intentionally attacked him with hot nachos, so I put my head down and double-timed it away from him. As I made my escape, I heard voices and such that left me believing he was quickly becoming aware of his situation. I hurried back to my seat and prayed he wasn't following me. As I sat and ate my nachos, though, I started feeling really guilty that I'd ruined this guy's clean, white shirt and hadn't even had the decency to fess up to the man. I'm not sure what I could have done for him, besides apologize and offer to let him throw a nacho back at me, but I still feel terrible about the whole thing. If, through some strange miracle, you were at the Douglas airshow in a white wife-beater and some jerk nailed you in the back with a cheesy corn chip and you're actually reading this, I'm really sorry about your shirt and I swear it was unintentional. If you want me to pay for your shirt, leave me a comment and we'll work out the details.

2008-03-15T19:42:00.003-07:00

Jen and I had fun at the airshow today. I'm sure one or both of us will provide more detail and some pictures soon, but for now it's enough to say that we were at the airfield for around 7 hours, and we both got badly sun/wind-burned. Just wait til you see the pictures, friends.

Airshow!

2008-03-14T21:56:00.003-07:00

Tomorrow is the second annual Border-to-Border Airshow here in Douglas. Jen and I have been looking forward to it for a while now, and we plan on leaving the apartment at 10:00, which will give us some time to eat tasty carnival food and look around before the actual show starts at noon. The winds have been pretty strong and gusty here the past couple days, and tomorrow is forecast to be more of the same. I'm curious how strong the winds actually have to be before the aerobatic pilots are grounded. Let's hope it takes more than tomorrow can offer.

Rated!

2008-03-11T15:02:00.002-07:00

After a very tense, very turbulent 1.2-hour flight, I'm now officially instrument rated! Tomorrow, I get back into the Cherokee to start working on commercial phase 2. Thanks for all your prayers. And thanks be to God, who answers prayer so faithfully, despite the failures of His children.

Tomorrow

2008-03-10T10:14:00.002-07:00

I flew a practice flight with Belinda this morning, to go over what I'll most likely be doing on tomorrow's recheck. It went really well, but that might be, in part, because the sky was like glass this morning. It's hard to screw up when there's no turbulence or wind shear knocking you around. When we got back from our flight, Belinda talked to my examiner and found out that my recheck is going to be at noon-ish tomorrow, when the turbulence and wind will be much more pronounced. The forecast for tomorrow calls for light winds, though, so it still might not be that bad. We shall all find out tomorrow.

2008-03-08T18:18:00.002-07:00

I spent this past week sick, so I didn't get a chance to fly even once all week. And I just found out the other day that my examiner isn't going to be around on Wednesday or Thursday of this coming week, so Tuesday is pretty much my only chance before spring break to finish my instrument rating. Monday morning is my time to go back over to Libby with my instructor and work out the kinks. If I can finish the instrument rating on Tuesday, then I can get back into the Cherokee on Wednesday and/or Thursday, and fly a long (about 7.5 hours) solo cross-country during spring break. Please, please pray that the weather is favorable for flying on Tuesday. I really want to be done with instrument.

Not much of an update...

2008-03-03T20:07:00.002-07:00

I don't have much to report since my last post. I got sick again over the weekend, with a slightly scaled-down version of the same thing I was sick with a couple weeks ago. That said, I skipped my flight period this morning. The winds have been pretty ridiculous lately, and today was no exception, so had I actually gone to my flight period I wouldn't have flown anyway. This pushes back the tentative retest schedule Belinda and I had figured out last week. And with the winds as strong and unpredictable as they've been, I'm not sure when, realistically, I'll have an opportunity to get back in the plane with my examiner and finish up that rating. God's timing is perfect, and He's got His hand in this, just like in everything else, so I'm not too concerned about it all. It'll happen when the Lord wants it to, and not a second before then. However, it would be nice if it happened sort of soon, because I want to wrap up my instrument rating before I go get my medical certificate renewed, and I have to do that before the last day of March.

Disapproval

2008-02-27T14:06:00.002-07:00

Well, my application for instrument rating was disapproved (that's the proper way of saying I failed my check ride). I have an excuse that I could easily use here to make it look like I was somehow victimized, but the reality is that I made a very foolish mistake that could have been fatal if I'd been by myself in actual instrument weather conditions. So I didn't pass this time. The good news is that I have a sort of "get out of jail free" card that will make it so I only have to redo that part of the check ride that I did wrong. I won't have to redo the oral or any other portions of the flight. In practical terms this means that, when Belinda approves me to retest, I'll get in the plane with my examiner, fly to Libby, do 2 instrument approaches, and come home. That's not so bad. It's really not. And I'm still ALL DONE STUDYING!

Murphy's Law

2008-02-27T07:50:00.003-07:00

I had a long, ranting post all typed out, but I decided it wasn't necessarily written with the most Christlike of attitudes. Here's the short version: I didn't think to reserve 737ND for this morning so I could use it on my check ride. Accordingly, someone else took it before I got to the aviation building this morning. The only other plane I could have flown is one I've never flown before, so I wasn't really comfortable with the idea of taking it on a check ride. Despite that, I tried to preflight it, but the battery was dead. So I called my examiner and asked him if we could go at 1130, instead, which was fine by him. Immediately after I hung up, I went and reserved 7ND for 1130. Now, if God will keep the winds from getting too strong, I should have myself a check ride in a few hours.

