Classroom Camouflage.
 

1 fish, 2 fish, red fish, blue fish. 

"Ahhhh, my guts are green!....Aaaahhhhh, how embarassing!" 

Like Sit Comms

FYI, occasionally, I write my blogs in advance and over a series of days/weeks so that:
1. I have blogs published when I don't have time to write.
2.They're well-written.
3. 'Sleeping on' what I write improves the piece.
4. I can get ahead when I have idle time.

Out of Control Flight

I just got introduced to Out of Control Flight (OCF). I was tired this last week. I did 6 flights in 4 days and the final flight was the most difficult and prior-to-flight-study-intensive. It’s amazing how worn out I feel after a flight. I’m seated; how tired could I get?! Very. My brain is complete useless mush after flying.

We learn stalls and spins. Spins are intense. I essentially raise the nose and cut the power so the wings don’t produce the necessary lift. Then, add rudder and start plummeting towards the earth, rapidly. At this point, the nose is back down and you enter a spiral, of sorts. The maneuver is started at least 9,000’ high and need to be recovered by 5,000’. 5,000’ is the OCF bailout altitude! That’s right, I said bailout. We wear parachutes every flight. When I first started this training, I was like, ‘Uhhh….why do we even need those things?!’ Simply, we play Icarus (sp?). Icarus, however, with his waxed wings and prolonged flying too high for too long had a cost that outweighed the benefit. For us, the benefit outweighs the cost. So I wear a parachute. Back to the spin. It’s INTENSE. You follow the procedures, hold the controls, and hope for the best. It works though.

The skidded turn stall is ridiculous. It is simulating when we’re in the landing pattern and our last turn onto Final is about to overshoot the runway. To correct for overshooting the runway, pilots add more rudder than normal to point the nose “at the numbers.” At low speeds and with a lot of rudder, the airplane skids and the result is EXTREME. The plane immediately flips inverted and commences its Death Spiral toward the earth. We demo this at 9,000’ but if it were to happen in the landing pattern, _____. What’s extreme is how fast we got flipped upside down and started spiraling. Wow.

Obtainable musics:

Michael Buble (with an accent aigu (sp?) over the 'e'); so smooth.

Clean transportation, Ace. 

On the right track. 

You Can Damn The Man too

Always, ALWAYS send credit card ads back to their origin (for free). Tear up your personal stuff, sure, but keep the generic pamphlets in tact so they can (and better!) recycle them. We win!

Damn The Man!

James R. Cooley
5956 Grandview Drive
Milton, FL 32570
James.cooley@gmail.com
518-editing this on Feb 17, 2009 because I am just now finding out that my damn phone number has been on the Internet for the past 3.5 years!


June 23, 2005


New York State Department of Taxation and Finance:
This piece serves dually as a clarification letter and a bill. As attached, I got a ‘NOTICE AND DEMAND for Payment of Tax Due’ for $32.89. The initial tax amount assessed was $32.00. After diligently completing my taxes in January, 2005, my tax preparer informed me of my $32 indebtedness to NYS. The following day, I filled out a check for $32 and mailed it in to the appropriate address.

I just called my bank to verify my recordkeeping. Indeed, the check had never been deposited/cashed on your end. I called your toll free line to inquire. Your friendly rep instructed me to merely mail another check in for $32, exempting me from the $.41 interest and $.48 penalty costs ($.89 total). I was informed that the check may have been inadvertently destroyed or lost. That should not be my problem.

The result of my frustration is this bill. How was I rewarded for my prompt tax filing and check mailing? With another bill consisting of 5 pages (front and back) that I have to take time to read (11 minutes), the nuisance of repeating what was done 6 months ago (check-writing ~ 2.5 minutes), the time and tediousness of calling my bank and you (9 minutes), the time necessary to type out this bill (23 minutes), depletion of my study time therefore hindering prospective career options (45.5 minutes + (approx salary opportunity cost) X (37 years until retirement)), and having to afford the extra check needed to repay you as well as another stamp to mail the check a second time.

