I can fly, I can fly, I can fly!

But only in Cessna 172s. Still, I can fly! Yaay! All by myself, too! Isn't that cool? I think it's cool. I'm hoping to take a big trip this weekend, too, though I don't know whether the weather will hold.

No other news to report.

Smitty Happy

Smitty very happy.

Smitty flew today.

Yaay!

It was only a half-hour of flight time, nothing big, but we flew around the area a little, I got used to the traffic pattern again. Only got one landing, so I'm going up again tomorrow with an instructor to beat up the pattern; once I get a few nice landings in we'll call it a day and I'll be signed off to fly Cessna 172s and similar things (things like Cessna 152s, and 182s, and Piper Arrows and Cherokees and such). I may try to get a plane again for Friday, but maybe not.

But still! I flew! It was great! I mean, it was odd--I'm used to a really large airplane. This little Cessna, it climbs so slowly, and it's so easily buffeted by wind gusts. And it turns on a dime, it's amazing. I forgot what this kind of flying felt like.

I can't wait to go back tomorrow!

Perpetuum Miserere

You know, I really hate those blogs by whining depressed teenage girls that just go on and on about how horrible their lives are. And I don't want this to turn into something like that. But this has been a rather dismal day, and it hasn't been much of a week, either. I'll spare the litany and try to make light of a few things.

So, I went to the physical therapist on Monday. Today I hurt worse than ever. At least I have some muscle relaxers that don't immediately put me to sleep, but I've grown concerned about whether things are really getting any better, as I'm inclined to think they're not.

Despite the increased pain I've been trying desperately to fly this week. I scheduled three flights for the week, for Monday, Tuesday, and Friday, before I pick up the airplane on Saturday to fly north for a bachelor party.
Monday I went to the airport and the instructor didn't show up. Okay, no problem. I figured I could wait until Tuesday. I came home and fell asleep with my face in the crossword book on the living room floor. I don't think it's healthy to spend so much time lying on the living room floor.
I was looking forward to today's flight that much more, because yesterday's didn't go. I met the instructor yesterday, we were going to do a bienniel review--although I got hold of some of my flight records today that will probably eliminate the need for that review--and he was confident we could get the whole matter finished in an hour. Then I could fly again Thursday and be ready to go for the weekend.

And of course today I had to call the airport and cancel the flight. Weird set of circumstances. I could attempt to explain but it would be, oh, five, six pages worth of jargon, so I'll spare you. What happened was, at the very last possible minute (today) I discovered that we were sending out an individual on deployment, to fill a deployment line we don't actually have. It's at another squadron at another base.

I can fix problems like this. It isn't really hard to do. But we're trying to send the guy out tomorrow. I can't necessarily fix things like this in 24 hours. I've done it before (I am, after all, a minor deity of Mobility), but then that time I wasn't trying to leave work at 2'30 to go to the airport. I had to cancel the flight so I could make sure there wouldn't be any unpleasant surprises tomorrow (as there often are).

Get this though. It's my boss's fault. He said so himself and I totally agree. He shook hands with the squadron commander at the other base and agreed that we'd fill the other squadron's line this month if they'd fill one of our lines in August. No problem. The real world can work on handshakes, but the Air Force is in no way the real world. We occasionally bomb the real world, but that's about it. A handshake, you see, is agreement between two people. But in the Air Force it takes at least ten people to get anything done. This means 4/5 of the required people have no idea what's happening. This is actually so common in the military we created the word 'snafu' to describe it.

As I said, this particular snafu is entirely my boss's fault, and he said so. And I had to cancel a flight I was really looking forward to (I managed to get one for tomorrow). And I was in pain the entire time. So I should hate my boss right now, right? But I don't. Normally I would; I don't care for authority and generally dislike most authority figures, if not immediately then eventually. That has not happened with this boss in almost a year, and given that I'd been in a sour mood for quite some time when today's little fiasco cropped up, if this didn't turn me against him then I can't imagine anything will. This is such an unusual situation for me it's creepy. I mean, I'm actually a little scared.

Yes, it's just another day here in Smitty's World. Interesting things also happened in the World Outside (the Hamdan trial, primarily), but I just feel like wallowing in self pity. And, you know, watching American Idol...

How Krazy is Krazy Kat?

She's stopped talking to her advisers, who are leaving her campaign in droves.

She's stopped talking to Florida media, preferring to make all her announcements on national cable news shows.

She announced plans to put "everything on the line" in her campaign, her entire inheritence from her father... except it turned out later she didn't actually have access to any of her father's money yet.

She's started quoting scripture on television.

She now says that "she's doing God's work" with her campaign (I wonder if the Almighty is pleased).

Now is word that she's finding new campaign staffers, because she wants to find people who are "really committed" to her. (This is the same, and only, critera George Bush uses to pick his staffers.)