Giant Killer

2008-02-26T19:05:00.003-07:00

After a fairly difficult start (for reasons I'm too tired to explain right now), I passed my oral exam at about 5:15 this afternoon. I'm scheduled to fly the hands-on portion of the exam tomorrow morning at 7:30. But the important thing is, I'M DONE STUDYING FOR THE INSTRUMENT ORAL!!! No matter how tomorrow goes, I'm done studying. I can enjoy my weekend and cross-stitch and do anything I want, without feeling the slightest bit guilty that I'm not studying for my oral! Thank you all for your prayers. God was faithful, just like always.

2008-02-25T09:29:00.002-07:00

I just found out (seriously, it was only about 10 minutes ago) that my examiner doesn't want to start my check ride until 12:30 tomorrow afternoon. He also mentioned that we may very well end up doing the oral tomorrow and saving the hands-on until Wednesday (assuming we have decent winds on Wednesday). I'm mostly okay with that possibility. It enables me to really focus on passing the oral, without having flight stuff rolling around in the back of my mind the whole time. An added bonus of drawing the exam out like that, is that I probably won't have a flight period on Thursday (we'll just start fresh on Monday), so I'll have a four-day weekend in which I won't have to do ANY studying!!! Cross-stitch, here I come!

Goliath

2008-02-24T09:32:00.005-07:00

Despite my posting about it yesterday morning, the reality of my situation didn't actually hit me until last night around bedtime. That's when my smile went away and the anxiety made my guts feel like overactive snakes. I hate getting like this anytime something important is about to happen in my life. I hate being all preoccupied and jittery and moody. I so badly want to just take this in stride, to have the sort of confidence David had when he turned down armor and went to face a giant with a sling and 5 smooth stones. I guess it's all about faith. And I guess I'm seeing how small mine really is.

Check Ride

2008-02-23T09:15:00.002-07:00

It's now official (or as official as anything in the aviation world can be, with the wind as gusty and unpredictable as it's been lately): my check ride for my instrument rating is Tuesday. The oral will probably begin around 9 and, assuming I don't fail it, the flight portion will probably happen sometime around noon. This weekend (and Monday), I'll be hitting the books to fill in the gaps in my knowledge. Today's big topic of study is going to be weather and aviation weather services. I would really appreciate prayer for Tuesday. Thanks!

Resolution

2008-02-19T13:34:00.003-07:00

Kelly got me thinking when she suggested I have a second blog to serve as our missionary webpage. I thought it was a really smart idea, so I created a new blog this afternoon and e-mailed Cathy about it. If all goes according to plan, the link will be changed so that it goes to the new blog, and I can stop trying to figure out how to make this blog more missionary-ish. Now I just have to come up with something to put on the new blog.

Great Expectations?

2008-02-15T21:38:00.002-07:00

I discovered, yesterday, that Jen and I are now mentioned on the missionaries page of Immanuel's website, along with a "click here for more info" link that delivers the curious to this blog. Now, I have no problem at all with how that's set up, but it's gotten me really thinking about my blog. I recently had a conversation with our Bisbee pastor, in part about people's expectations (and the expectations I perceive people having) of Jen and me as missionaries in training. And now on our home church's missionary page, there's a link to my blog intended for people to get to know more about us and what we're doing. Up til now, I haven't intended my blog to be the sort of online prayer letter that so many missionaries' blogs and websites wind up being. But is that what it should be? Until now, this blog has just been me (infrequently) posting thoughts or rants or play-by-plays of important events or (even more infrequently) photos. But now it feels like it should be something more than that; not necessarily more formal, but perhaps more formatted, if that makes any sort of sense at all. All this time, I've sort of been operating under the assumption that the only people who come here and read stuff are people who already know who we are and what we're doing and just want my personal take on whatever Jen's already posted about (she's way better at blogging than I am). That's sort of been the purpose of all this. But now it's been given sort of a different purpose, and I'm trying to figure out exactly what effect that new purpose should have on az2maf. What do you guys think? Despite the flavor of the comments on my last couple posts, this isn't just some trick to get more people to comment on my blog. I really want your thoughts, opinions, etc.

As I was saying...

2008-02-13T20:28:00.002-07:00

I was so shocked to see that someone besides my wife or Kara actually posted a comment on my blog, that I'm now going to finish my earlier tale of the stage check gone wrong. I'm in a bit of an awkward situation in the flight program, because my flight instructor is the school's assistant chief flight instructor, one of only two people who work on campus who could perform my stage check. Since I flew my long IFR with her, she couldn't serve as my examiner on the stage check (it would look shady). The chief flight instructor is the only other person here who could do my stage check, but he's going to be the examiner on my check ride, so that wouldn't work, either (it would also look shady). What's the solution to this horrible dilemma? Why, ask Dr. Bob to come down from Tucson and fly the stage check, of course! Dr. Bob is the chief flight instructor of our Tucson satellite facility. He took up flight instruction after he retired from his position as CEO of some company (read: old). So Dr. Bob flew down on Thursday morning. I'd only met him one time before that morning, and my first impression of him was that he was very quiet... and old. My experience with him on Thursday pretty well solidified that impression in my mind. He struggled to think up questions to ask me on the oral and, I think because of our age difference, we had a really hard time communicating. He'd ask me a question that I wouldn't understand. I'd give him an answer that he wouldn't understand. Then he'd tell me I was wrong and proceed to give an explanation that I wouldn't understand. It was frustrating.

