Mist.

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So I just called the flight service on my own for the first time to get a weather outlook for tomorrow afternoon. The club plane will be back from its maintenance and it’s time to get back in the air, except Mother Nature is not going to be cooperating.

Right now they are predicting light freezing drizzle, snow and overcast with 1200′ ceiling, not exactly good conditions for piloting a small plane, let alone a student piloting a small plane.

Looks like I’ll be watching more videos of other people flying in nicer weather. I wonder if I can telecommute from somewhere balmy or something.

Facebook.

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The other day I told Earl that I was seriously questioning the value that being on Facebook brings to my life. On one hand, connecting to friends and family through Facebook allows me to connect to those I haven’t seen in a really long time and/or with those that live quite a ways away. In that regard, I think Facebook is great. However, outside of that, I’m finding Facebook to be a study in frustration lately.

First of all, why can’t I just look at my timeline in chronological order from newest to oldest. If I wanted to be part of a popularity contest I’d run in one of the many gay-themed contests that are available to the today’s homosexual or I’d go back to high school and sit at the corner table in the lunch room. It’s not my bag.

Yesterday a local friend commented that someone she is “friends” (her quotes, not mine) with on Facebook didn’t recognize her in real life and from what I remember, kind of ignored her. Well that’s not really being friendly, in my opinion. She commented that she’s going to need to weed out her friends list again and of course I shared my two cents on the subject: “if you can’t hug them, don’t friend them.” I came up with that at that moment. I’m deep like that.

I know tons of people that use Facebook to make friends. They seek out likeminded individuals and friend them, with hopes of making a connection someday. I’ve made several friends on Facebook over the years, however, I usually “friend” someone on Facebook after I’ve met them some other way, even if it’s through some other social network like Twitter or a message board or something. Generally, my rule is I won’t friend someone unless I’ve met them In Real Life or I plan on meeting them in the relatively near future (say, within the next year). And my rule, despite my use of salty language from time to time, is that I use Facebook for content that is PG-13 at the max. There are plenty of other sites for R and above, there’s no need to mingle that sort of thing with pictures of your Aunt Matilda. I friend people on Facebook because I genuinely like them or at one time I thought I liked them.

Over the past several months I’ve tried to follow some of the interest groups on Facebook: road geek stuff, maybe some gay bear stuff, etc., but I’m finding that those boards remind me way too much of the old America Online days when everything was inside of the AOL framework. I like the idea of information being free and I believe that discussions such as politics or the merits of the shape of a route marker or whether celebrity X looks better with or without facial hair belongs in a forum where everyone has access, not just to the folks that have jumped on the Facebook train. So last week I gave up on the discussion areas. I might browse a political discussion once in a while or I might “like” a subject, but I’m much more comfortable on the message boards geared for these topics. On those boards I might make friends that I would want to meet in real life, then we’d end up as friends on Facebook. That’s how I see the workflow working best for me.

I’ve been weeding out a few extraneous friend connections on Facebook on a daily basis over the past week or so and I’ll probably continue to do so through the end of the year. A while back Earl and I joined a group of guys for drinks and I introduced myself to one of the others in the party, who had absolutely no recognition of me whatsoever. He didn’t know who I was with, who I was, where I was or anything. Quite frankly he was a little standoffish. I was in my usually friendly sorts as I tried to strike up a conversation and I mentioned to him, “oh, I saw on Facebook that you’re thinking about changing careers.”

“How do you see my Facebook feed? It’s private!”. He seemed shocked.

“Uh, we’ve been friends on Facebook for several months now”, I stammered.

“Oh”. He went back to his air of quasi-disinterest. The conversational void must have been of my doing so I went back to amusing myself with watching people chew or something.

I unfriended him when we got back home. I don’t think he noticed.