Normally I don't make light of other peoples' religious views unless they're Scientologists, so I don't want this comment to seem that way, but... Harris seems to be putting a lot of stock--no, sorry, all her stock--in the notion that while it may seem impossible for us to see Krazy Kat winning this Senate race, she's doing "God's work" in the campaign and God doesn't see it as impossible.

But I wonder: does God want an unstable lunatic in the U.S. Senate? I'm just spitballing here, but maybe part of the reason Krazy Kat's campaign is doing so poorly is because, you know, God's already had a hand in things?

Just Plain Dull

First of all, why 50's week? Please, for the love of God, how about a week where all of the contestants have to sing songs written during their lifetimes? Or songs that weren't Top 40 material the year their parents graduated from 1st grade? I was just plain bored tonight; this is the problem with American Idol--we still have 11 contestants. Eleven? Isn't that a little overboard? If the producers can't give us some decent themes and the performers can't, you know, perform... it's just not worth it.

So let's just go ahead and get rid of a bunch of people. Ace: sings through his nose, falsetto is consistently out of tune. Kevin: horrifying lack of talent and dreadful personality. Kellie: give me a freaking break, people. Let's lose her already. Chris: obviously one of the best performers, needs to quit and join Fuel or get signed to a record contract already and leave the contest to people who'll benefit from the continued exposure. Lisa: has talent, but isn't interesting. Lose her.

See? That wasn't so hard? Now we're down to six, enough for a one-hour program, and we've eliminated the four worst performers and Chris, who has outgrown the show. Am I right people? Let's move this along.

At Least It's Free

Although, free or not, I'm probably not going to use it.

I went to my doctor today, during sick call, to get a referral to the physical therapy clinic so I can sit down. Hey, guess what? The first appointment available is on April 5.

Ahem. The first appointment is over two weeks from now. Hello? I'm lying on my stomach in the living room? Little help?

That's exactly what you get here, little help. So it looks like, once again, I'll be finding a medical specialist out in the wider Tampa world rather than using the free health care on base. Awesome customer service.

In fairness, this is not at all the therapists' fault--there are simply way too many people in this area trying to use the hospital's services, and not nearly enough doctors, nurses, technicians, or space at our hospital. Tampa has tens of thousands of retired military folks, because it's a nice place to live and there's a great VA hospital network here, and the base with its commissary and all that. But... I don't know, it seems like an active duty person who's capacity to perform his job is hindered by his condition would, you know, move up the priority ladder a little. Maybe I don't understand the system. Maybe the system's broken. Could be either one.

In any event, if anyone, anyone at all, knows a good physical therapy clinic in Tampa, please write a comment, for the love of God.

Polemic

You thought I'd got the tree bit out of my system with that post of 100 trees. Ha!

I now have 127 trees on the list, though I did add in the native palms, which aren't much for shade. I also made some notes based on the University of Florida's Horticulture Deptartment's Tree Fact sheets.

I just had the strongest sense of deja vu, while writing that sentence...

Anyway, as UF is the state's main agricultural extension university the horticulture department discusses many facets of arboriculture in great detail, and goes so far as to make recommendations about trees that should be planted more. Among the trees so designated are the American Hornbeam and Redbay, which I recommended in the comments to the earlier post. Golly gee, it's neat when experts agree with you. (They also like the Hophornbeam, one of my all-time favorite trees.)

However, I'll save the list of recommended trees for another day. Today I wanted to suggest trees that should be planted instead of the hideous Stinking Pear Tree, or Bradford Pear as it is sometimes known (technically the Callery Pear). Aside from their floral stench (it's been compared to rotting meat, and more poetically to "dead fish in a dishwasher" (thank you, Port Tampa). But it is rather pretty. To bad it's not a good tree, according to UF: "...as 'Bradford' and some of the other cultivars approach 20 years old, they begin to fall apart in ice and wind storms due to inferior tight branch structure." (UF, surprisingly, does not mention the odor of Bradford Pears, though the Clemson University factsheet on the tree does.) Also, the things are native to China, and the last thing we need right now is more Chinese imports.

Forthwith, a selection of twelve flowering trees native to Florida! These are not my pictures; click the photo for a link to the site where I found it. I'd love to use my own pictures but all these trees could stand to be planted more--if they were, I'd have taken my own photos.


1. Downy Serviceberry (Amelanchier arborea)


2. Tree Sparkleberry (Vaccinium arboreum)


3. Flatwoods Plum (Prunus umbellata)


4. Southern Crabapple (Malus angustifolia)


5. Eastern Redbud (Cercis canadensis)


6. Southern Catalpa (Catalpa bignonioides)


7. Red Buckeye (Aesculus pavia)


8. Sourwood (Oxydendrum arboreum)


9. Carolina Silverbell (Halesia carolina)


10. American Smoketree (Cotinus obovatus)


11. Fringetree (Chionanthus virginicus)


12. Rusty Blackhaw (Viburnum rufidulum)

Now I'll admit these trees may not be as showy as the Chinese Stinking Pear, but they are native, and most of them have wonderful fragrances. Many of them have showy fruits that last into the autumn and winter, an added bonus.