After an hour, Dr. Bob looked at his watch and said, "We've been here about an hour, right? Let's go fly." So I went out and did my preflight inspection. Everything looked okay (though I admit, I forgot to check the fuel tanks. It should probably be stated at this point that I sometimes flake out pretty badly in stressful situations) so I went back in and told him I was ready to fly, but that I needed to use the restroom first. He said he'd meet me outside, so I ran to the bathroom. When I got outside, Bob had the right wing untied and he was in the process of untying the tail. Since I always untie the wings one after the other, I just assumed that he'd already untied the left wing, as well, since he was working on the tail. Keep in mind I could have just looked at the chain, since it was on my side of the plane and everything. But I didn't. So we got in the plane, I went through my checklist, and started the plane. I made sure everything was up to snuff, then attempted to taxi out of the shade hangar. We got about three feet before there was a horrible sound and the nose jerked hard to the left. Apparently, that's what happens when you don't untie the left wing. A mechanic came running out and made sure the wing wasn't broken, then helped me untie the wing. I started the plane back up and we taxied out to the runway. I got most of the way through my "before takeoff" checklist. In fact, I got to the part where you tune your radios and make sure they're all working properly. I got so frazzled by the thought that I was taking too long, that I forgot to finish the checklist. The only two items I missed were turning on the lights and setting the flaps at 10 degrees. See, a Cessna 182 requires you to have 10 degrees of flaps out when you take off, so you can get sufficient lift. Yeah. I took off without my flaps. I noticed that the plane really didn't want to leave the ground, but I got it off and then proceeded with my climb checklist (yeah, planes have checklists for just about everything). When I got to the "retract flaps" part, i realized my mistake. It was going to be a long, long ride.

I feel it's necessary, at this point, to state for the record that Dr. Bob was pretty weak in his role as stage check examiner. The point of the IFR check ride (and, accordingly, the final stage check) is to make sure a student can function in Instrument Meteorological Conditions (IMC) under an instrument flight plan. A HUGE part of that is maintaining proper communications with Air Traffic Control. Since neither check takes part under an actual instrument flight plan, though, the examiner is supposed to pretend to be the Air Route Traffic Control Center and give clearances and stuff to the student. I actually had to ask Bob to give me clearances. And then, when we got to Sierra Vista, which has a control tower (and, logically, controllers), Bob took over the radio and made my calls for me, so then I basically had to ask him if I could do the talking. I did two instrument approaches at Libby (Sierra Vista Airport is also Libby Army Airfield; it's a joint-use, so we usually just call it Libby); one was pretty good, and one was not as good. Then Dr. Bob had me fly direct back to Bisbee Douglas International (it's a non-towered airport about 7 miles northeast of the college) for one more approach. I was about 5/6 of the way done with the approach, when Bob told me to break it off and head for home because some yahoo was flying around over the airport and Bob couldn't spot him. Keep in mind that I made the entire flight without being able to see outside the plane, so Bob had to watch all the traffic to make sure we didn't hit anyone.

When we got back to the school, I made a decent (not good by any means) landing and parked us back in the shade hangar. We got back inside and Dr. Bob proceeded to critique my flight. The problem was that I had to tell him which things I'd done wrong, because he couldn't remember. Then he started filling out my logbook (his entry is nearly unreadable because it has to be written kind of small and, again, he's pretty old), and asked me if I had any questions. (This is my favorite part of the whole thing.) I said, "Did I pass?" And he very casually replied, "Sure." Then he ate a hamburger and I walked out.

I told all of this to my instructor on Monday, and she decided that we would unofficially redo the flight portion of the stage check, since it's virtually identical to the flight portion of the check ride. Unfortunately, we were going to fly that do-over today and possibly again tomorrow, as well, but since I'm sick I didn't go to my flight period today and, unless I'm back to 100% tomorrow morning, I'm probably not flying tomorrow, either. Very, very frustrating.

Stage Check, or That Really Stupid Thing I Did

2008-02-13T09:54:00.003-07:00

The day after my long IFR that went so miraculously well, I had my stage check. Now there's been some confusion as to just what the heck this stage check was about, so I'll take a moment to explain it before I tell you how it went. In the Federal Aviation Regulations, there are two different sections (Part 61 and Part 141) under which a student can learn to fly. Part 61 is sort of the norm for anyone who goes out to a local airport, hires an instructor, and rents a plane so they can learn to fly. Part 141 is intended more for flight schools. It's certainly the more clearly-defined of the two Parts, because, at least in theory, a pilot who learned Part 141 is probably going to be favored by a potential employer, over a pilot who learned Part 61. Part 141 schools have to teach by an approved syllabus, and each stage of a student's progress has to be checked by a stage check (consisting of an oral exam and an actual flight with an approved instructor). Here's where it all applies to my situation: before a Part 141 instrument student can take the check ride (the actual test that will actually earn that student his Instrument Rating), that student is required to take a "final stage check" to determine whether that student is ready to take the check ride. And that's what I took last Thursday. This regulation is both a blessing and a curse to a student. It's a blessing because failing a stage check doesn't go on any sort of permanent record, while failing a check ride will haunt a pilot when he's looking for employment. It's a curse because the stage check is more or less exactly the same thing as the check ride, so even if you pass it with flying colors, you still have to turn around and do it all again with a different person in the right seat.