Recently a “friend” went on a rant about Tim Cook not being “out” enough. That pushed me over the edge. While I fully believe that a militant-homophobe can be quite dangerous to the LGBT community, I also fully believe that a militant-homosexual can be just as dangerous. Tim Cook has never denied being gay. He doesn’t really talk about it but he doesn’t deny it. What do I care? It’s his life. Who says that a public figure needs to be wearing a neon sign and scream about gay rights every breathing moment? He’s not running around with a woman claiming to be married to her. There’s no dishonesty. Why complain from the cheap seats? Since I’m weeding out negativity in my life, I decided that I didn’t need to follow this “friend” after all. Delete delete delete.

I’ve been scolded for using the term “I’m just a guy with a husband”. I use it on several of my profiles. It’s just way I talk. I’m loud enough with my gayness, I don’t need to scream it with every online introduction. “Why don’t you say you’re gay?” My response of, “I believe being a guy with a husband is pretty much a no brainer that I’m gay” didn’t hold water in his aquarium. They’d really gasp at my old tag line of “more guy than gay.”

I’ve been scolded for not having a beard anymore. “A man that shaves is called a woman.” Aside from the implied “less than” when it comes to being a woman, my response was, “Yeah? Tell that to the soldiers keeping you safe, or the fireman that has raced into a burning home to save lives or to the pilot that landed the plane to safety while you choked for air on the oxygen mask that fell from the panel above your head, because none of them have beards either.” Besides, in the grand scheme of things, who cares what I look like? It’s my face and if I’m still getting kissed after nearly 18 years of being with my husband, I must be doing something right. As for the friend that likes to scold? Delete delete delete.

What all of this rambling boils down to is, my list of 250+ friends on Facebook is dwindling rather quickly. I have no problem with this. I’d rather just enjoy life for what it is, in the moment and share it with those that have had some sort of positive impact in my existence. As I have grown fond of saying lately, “I’m either becoming obsolete or just plain old fashioned.”

Now keep those kids off my lawn.

Words.

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During this holiday season I have been trying to take a more positive spin on what I say and write. In the past I have been hesitant to give praise but quick to give critique. I figured people should buck up and be perfect (like me?) and stop embracing mediocrity and that it was part of my duty to let the know that. The hesitation to give praise was due to an internal struggle, I was afraid that I would be seen as too gushy. I’m not a huge fan of gushy.

In an effort to bring positive change to our metropolitan area, I recently reached out to local politicians at various levels regarding some suggestions that I had that I thought would make our area more attractive to the industry that they’re trying to bring here. These changes are small things: the renumbering of a road, the relabeling of some highway interchanges, the inclusion of connecting paths between walkways, but I believe that every little bit helps, and if we take a bunch of small steps, we can all grow by leaps and bounds. Today I received a letter from one of the local politicians in regards to my suggestions and there are meetings now taking place with planning boards and such. Small steps.

While I’m always quick to rely on electronic means of communication, I’m starting to savor the amount of time it takes one to sit down, write a letter and mail it out. I recently had an amazingly customer experience at a small retail establishment. I took the time to type up a letter and to thank them for their customer service. I don’t expect to hear back from them but I’m sure they appreciate positive feedback in this whirlwind society we live in. No need to point and click, just write neatly on the line and make sure it’s legible.

I recently watched a video of a speech that moved me. The message of the speech was clear: we need to start being nicer and stop focusing on the negative. I took a moment to drop an email to that individual. I never expected a response, I’m sure speech givers such as him are very busy people, but I was surprised when he wrote back, thanking me and wishing me a wonderful holiday.

Sharing positive vibes. Isn’t that what this season is all about? Shouldn’t that be what love is all about?

I read things about wars on Christmas and church going people punching other people for saying “Happy Holidays” instead of Merry Christmas and others mauling one another so they can get the cheapest television on the block. We can tsk-tsk all we want, but instead of focusing on those negative experiences, maybe we can counteract it all with many more positive experiences.

Don’t be afraid to share the happiness.

Focus.

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It’s one of those days where Monday is flying by simply because of the pace at work. After being off on Friday I had a bunch of emails to contend with, a few snags with one of the applications at work (ID10T errors are the worst) and a bunch of meetings on my calendar. It could all be overwhelming but honestly it’s not.