It appears, based on the $.89 penalty charge that you’re graciously waving, that your Department is detail-oriented. It is this reason that I’m catering my bill for the mean of your personality type:

Based on an 8 hour day, 5 day work week, The Federal Government determined that my time is worth $19.80/hour.
Aforementioned total time is 1.517 hours.
$19.80/hour X 1.517 hours = $30.03.
Cost of checkbook/number of pages in checkbook = $??? (Your responsibility to research).
Career Opportunity Cost: $??? (Again, your responsibility).
Stamp = $.37.

Total: $30.40 + Checkbook cost/# of pages in checkbook + Career Opportunity Cost.
Thank you in advance for your cooperation and compliance. I must confess, however, that this aggravation is a prime example of why I am no longer a resident of New York. It would be difficult to dispute that these frustrations (I’m not alone) help deter prospective residents and discourage current residents from remaining in New York. I encourage correspondence to elaborate and hash out my career opportunity cost.




Respectfully,



James R. Cooley.

Summer for Your Senses; a math problem.

Sun screen smell
John Fogerty's Blue Moon Night
Hoegaarden (the taste of sunshine)
CK One Summer
Dried, salty skin
+Corn on the Kob
________________

Summer

CCR concert - in 2005!

On Friday, In Biloxi, MS, I saw Creedence Clearwater Revisited! This band is CCR - John Fogerty + former session guys that rock too. Stu Cook and Doug Clifford (bass and drums respectively) rock it hard, even at 60. I heard all the CCR hits just as recorded and could ask for nothing more. Until I was introduced to Primus (many moons ago), CCR was my favorite band for 7 years.
If given the opportunity, see CCR.
For The proverbial Record, I've seen John Fogerty in concert as well. Eff yeah! See him too.






Happy Father's Day, Pops.

Japan. 

Baz Luhrmann's 'Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)'

Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ’99
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be
it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by
scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable
than my own meandering
experience…I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not
understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded.
But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and
recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before
you and how fabulous you really looked….You’re not as fat as you
imagine.

Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as
effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing
bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that
never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm
on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you

Sing

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with
people who are reckless with yours.

Floss

Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes
you’re behind…the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with
yourself.

Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you
succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your
life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they
wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year
olds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children,maybe
you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky
chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…what ever you do, don’t
congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your
choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s. Enjoy your body,
use it every way you can…don’t be afraid of it, or what other people
think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever
own..

Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for
good.

Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the
people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go,but for the precious few you
should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and
lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you
knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live
in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will
philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize
that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were
noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund,
maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one
might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will
look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who
supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of
fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the
ugly parts and recycling it for more than
it’s worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen…

New song for the reader to obtain.

THE DILLINGER ESCAPE PLAN's 'Unretrofied' is my new interest summit.

From 'Da Hood to 'Da Beach. 

You taste like chicken, you son of a bitch! 

Great group. 

Nast to the nth power! Bomb this rest stop for the good of mankind. 

Coo Coo for Cocoa Beach.

Corey K.: stately and boisterous CGA classmate. Bright, funny, musically inclined, drinks Yuengling, prior quartermaster in the Coast Guard, tows his fishing boat with a Cherokee; the man! He’s moving to Japan for a 2 year Navy Exchange duty as The Navigator. Before he left his Cocoa home, we drove the 486 miles for a rushed weekend visit (this past weekend).

I was introduced to swamp folk. I’m no stranger to white trash, rednecks, and Miltonians, but this breed was new to me.

I ate frog’s legs and alligator. They taste like chicken. I liked eating the gator merely as an, “I defeated your nasty ass because I have a bigger brain and opposable thumbs, biotch” factor. 1 – Jim, 0 – Vicious alligator with strong jaws and sharp teeth. Says the tousled tour guide, gators can swim 30 mph (I figure 23.07 knots (since it’s in the water)) and outrun a horse for 30 yards. Take that factoid to the bank, Slappy.

Corey convinced Sarah S. to drive up to Cocoa with her NAPSter friend, Coco (yes the irony killed me too). Sarah was a former cadet and left me right-brain-dominant-friendless after freshman year. She first caught my eye with her breathtakingly angelic rendition of ‘Sweet Child of Mine’ at CGA’s annual talent show. I’ve had a crush on her ever since.
For the record, I have both my eyes back. She tossed the one back to me after it was caught…ahem…sorry.