I've been really sick the last couple days with some kind of respiratory infection or something. Typing everything I just typed has made me really tired, so I think I'll wait til later to tell you how my stage check went. Sorry. I didn't mean for this to be a two-parter.

2008-02-06T15:59:00.000-07:00

I reckon it's time to update. I flew my long IFR cross-country this morning. It went great! As I tend to base my worth as a pilot on however my most recent flight went, I'm feeling about 10 feet tall right now. The purpose of the flight was to make sure I could fly according to an IFR (instrument flight rules) flight plan, if the weather was ever bad enough that I couldn't fly visually. To that end, I had to wear the hood (a view-limiting device) from a few minutes after takeoff until just a few minutes before touchdown at the college. What that ultimately means is that I flew from CC to Casa Grande (south of Phoenix) to Tucson and back to Douglas without being able to see outside the airplane. My instructor was with me, acting as my safety pilot; she was my eyes outside the plane. Like I said, everything went great. In fact, the whole thing came off far better than I had expected it to. It really did wonders for my confidence level, both regarding my IFR skills as well as my piloting skills in general. This all just might work out, after all.

Thanks to those who prayed for me. Your efforts made the difference.

Oh! I almost forgot to mention this. I received my logbook endorsements last week, for both complex and high performance airplanes. In order to fly high performance airplanes (each engine on the plane being over 200 horsepower) or complex airplanes (the plane has retractable landing gear, an adjustable pitch propeller, and cowl flaps), a pilot has to receive instruction in the appropriate type of airplane and then get a written endorsement in his logbook from a qualified instructor. Since the school uses Cessna 182s for instrument training, and since our 182s are complex and high performance, I got endorsed for both types last week. So now, if I ever get the chance to rent one type or the other (or both), I'll be able to. Exciting stuff!

Stupid is as Cochise does...

2008-01-29T11:34:00.000-07:00

Family housing had our once-a-semester hall meeting last night. What a complete and ridiculous waste of time. As Jen and I drove to Tucson with the Lymans this past Saturday, we had a conversation about what we'd like to discuss at the meeting on Monday. We jotted down about 5 items we felt were important so we'd be sure to remember them. Last night, as soon as the meeting started, the assistant director asked us if we had anything we wanted to bring up. As soon as I told him and the director we had a list of items, they both visibly shut down. Then they proceeded to shoot down every single one of our issues (except that they're going to try to bring back Nickelodeon). And it wasn't that they politely addressed the issues we raised. Instead, they got downright rude. For instance, I brought up the fact that we weren't comfortable putting our stuff in a maintenance storage area where the maintenance workers would have access to it, and we wouldn't be able to get to it without someone unlocking the door for us. I asked if they could do any better for us, and the assistant director's response was, "You're not getting a key." The problem with that answer is that 1) I never asked for a key, and 2) it almost completely failed to address the real issue at hand. Then, when we had exhausted our list of issues, they told us they had nothing else to discuss with us, and they dismissed us. The big question that all of this raises is, if they're not open to discussing our problems or suggestions, and they don't have anything of their own to talk to us about, then why even call a meeting in the first place? But yet, that's how so many things at Cochise College are done. I'm reminded of little kids playing grown-ups. They act out those motions and actions they see adults doing, but they don't really understand the significance of those actions a lot of the time. In the same way, the leadership at this college tries to go through the motions they see competent people performing, but they have no idea what those motions are supposed to accomplish:

"Hey, we should have a hall meeting with the family housing students."

"Why?"

"Umm... because that's what you're supposed to do at a college."

"Do you have anything you need to address with the family housing students?"

"Nope. But I know you're supposed to have hall meetings at a college. That's just the way it is."

"That's a really good point. Let's have a hall meeting!"

2008-01-27T09:52:00.000-07:00

Jenny recently tagged me to share my version of our story. Then she proceeded to get a little upset with me when I didn't promptly do what she had requested. I already explained to her why I haven't done so, but I'll go ahead and share my reasons with the rest of you. The first reason is that Jenny pretty well covered all the bases with her version, and I would feel painfully unoriginal if I sat here and copied what she'd already written. The second reason is that I wasn't in a very good place, spiritually, when we first met, and I don't really like to dwell on those memories because they tend to be extremely useful by Satan in discouraging me. So now you know. If you want the "authoritative" version of how Josh and Jenny LaBo became Josh and Jenny LaBo, please refer to Jenny LaBo's blog.