I’m trying really hard to stay focused. And more importantly, I’m succeeding.

During a short break this morning I watched a couple of videos on YouTube. I watch videos while riding the exercise bike because otherwise I’d be bored out of my mind. This morning my videos of choice were of student pilots going on their first solo flight; they captured the experience on video. It’s something that I plan on doing as well. Watching each of these student pilots go through their checklists and through the same actions on their first solo flight was inspiring to me. Their focus is contagious for me and as Earl remarked during our chat, when it comes to my becoming a pilot, he hasn’t seen me this excited about something in a very long time.

The focus required for being a pilot is starting to creep into other parts of my life, and frankly, it’s a great feeling. It’s amazing what one can do when it’s passion behind whatever they’re focusing on. I’m passionate about work and all that I believe in. And I definitely believe I can fly.

Image courtesy of this random website.

Hope.

Tim Cook recently spoke at Auburn University as he received the Lifetime Achievement Award. I hope everyone hears the words of his speech.

Turin, New York.

Today I went for a ride into the Lake Ontario Snow Belt to see where I could find the most snow. My ride included the eastern shore of Lake Ontario, the city of Watertown, and then along the northern edge of the Tug Hill before heading south along the “other side” of the Tug Hill to get back home.

The winning area of “observable” snowfall was the small village of Turin, New York, the home of Snow Ridge Ski Resort.

Here’s a few shots taken along NY Route 26, the main route through Turin. The pictures with the Jeep are to give an idea of how high the snow banks are, which weren’t piled that much higher when compared to the adjoining fields, they were basically just flat across.

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Vintage.

So this grocery store was just a little over a mile from the house I grew up in. Sometimes it seemed like we were there once a day, tagging along with mom as we picked something up for supper that night (that might be a slight exaggeration). I always had one of those Hostess Apple Pies as a treat. As an adult I wish I still had the ability to burn all those calories.

I always liked the original sign on the front of the building. While they used to be common in communities around where I grew up (there were quite a few “Red and White”s, most of these signs are long gone. It’s great to see these in such good shape.

It’s a shame that the store has closed down. A victim of a shrinking community, it just couldn’t hold its own anymore.

At least the sign is holding up.

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Sharing.

Back in 2007 I was looking out in the woods behind our house. It was spring time and the leaves were just starting to pop out. Being comprised primarily of maple trees and a lot of underbrush, it wouldn’t be long before the leaves and other greenery would fill up the woods. The season wasn’t quite there yet when I gazed in the woods so that’s when I had the opportunity to spot the little evergreen tree.

Obviously spawned by the evergreens several hundred feet farther back into the woods, this little guy had found himself in the thick of the maple trees and the greenery. He wasn’t quite “Charlie Brown” material, but it was obvious that he was struggling with holding his own during the summer months. I sensed that given the right amount of light and TLC, he could thrive and be a big strong tree. At the time he was about two feet tall.

I dug a hole in the middle of our yard near the garage. It was a nice deep hole with plenty of room for the roots that I knew would come along with the tree. I had never transplanted a tree before, but I hiked across the little creek the runs behind the house and dug in a big circle around this little guy. I gathered up as much of his native dirt that I could, tried to keep all his roots intact and after crossing the creek with him in tow, I planted him in the newly dug hole in our yard. For several weeks I watered him regularly until I was sure that he was holding his own. That first Christmas in his new home, I decorated him with a set of miniature Christmas lights. There were only 50 lights on that set but it was plenty.

The next year he was taller and we upgraded to 100 lights.

The third year it was obvious that he had grown some more and we added more lights to accommodate. I didn’t really pay much attention to the fact that we were decorating the tree every year, after all he is an evergreen tree and when we decorate outside for the holidays, we decorate the evergreen tree. But that was the year that Earl was stopped by one of our neighbors. It’s rare that we speak to the neighbors, we’re not in that type of neighborhood really, but she stopped Earl to let him know how much her family loved that we were decorating that tree each year. Looking out their back patio door, they had a perfect view of the ever growing evergreen, and seeing lights out their back window carried the intended Christmas spirit into their home. It’s good to share the spirit that way.

