Life Is Such A Sweet Insanity.

Earl and I are sitting at a local pastry shop doing the thing one usually does at a Starbucks, except we are not drinking coffee and we don’t have a Starbucks within 45 miles of our home. Hence, we are sitting a locally owned establishment that has more pastries available than Panera. They also have a few more bugs in the display cases here but not to worry, the staff is so relaxed that they sip on their mocha-cocha-cha-cha-la-la whilst they’re taking your order. All that’s missing is a handlebar mustache.

As we were driving here, sitting at the randomly placed traffic signals, I noticed that two of our six of the drivers in front of me (at the various locations) were hesitant to make that all-too-scary Right On Red. Right On Red is a perfectly valid, permissible and legal turn to make in New York State, outside of the five boroughs of the Big Apple. Earl and I occasionally have a discussion about my observations of Right On Red hesitance; he reminds me that making that Right On Red turn is not mandatory, it’s completely up to the driver. I counter that Right On Red works no differently than a stop sign, and sitting at a red light, waiting to turn right for no other reason other than waiting for the light to turn green, is like sitting at a stop sign and waiting for it to dance.

Several years ago I overheard a co-worker telling another co-worker that she wasn’t going to let her daughter (who was learning to drive) make that all-too-scary Right On Red turn until she had her license. I had a silent yet demonstrative fit about this because this is counterintiutive to the learning process; when one is learning, one is building habits and confidence, and being essentially trained that Right On Red is something special and out-of-the-ordinary does neither to inspire confidence nor build good habits. It’s cowardice based on a perceived complication revolving around Right On Red and how scary it is.

A local community was recently Up In Arms about the fact that the Department of Transportation was looking to replace a traffic signal with a Roundabout. People came out in droves to protest the Roundabout, with the prevailing argument being that Roundabouts are scary and unfit for vehicle consumption. Someone should let the fine Ministries of Transportation throughout Europe know this, because European drivers seem to be able to navigate a Roundabout just fine and they even occasionally have to do it in the opposite direction of travel.

It really is a pity because as I become more proficient as a pilot, where you basically do everything as safely and as consistently as possible, I am finding that I have less and less tolerance toward the common motorist in the United States.

Maybe I need to become a driver’s license examiner or something.

It’s raining today here in Central New York. I should say that it’s raining again, because after an absolutely stunning weekend, it’s been raining a lot. And it isn’t even interesting rain. There’s no thunderstorms, no howls from the weather radio, no remarkable weather, just rain. The rain is suppose to continue through tomorrow.

The weather has me bummed, kind of like the “it’s the middle of February” bummed, but my mind is a little confused about this because after all, it’s the middle of June.

I think the weather blues are being compounded by sleep deprivation. Our fine furry feline friend has decided that nighttime is no longer the right time for humans to sleep. He is content to yowl at loud decibels at all hours after midnight and when he’s not yowling he is trying to sleep on my head. He is no longer content to sleep between Earl and me, he wants to be on my head.  As I am writing this blog entry, he is screaming at the door to go outside. I let him out and before I can make the three steps from the door to the chair, he is banging on the door to come back in. Perhaps he doesn’t like the rain. I know I don’t.

Always looking for the bright side of the situation, I should be happy that it’s raining this week because if the weather was beautiful I would be very frustrated by the fact that the airplane is grounded for maintenance this week. Here’s to hoping that the airplane gets finished and the weather clears up at the same time.

I told Earl this morning that I’m ready for an adventure of some sort. Normally I would do a little bit of retail therapy, but as I grow older I feign more responsibility, and retail therapy is not responsible right now.

I just need to see some sunshine.

On Saturday I went to the airport for our weekly safety meeting. I always find this enjoyable; I learn something both during the briefing and during the socializing with other pilots. Learning is good.

After the briefing I decided to go over to the hangar to check the status of the airplane; we were expecting some work to be done late last week and I wanted to see if it had been completed. I swiped my badge at the electronic checkpoint and pulled on the door to the big, corporate hangar. I couldn’t get in. As a sanity check, I tried again. The security mechanism was unlocking the door, but something else was holding the door in place. I figured there was a reason the door was locked and decided that I would try again on Sunday.

I went back on Sunday and had the same results, badge flashed affirmative, the door tried to unlock but something else was keeping the door locked. Perplexed, I went to the FBO (Fixed Base Operations) and asked the friendly woman at the desk why I couldn’t get to the airplane.

“There is a bunch of expensive equipment in the big hangar”, she replied with a smile on her face. When I asked as to how long we would be locked out, she told me that she didn’t know. There was something secret going on.

I convinced the nice person to have someone drive me across the flight line over to the airplane. On our way, I noticed a bunch of tents and such had been put up on the runway side of the buildings. Marines were working out in a makeshift workout area.

Later that day, I read that President Obama announced he would be coming to our area the following Thursday. He is going to the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown to tout the virtues of tourism in The Empire State.

At least I knew why the hangar was locked and why there were Marines working out on an Air Force Base that was decommissioned back in 1995.

On Monday a bunch of military jets and helicopters started doing drills around the area. Last night I decided it was a beautiful night to fly and I was going to snag the opportunity to do some practice landings. I knew I’d have a few more folks than usual as an audience, but I didn’t care because after all, flying is awesome. I went to the airport and used my badge to get through an alternate entrance. When I got to the hangar I found that there would be absolutely no way for me to get the airplane out and where I needed it to be without creating a whole lot of ruckus. There were a half dozen or so trucks parked directly in front of the hangar with twice as many Marines doing things to the trucks. They were measuring the distance from the bottom of the trucks to the ground, the width of the trucks and they were moving gear around. Off to the side were three large helicopters that I mentally dubbed “Marine One”, “Marine Two” and “Marine Three”. A C-17 was landing and a C-130 was in the pattern. Had I worked up the nerve to move this armada out of the way so I could get our Piper Cherokee out of the hangar, I would have been very busy and probably close to my distraction limit in relation to where I currently am as a student pilot. I can safely fly an airplane. Heck, I can even safely land an airplane, but as I’m still converting “routine” to “instinct”, sometimes I have to think an extra second and when you have a C-130 on your tail trying to land behind you, you don’t want distractions.

Since the Marines outnumbered me at over 12 to 1, I decided that I would forgo the opportunity to fly. This pissed me off beyond belief but I just knew that it was the responsible thing to do. I walked up to the hangar and closed the door that had been left open for me by another pilot. I made myself look official by doing a walk around and getting into the airplane and looking at the flight logs, just to show the Marines that I was a real airplane owner. I also made sure my flight line badge was prominently displayed at all times. After I closed the door and made my way to the gate, I nodded in the direction of the Marines and wished them all a good night. I was pleasant but I was pissed. The hangar that is all locked up has one door facing the driveway which sported the addition of a “No Cameras Allowed” sign smack in the middle of the window. I took a brief moment to take a gander inside. It was all very presidential in there.

The long and the short of it is this: President Obama better be making some sort of golden speech tomorrow because he’s kept me from flying this week and more importantly, judging by the amount of work and people involved with the preparation for these proceedings, this is costing the taxpayers a big chunk of change and honestly, I can think of quite a few better things to do with the money right now.

On the bright side, there’s a really good chance that Air Force One is going to fly over the house tomorrow and you can bet your sweet bippy that I’m going to grab a photo of that.