A Note To Those Who Comment Anonymously

2008-01-11T12:01:00.000-07:00

While, like most bloggers, I really appreciate it when people take the time to post comments on my posts, it does tend to bother me a little when people choose not to identify themselves in said comments. Though not normally a problem for me, this did happen recently, and I found it troubling mostly in that I think I know the individual's identity (the writing style was extremely similar to someone I used to know) but I have no real way to be certain. Please don't do that; just put your name on it or identify yourself in some other equally clear way. I promise, unless you're unnecessarily mean or vulgar, that I won't delete your comment. Deal?

Monkey Wrench

2008-01-08T16:35:00.000-07:00

The other day I posted a sort of break-down of my plan for the remainder of my education here in Arizona. Naturally, one day after I wrote the post my circumstances changed, forcing me to reevaluate that plan. For me to obtain each of my pilot certificates and ratings, I have to take a ground training class as well as go through the necessary flight training. I was supposed to take flight instructor ground training last semester, but it was cancelled due to lack of interest (my interest unfortunately wasn't sufficient to keep the class on the fall schedule). I was assured before Christmas break, though, that ground training would definitely happen this spring. I would finish ground training this spring and work on the flight training this fall, thus enabling me to begin my maintenance training next spring. Here's the wrinkle in that plan: flight instructor ground training just got cancelled again because, just like last semester, I was the only person who registered for it. So now I have a decision to pray about and eventually make. I can either take flight instructor ground training next semester (because, once again, I've been assured they'll definitely run it next semester) along with the requisite flight training. The other option is to just forget about my flight instructor certificate for now, finish instrument and commercial this semester, and start on maintenance next semester, with the possibility of picking up my instructor cert when I'm done becoming a mechanic. The bottom line is that MAF only requires me to have my instrument and commercial. They recommend the flight instructor certificate, but they don't require it. I know which way I'd like to go with this decision, but I don't want to be hasty in making it. I want to really take some time to seek God's will. My plans just don't ever seem to work, and His always do. Anyway, that's the newest update from this tired, dusty corner of the world.

In reply...

2008-01-06T18:53:00.000-07:00

Since a Norwegian brother recently posted a comment asking me where I was at in my training, I decided to write a short post about it, for him and for whomever else might be interested. Before I can apply to Mission Aviation Fellowship, I need both pilot certification and maintenance (or mechanic) certification. Cochise College does offer both programs of study, so I'll be able to sort of kill two birds with one stone, but I've been warned that trying to tackle both areas at once can lead to some disastrous consequences. That being the case, I decided to work on my pilot certificates first. As of right now, I've earned my private pilot certificate and I'm working on both my commercial certificate and my instrument rating. The college breaks the commercial certificate into 3 phases. I've already finished phase 1, and will likely finish phases 2 and 3 before summer. I have one instrument cross-country flight and two oral/flight exams to finish, and I'll have my instrument rating. Next fall, I'll be working on my flight instructor certificate. If all goes well, I'll have it by next Christmas, and then I'll start working on the maintenance program, which lasts 15 months. All together, that seems like a really long time to be a student, but I've already been more or less assured that I can be a part-time flight instructor for the college while I work on my maintenance certification. That will enable me to make some money and maybe pay some debt, and also log some addition flight hours before I apply to MAF. And that ain't too bad. So now you know, Anders (and whoever else didn't know but wanted to).

Back By Popular Demand

2008-01-03T10:28:00.000-07:00

While we were in Michigan for Christmas, I heard from more than one person that I apparently don't update as often as they'd like. Since my long, miserable fall semester is finally over and done with, I suppose I'm out of excuses for my infrequent posts. So here we go.

Jen and I just got back from Michigan 2 days ago, after having spent 2 weeks with our families. Despite having really looked forward to our trip, I found myself a little disappointed by the experience. I couldn't reach any of my friends, except one, to see if they'd be in town and available for hanging out. I never got a chance to eat a delicious sub from Intermission Deli in Bay City (if you ever get there, try the #18). I spent the entire second week of our trip sick (which severely impaired my ability to sleep at night). I had a really bad eczema flare-up on my left hand while we were in Deckerville (though that did indirectly give me a chance to spend an afternoon with my dad, so it wasn't all bad). And we had a really interesting trip back home, but that really deserves its own paragraph, so...