A couple of years ago I let Earl know that we would need to buy more lights for the evergreen tree. He’s been thriving over the past 18 months and we just didn’t have enough lights to do him justice for the season. We purchased two new big spools of lights and last Sunday I decorated what has become my favorite evergreen tree on the property. He’s over eight feet tall now and he’s doing wonderfully. This evening, when we pulled into the driveway after a most excellent gathering with some dear friends, a flash of motion caught my eye as I saw the neighbor looking out her patio window at our tree.

Our little evergreen is growing more beautiful and stronger every year, and apparently he continues to delight all during the holiday season.

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Memory.

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I think I have a better average memory. I have a hunch that I inherited this from my father, as a retailer, he could tell a customer that he hadn’t seen in 10 years that they had purchased a pound of 10-common nails a decade earlier. He had the entire inventory of the family business in his head.

While my memory kind of works like my dad’s, I don’t know that I remember the same things that he does. I got to thinking about my memory this morning while I was taking a shower and I decided that I am a very visual person. I have to see something to remember it. Writing it down and/or reading something helps me remember it better. Lately, when I’m told something, I don’t remember it that well. I don’t think this is unusual in any way.

The problem with my memory is that I remember dumb things. For example, in one of the applications I have written, I “salt” a user’s password by adding insignificant characters to it. This makes the password harder to decrypt. That’s good. The “salt” used is the SKU for a candy bar from Ames, followed by a dash, followed by the department # for a greeting card at Hills, followed by a colon, followed by the name of the department store on Arsenal Street in Watertown, New York before it was called Jamesway. I think the fact that I can remember all of these things several decades later makes me some sort of freak.

The good thing about having a good memory is that I remember lots of happy things and recalling happy moments makes me smile, even if I’m having a bad day. The bad thing about having a good memory is that I can also remember things that made me not-so-happy. These events, at key moments in my life, linger on later in life and probably contributed to a few of my idiosyncrasies. For example, I remember being told that I had to leave my fourth grade classroom for a new school program called “Enrichment”. It would be an exciting new program for all involved and I would be going twice a week. As a young lad that already felt different because of my gay wiring and all, it was kind of devastating to me that I had to leave the classroom, because I was the only one in the entire class that had been selected for this new program. All eyes were on me as I made my way from room 202 to room 210 (more random numbers I can remember). This reinforced a feeling of being different. Luckily the Enrichment teacher had a student teacher accompanying him that I found wicked dreamy so that made everything a little more manageable. In fifth grade, I remember being told that “I was a damn fool” by the teacher (ex-military from Yonkers) when I tried to leap off my chair like a superhero. I didn’t get hurt, no one got hurt, but she was cranky and somehow I filed away that taking risks could result in people with horrid accents yelling at you. She called quite a few students a “damn fool”. I don’t think she’s teaching anymore.

I’d be such a hoot in therapy.

While my memory is mostly visual, there’s a good helping of muscle memory in there too. All of my icons on my smartphone, whether it’s an iPhone or an Android device, have to be in the same place. I remember phone numbers by rapping my fingers on a flat service as if I was dialing a phone. I do the same with credit card numbers and the like.

As I mentioned before, I have a lot of junk in my head. Not only do I remember the license plate number of my Dad’s ’71 Heavy Chevy, I also remember the license plate numbers of that era of my grandparent’s car, my aunt and uncle’s car and my godparents’ car. Those old plates have been gone for at least 30 years but I still remember 819 OST. Useless fact.

I’m counting on the combination of muscle memory and visual memory being an asset as I become a pilot. I’m paying very close attention to what I’m learning and trying to do things the same way so that it becomes intuitive. If I’m ever in an emergency situation, it’ll be calming techniques and instinctive recall that will help get the plane to safety, so I guess when it all comes down to it, I’m blessed with having this sort of memory.

Image randomly selected from the Brain Excel website.