Laid Out

I am writing to you today splayed on the floor in the living room on my stomach. I managed to throw my back out this weekend, and what with our unique paperwork-driven health care system in the military I can't get in to physical therapy until I go to my doctor, so I have to go to sick call tomorrow morning at 7'30 and sit in the waiting room. This will be amusing, since sitting for more than about a half hour really hurts.

It's all my parents' fault. It's their genes. My left hipbone is higher than my right hipbone, so my lower back is in a state of constant torsion. When I threw my back out the first time two and a half years ago, the therapist I saw expressed amazement that my back had adjusted to this so well. Apparently, though I sure can't prove it by looking in a mirror, my lower back muscles are much stronger on one side than the other from constantly trying to straighten out my spine. Lovely.

Every now and then I do something that causes my hips to pop and the one side moves about a quarter of an inch above the other side. This is what's happened now. It's wonderful, let me tell you. I can stand, as long as I walk. I can lie on my stomach or side. I can sit for a few minutes, longer if I put my right foot up under the other leg. And I can go to the doctor and ask him to send me to physical therapy so the therapist can reset my hips.

This is the most wonderful thing I've ever done, getting my hips reset. I had to recalibrate my pain scale to account for it. Of course a few minutes later it's all better and I can move around again. Still, that doesn't mean I'm especially looking forward to it.

Because I can't sit down for long I haven't been able to do anything. I was going to go fly yesterday afternoon but knew I'd be in pain the whole time and decided not to. I need to go flying, though, if I'm going to fly to the wedding, and dadgumit I'm going to fly to the wedding. Even if I have to cancel the Virginia students' weekend, I'm flying to the wedding. There's more, too--I was going to go to clay studio, but, uh... yeah, that means sitting down a lot. And I need to repot the carambola and key lime trees on the porch and plant some seeds (although I'd like to see the oak pollen decline a bit before I do that). Instead, I spent much of the day lying on the floor doing crossword puzzles. Hooray! Can't wait for tomorrow!

A New Angle on Patriotism

I don’t read USA Today, but sometimes an article from that paper shows up in the DOD’s Earlybird news aggregator. This morning there was an article by Rick Hampson about how the Iraq war, entering its third year next month, has affected folks on this side of the pond.

First of all, I don’t know any of these people:
“Jackie Sanders, a 58-year-old widow who works at the Wal-Mart in Prairie du Chien, Wis., notices “a general sense of foreboding. People cry easily. The tears are right there, all the time.”
Half of those interviewed in the latest USA TODAY/CNN/Gallup Poll say the war has made them cry, and almost nine in 10 say it has made them pray.”

However, I know lots of these people:
For most people, however, the war is no more than a yellow ribbon magnet on the back of a car, a killed-in-action bracelet, a photo in the paper or an image on the screen.

And too many of these people:
“We're programmed to be emotional or sympathetic to what we see on TV,” he says. “It's almost a call-and-response kind of thing. It's more talk than anything else. I don't see fistfights over the war. It's more about how I'm going to decorate my truck.”

But I don’t think I know enough of these people:
“We have the luxury of being over here, griping about how the war's going. That's not the reality for the people over there,” says Carol Lee of Thibodaux, La. Ornstil remembers growing up in Brooklyn during World War II seeing ration stamps and service stars in the windows of homes of families like hers, those with men at war.
“Now I think we should be more involved in sacrifice — less gas consumption,” she says. “But I don't see much effect here, except for a lot of strong feelings.”

Not that I think people should feel guilty all the time. But I think we’re missing a huge opportunity here. The environmentalists (like myself) could get together with the pro-patriotism crowd (people like myself), and we can start up a new campaign. Something along the lines of, “your gas-guzzler is unpatriotic! If you support the troops, buy a more efficient vehicle!” And since a lot of communities are powered with natural gas- or oil-fired power plants, we can say, “Support the troops by turning off the lights when you leave the room and setting your thermostat at 80 (or 68 depending on the season).”

I’m no marketing major, but I assume we could find one to craft a really excellent advertising campaign around that theme. This seems like a great idea to me. Let’s face it, gas prices haven’t forced people to abandon their SUVs and use public or alternative transportation yet (though us squishy liberal types had hoped they would). I think gas is going to have to get a lot more dear before it forces that; we’ll constrain other discretionary spending instead, and that’s not something we should do in an economy that’s 70% based on consumption. The only way we’re going to get people to reduce gasoline and energy use is through public shame and humiliation. The patriotism angle might be the best one to produce that sense of shame so lacking in modern society.