Our original plan was to spend New Years Eve night in Saginaw with Kara, then leave for Detroit at about 3:00 in the morning to return our rental car and make our 6:50 flight to Chicago. That afternoon, however, we were informed that parts of Michigan, including Detroit, were forecast to get hit with near-blizzard conditions in the night. In order to make life as easy for us as possible, my parents drove with us to Detroit that evening and got us a hotel room a couple miles from the airport, which was a tremendous thing to do. The next morning, we took a shuttle from the hotel to the airport and everything went fine. We got to Chicago with no problems, enjoyed breakfast at McDonald's, and settled in to wait for our flight to Tucson. That's where things started to fall apart. The plane that departed our gate before us got stuck at the gate waiting to be de-iced, which led to our flight boarding about an hour after our original departure time. Then we had to sit on the plane and wait to be de-iced, ourselves. Then we taxied just about all the way to the runway, and our captain came on the comm to inform us we had to taxi back to the gate to let off one of our passengers. When we got back to the gate, two stern-looking older gentlemen boarded the plane and walked to the back. I was in the aisle seat, so I got to see their I.D.s; they were American Airlines officials. They got to the back of the plane and, a moment later, began leading some guy to the door. As the guy started walking, though, he apparently decided he had way too much freedom, so he said, quite loudly, "It's okay. I'm not a terrorist. You folks enjoy your flight. There's no terrorists on this flight." We found out later that the guy had passed out drunk right after boarding, and the flight attendants had been unable to wake him to put his seat back up for takeoff. Had he kept his mouth shut, he probably would have been A-okay. As it is, I'm sure he probably wound up having a spirited chat with the TSA or somebody for his comments. After that, the flight attendants were required by federal regulations to repeat the entire safety demonstration, since the cabin door had been opened. After that, we taxied back to the runway and finally took off-- about 2.5 hours after our original departure time. We made it to Tucson with no further episodes or incidents and the worst seemed to be behind us... until we got to the baggage claim. Two of our bags came through with no problem, and we were waiting for my duffel bag. Suddenly, it came around the corner, but it didn't look right. Jen figured it out before I did, and said, "Your bag's in a bucket." For those who don't know, if your bag is damaged or destroyed in transit, the handlers will helpfully put it in a sort of plastic tub before tossing it onto the conveyor belt, in order to keep your possessions from spilling out. When the tub finally got to where we were waiting, we discovered that the stitches on one end had completely given out, thus exposing the contents of my bag. Fortunately, I'd packed it so tightly that everything was holding together in a miniature wall of laundry and books. Also fortunately, that was the end of our problems on our trip home.

We took a bunch of pictures on our trip, which I'm sure Jen will post in some form before too long. Be sure to look for those. In the meantime, I hope everyone was satisfied by this unnecessarily long post. If I remember, I'll try to post again sometime before February.

Pulse

2007-12-16T19:54:00.001-07:00

In 13 hours, I'll be sitting in a classrom, getting ready to take my last final of the semester. In 24 hours, Jen and I will be leaving AWANA to come home and try to sleep a little before our 3am drive to Tucson. In 34 hours, we'll be on a plane, getting ready to take off, bound for our connection at Dallas Fort Worth. Assuming no delays, in 40 hours, we'll be getting situated in our rental car, about to drive to Linwood by way of Saginaw. This time has arrived much too slow and much too fast.

Finally!

2007-12-07T10:07:00.000-07:00

Jenny gets back from her conference today! I'm so excited to see her and hug her and kiss her and... well, I should go now.

Health is in the eye of the beholder.

2007-11-29T09:17:00.000-07:00

It's Thursday today, one week exactly since Thanksgiving. However, it's also one week exactly since I last felt good physically. I started having sinus/cold-type symptoms last Friday, after our brief early-morning shopping venture (see Jenny's blog), which then mutated into the most bizarre progression of symptoms I've ever experienced. Friday was congestion and sniffles. When I woke up Saturday morning, I had one of the worst headaches of my life, but the sniffles were gone. I spent the entire day trying unsuccessfully to shake the headache. When I wok up Sunday morning, my headache was gone, but I was having stomach cramps. By Sunday evening, my stomach cramps had somehow multiplied and moved into my shoulders, so I was having alternating stomach and shoulder cramps. BAD shoulder cramps. When I woke up Monday morning, my shoulder cramps were gone but I started having really bad stomach problems. Tuesday morning found me feeling substantially better, but still aware something wasn't right with my insides. And, finally, yesterday I went to the doctor (well, nurse practitioner) and got my diagnosis and cure. Unfortunately, she opted not to try and figure out all the previous symptoms, and focused on simply finding a solution to my stomach troubles. I would've really liked to know how someone finds himself the victim of such a weird and seemingly-random list of maladies, especially when those maladies caused me to miss an entire week of flight training and all but one day of work. Today's Thursday, and while I'm starting to feel better again, my treatment regiment the FNP put me on has left me feeling exhausted and weak. In fact, I'm done typing now, because the concentration is too much for me.

Eye of the Storm

2007-11-16T21:38:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned in my last post, I was starting to come apart under the stress that's recently entered my life. Well, in what I now know was a pretty wise act of self-preservation, I asked Sally (my sort-of boss) for some time off work, and she graciously gave it to me. I didn't work Wednesday or Thursday, and I certainly didn't help wash an airplane this morning. Instead, I've been spending the time alternately unwinding and studying, and it's worked wonders for my stress level. My original plan had me back at work on Monday, but Sally keeps telling me I'm more than welcome to take more time if I need it. We'll see where things are at on Monday morning before I make a definite decision. We can always use the extra bit of money my job brings in, but my instrument rating has to have top priority in my life right now. So, we'll see. Thanks, you guys, for praying for me. I'm feeling MUCH better mentally.

The Death of Me

2007-11-13T21:13:00.000-07:00

Instrument is taking its toll on me in a very dramatic way. The stress I've been feeling is really starting to manifest itself in my daily life, and I don't know what to do about it. It seems like this is just going to loom over me until I've finally passed the Instrument practical test. I guess I'm asking for prayer, because I truly don't know how to keep going until this is over.

This here's a little something I like to call "Western Civilization the Cochise Way"

2007-11-11T16:31:00.000-07:00

Today, class, my talk’s on the dawn of the world,
And the lifestyle of primitive man.
And I think, when I’m done, you’ll probably see
Just how full of bologna I am.