Weekend rocked because:
1. Panhandle hurricane avoided.
2. Sarah.
3. Corey.
4. Great group provided for A+ debauchery.
5. Team America was watched twice.
6. Learning a new way to crack my thumb knuckles.

We saw this... 

...via this.

HA! I'm better than The Man!

http://homepage.mac.com/lexl/iblog/index.html is Lex's blog. After you click this link, click on the blog post called, 'Plane Porn.' Lex is linked to the right of this page as well.
He is The Man. I just wanted to bring to light that I had previously posted this link's picture in my blog a month or two ago. I WIN! It is this reason, and probably for only this reason, that I am better than The Man.

The above passage is confusing. Sorry. Lex is not The (proverbial) Man. That The Man is the one we're all suppose to damn, as in, 'Damn The Man.' If you are unclear with this expression you are uncool and don't deserve the luxury of me explaining it to you. Get a Cool Encyclopedia.

Songs of the Day.

I've been a crabby assmunch lately. School is onerous and relentless. I don't like it or the area I live in at all. So it's things like these songs I heard today that help pry the bug out from under there...so to speak. These 3 played while I was studying instrument climbs and descents this afternoon.

Fiona Apple's 'Please Send Me Someone To Love' is so smooth. If this song doesn't chill you out, then...then....you're too hot...er....shut up!

Tomahawk's 'Point and Click' has such an earnest chorus. It's such a big sounding song and let's face it, anything Mike Patton sings is exalting.

Nadasurf stinks. I saw their lame asses in Seattle when they opened for Death Cab for Cutie (DOUBLE YUCK!). I saw the show specifically to hear 'Popular.' They didn't play it then but my mp3 player did today. I rocked it proper!

Looking at my overwelming future as a flight student. Yeah James, it sucks! Actually, the flights themselves are fun as hell. I have my 4th flight at 6:30 AM tomorrow. I suppose they'd be more fun if they were at a REASONABLE FREAKING HOUR! But seriously folks... 

I mentioned Newfoundland. This happened about the same time; we might have been north Canada by this time. Remember? 

This picture annoys me so much. What you can't see is our slicked back hair styles. We had Wet Wednesdays...and Handsome Thursdays, etc... There's a whiter version of myself, Tone, and Andy while at CGA. Ugh... hideous! 

Nostalgic Kind of a Guy.

I'm not sure where the expression 'Field Day' came from; probably from WWII where all the good dirty jokes your father just told you came from. Today, while I was waiting for the weather to not clear up before my flight, I sat and read the most interesting reading in the 21st century, T-34C electrical systems! I eavesdropped on a couple discussing how the guy was deceived when he served on his first ship. I immediately remembered a similar feeling when I was on the HEALY and we stopped in St. John's, Newfoundland. See, up until the day before we pulled in (same with this cat I was listening to), I had always thought a Field Day was a day on the elementary school sport's field competing for popularity by running, jumping, and throwing as fast, high, and far as a 2nd grader could. Most of us lame-asses got a green ribbon for participation. If you got a handful of ribbons, hot shit!, you were cool!

But nay, a field day on a ship or cutter involves a fresh water wash-down from top to bottom. The larger the ship (the Healy is the largest cutter in the Coast Guard), the longer it takes. 'Twas great to get out of the office, put on some Outkast, and do some manual freak'n labor though.

I was still as disappointed as the guy I overheard today when I found out I wasn't going to be doing the 200 yard relay on the main deck with my shipmates in hopes of some lousy, $.02 ribbons.
Now you know what a maritime Field Day is, you salty dawgs.

St. Johns and the rest of Newfoundland deserves your visit. Those Newfies are crazy!

Unrelated, the band Dust For Life rocks something metamorphic, maybe even sedimentary!

Some links

Holy crap!

I have Moose and Buddha to thank for these links.

So uncomfortable.

I used to have nightmares about this, like that book about the guy getting swallowed by the whale...what the crap is the name of that?! Anyway, it was scary, and I laugh about it now.