Now the topic, though based in historical fact,
Must be broached by my making a case
For the thought that our forebears were probably joined
By little grey people from space.

That’s right: guests from the cosmos most likely came down
And established Atlantis to serve
As a center of knowledge for primitive man.
You just have to admire my verve,

For I boldly assert that Atlantians taught
Our ancient ancestors to build
All the pyramids and wonders in history books,
Just before the Atlantians were killed

By a nuclear meltdown or maybe a bomb
That went off on their small continent.
‘Cause their alien science was better than ours.
It was meant for mankind’s betterment.

As the Epic of Gilgamesh so clearly states
The Mesopotamians had flown
In space-alien airplanes transparent and round
Unlike any today’s world has known.

But after the blast that wiped out their home,
The Atlantians prob’ly had traveled
To Egypt, along with their wondrous know-how.
Now the mysteries of time are unraveled.

Those pyramids out on the hot desert sands
Weren’t really the tombs of dead kings.
In fact, they were for fueling Atlantian ships
And some other incredible things.

So you see, class, our history lessons are much
Like the scripts from that show, The X-Files.
You’re dismissed now. Hey, wait! I’d just like to know
Why you’re wearing those cynical smiles.

Madness

2007-11-10T22:33:00.000-07:00

Have you heard about this new movement to make Santa Claus be skinny in order to set kids a better example? Am I alone, or are you shaking your head at it, too? I can't speak for anyone else, but I'm fat. I'm a big fat guy. I jiggle when I walk. Heck, I jiggle when I breathe. I've been a fatty since I was in the third grade. Coincidentally, I also believed in Santa when I was in the third grade. I absolutely must make it clear, however, that Santa's weight had no bearing whatsoever on my choosing the lardy lifestyle. I never, ever said to myself, "Boy, oh boy, wouldn't it just be swell if I could be a big fat guy like Santa." In reality, there were three main factors that influenced my decision to be corpulent, and none of them was Santa. Rather, they were, in no particular order, pastry, fast food, and candy. Don't get me wrong; I always liked Santa, but only because he bought my affection. I was a big fan of his generosity, but I can't say I ever admired (or even cared about) his weight. If I ever wanted to be Santa, it was only so I could have unlimited access to that ultra-sweet toy factory. The fact that there are people out there who honestly believe Santa's weight is a factor in the obesity of the grade school crowd, is just a little bit beyond ridiculous. I'll even go one step further and point this out: When overweight folks see a bunch of lean, sexy, beautiful people in the media, we're not motivated to slim down; we're only encouraged to feel bad about ourselves. Those images are simply fuel for the already-brilliantly-blazing self-hatred deep within us. And when we see a skinny person who USED TO BE fat, it's so much worse. If the idiots spearheading this movement are successful, they're only going to give chubby kids one more reason to feel not-good-enough. That being the case, it can only be concluded that Santa already IS a positive example for kids, because he's jolly and bright and kind, despite being morbidly obese. Those who think he needs to shed some pounds have obviously been duped into believing looks are the most important thing in life. And so, I'm forced to say, "Shame on you, America. You just keep getting dumber and dumber."

How to Ruin an Afternoon

2007-11-04T20:01:00.000-07:00

Step One: Be a hardcore perfectionist.

Step Two: Attempt to plan an IFR cross-country that's well beyond what you've been taught, because you're required to.

Step Three: Finish the planning to the best of your meager abilities, knowing it's not right.

Step Four: Let it really eat away at you that your planning isn't right and there's nothing you can do to improve it.

Step Five: Allow the thought that you purposely took a zero on a term paper, to seep into your already-troubled mind and bother you even more.

Step Six: Go upstairs, put on some old James Taylor music and silently fume, while your spouse and friends are eating cake (in honor of your birthday) and ice cream, and playing games downstairs.

2007-11-04T09:44:00.000-07:00

It's been some kinda weekend so far. I was supposed to write two papers this weekend, one for Creative Writing and one for Western Civ. And this is where I had to start making some tough decisions. My priority here MUST be aviation. If that gets lost in the shuffle, then we really need to wonder why we're still here. My practical test for my Instrument Rating is coming up in the next month or so, and it includes a 3 1/2 hour oral exam, so I really need to be reading and studying. Writing 2 papers really eats up study time... you can see where this is going. After crunching some numbers Friday morning, I determined that if I took a zero on the Creative Writing paper, I would still have an 85% in the class, with 3 more units and a final project to boost that grade into an A. So I resigned myself to taking the zero. Unfortunately, the Civ paper is worth about 20% of my total grade for the class, so I had to write it. That's not to say, though, that I had to write an award-winning masterpiece. I sat down at my computer and, in less than 2 hours, hammered out a four-page clunker. Again, I don't need 100% on the paper; my current grade is good enough that it can easily survive any grade, other than a zero. And so, having dealt with my papers by early Friday afternoon, I spent a big chunk of yesterday reading the instrument procedures section of the AIM (Aeronautical Information Manual). That's not to say I finished the section (it's pretty involved reading), but I'm a lot closer to the end than I was before the weekend started. After church today, I have to plan an IFR (Instrument Flight Rules) cross-country to Casa Grande, so Belinda can be sure I know how to do it. I have 3 cross-countries to fly before I take my practical, so it's important that I get the planning skills down ASAP. And now I have to go get ready for church.

What follows is a true story, written for a creative writing exercise, posted at Jen's suggestion.

2007-10-28T17:59:00.000-07:00

It was an otherwise-ordinary evening in the summer of 2001, when I learned a very important life lesson. My roommate, Josh, and I, along with our friend, Bobbi, had decided to go out for dinner. After an unnecessarily lengthy and, at times, heated discussion, we finally decided on Applebee’s. Josh and I were both craving their all-you-can-eat riblets. All through my teen years, I never tried drugs or did any of those other foolish activities normally associated with peer pressure. Short of those extremes, though, I’d never had a problem with doing something silly or weird at the urging of my friends. This night, though, my questionable standards would lead me to ruin.

Our trio arrived at Applebee’s and, as was expected, Josh and I both ordered the riblets, while Bobbi ordered chicken fingers. Josh tended to be a little bit competitive, which I knew well and which is normal for young men in their early twenties. However, I foolishly failed to take this fact into account when I placed my order. Our food soon arrived, and we began eating. After Josh and I had both finished our first platter of riblets, our waitress promptly brought us each a second helping. We finished these in due time and entered into a brief discussion on whether or not we felt up to having thirds. This was where Josh’s competitive nature reared its ugly head. Convinced we couldn’t wimp out at seconds, Josh talked me into one more round of riblets, though I admit I didn’t need much persuasion.

Our waitress arrived a few minutes later to take away our bone-laden plates, and inquired as to whether we’d be needing even more riblets. Josh decided he’d had enough. Unfortunately, he also decided I needed to keep eating. I looked to Bobbi to be the voice of reason but, having finished her chicken fingers, she was in the mood to be entertained and decided to argue Josh’s case, instead. The two of them convinced me I should try for five orders of riblets, to which I finally acquiesced, though I honestly wasn’t sure I could succeed. You know, looking back, there’s really something to be said for the human body’s capacity to ingest ridiculous quantities of meat. Thanks to the events of the evening in question, I now know that the whole thing eventually becomes almost exactly like shoving marshmallows into a tube sock. You can just keep shoving and shoving. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Our waitress reappeared and handed me serving number four. After finishing this plate of riblets, I was pretty sure I was ready to quit. My stomach was uncomfortably full, and I was just a little bit afraid of embarrassing myself by puking in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Once more consulting Josh and Bobbi, my so-called friends, I found myself grudgingly requesting a fifth helping of pork. A moment later, I found myself just as grudgingly eating said pork.

As I set down the final bone, thus marking my victory over five plates of sauce-laden riblets, relief welled up within me. I’d done it! I’d gotten the better of a disgusting amount of meat! Feeling like a hero in my own right, I turned to my friends with a smug smile. It’s to my eternal shame that I confess, now, my smile was short-lived. Unimpressed with my accomplishment, Josh and Bobbi decided that I needed to go for ten, and that they needed some dessert. Placing our respective orders with our long-suffering waitress, I silently promised myself I would stop after my sixth order of riblets.

It turns out I lied to myself in that moment, because our waitress soon brought out the seventh order. As she set the plate down, she said, “I told my manager about what you’re doing, and he says if you can eat ten orders of riblets, he’ll give you a free dessert. But you have to eat it in the restaurant.” Giving her the look such an idiotic suggestion deserved, I resignedly started in on the plate of meat.

It should be said that, by this point, I was painfully aware of how out-of-hand the situation had become, but that I felt powerless to stop it. It had started as a joke, an easy way of giving my friends something to laugh about. Then the management of the restaurant had gotten involved. All I could do now was push on to number ten, then go home and die from meat poisoning or some other fitting consequence of so absurd a prank.

When my tenth and final order of riblets arrived at our table, the aforementioned manager came with it. He shook my hand (I’m not kidding), then said, “I talked to our cook, and he tells me you’ll have eaten about 64 ounces of meat when you finish this order. Did your waitress tell you about my offer?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “But there’s no way I’m going to want dessert after this.”

Being a generous and good-natured fellow, he made a new offer. “Okay, if you finish this order of riblets, I’ll give your friends a free dessert to split.” It seemed a fine idea, except my friends had already each eaten a dessert of their own. I informed him of this and, after a moment’s careful consideration, he said, “Okay, I’ll take their desserts off the check if you finish this order.” As you can imagine, at this point my friends became even more persuasive in their urging. Watching their fat friend eat an almost supernatural amount of meat had been good enough for them, but now they were faced with the prospect of each saving five dollars on the check.

Suffice it to say, I finished that tenth order of riblets, and the manager was as good as his word: my friends did get their desserts taken off the check. As I squirmed in my seat on the drive home from Applebee’s, wishing unsuccessfully for a swift and merciful death, I was forced to acknowledge that I’d learned a very important life lesson: Giving in to peer pressure is always a bad idea.

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2007-10-25T22:14:00.000-07:00

This is my favorite picture from our weekend away. Incidentally, it's also going to be my new profile picture. I'm just full of changes tonite.