| Last Five Comments |
| Steve on “One Six Right” (28 Feb 2010 (Sun) @ 4:13 PM (PST)) | True. But with cars, for instance, we've seen a f... |
| John on “One Six Right” (28 Feb 2010 (Sun) @ 12:16 PM (PST)) | I think some of your points are totally right on. ... |
| Steve on “New Years Resolutions” (8 Jan 2010 (Fri) @ 7:04 PM (PST)) | If I watch you run it, then it's basically the sam... |
| Lord Cheese on “New Years Resolutions” (8 Jan 2010 (Fri) @ 6:52 PM (PST)) | I think to fullfill #2 and #3 you need to train to... |
| Brent on “The Truth with us” (5 Jan 2010 (Tue) @ 12:16 PM (PST)) | You've got to love that story. One act of compass... |
| Fifty Years Later |
September 15, 1958
It was unseasonably cool for September; breezy, with the sky alternating between patches of blue and torrents of rain.
My husband was returning, finally and for what I must only hope is the last time, from his naval service. He had enlisted young, right at the end of the second great war, and as a result he was able to receive his discharge before the growing threat of Vietnam spilled onto the American conscious.
I selected a petite flower dress, and a hat, from the small closet of my motel room. These weren’t the most appropriate clothes for the weather, but weather be damned, I wasn’t going to meet my husband in a heavy overcoat. Prudence, perhaps, dictated as well that I select an umbrella to avoid being caught in a shower.
The hands on the table clock swept closer and closer to 1. I would meet him, his grizzled face, his strong muscles, his take-charge attitude, all of him; at the bus station here in town. It would be an easy walk, and as I finished dressing, I could hardly contain my excitement.
“Maytown,” he wrote, “one in the afternoon. That’s when the bus is due to arrive. If I could see your face when I step off that bus, I would be the happiest man alive.”
That’s why I was here, in Maytown, in a motel.
The sundress fit me well, swishing to and fro as I meandered down the motel hallway. I could hear the sounds of last of the lunch crowd in the restaurant.
“What a beautiful dress,” an elderly lady remarked to me as I passed.
“Thank you,” I smiled, “I’m going to meet my husband.”
“Coming home from the war?” she asked.
“Oh yes, I’m so excited!”
Her wizened old face and distant eyes still held enough life to crack a smile. Perhaps she was remembering herself at a younger age, perhaps she once went in a flower print dress to meet her husband.
The motel reception desk was empty; perhaps a guest was being shown to their room. No matter. A vacuum salesman, dressed in a crisp blue uniform, carried one of the new mechanical cleaning devices across the room. In a motel this size, cleaning is surely expensive; the vacuum salesman had come to the right place. Some of my friends had told me they were planned to purchase a vacuum cleaner; prices had come down. Maybe one day I would own one too.
“That’s a nice looking vacuum,” I commented, still riding on my cloud.
“Thank you, ma'am,” he smiled.
I could see the undecided September weather through the front windows. I opened my umbrella and stepped outside.
It was cool, not cold, not as cold as I expected. The bus station was nearby, and I began to walk, trot almost, excited and giddy.
Cars picked their way up and down the street, carefully avoiding large puddles and poor souls running across the road to get out of the rain. I could see the bus station, the sign and a poster advertising the bus' services. At this moment, I was assaulted.
A young woman, not much younger than myself, grabbed my arm aggressively. “Maybelle, get inside!” she yelled.
How she knew my name, I have no idea. I’ve certainly never met or seen her before in my life. “Get your hands off me!” I cried. I fumbled with the umbrella, and it fell into a puddle. A small bit of water splashed onto my dress. Suddenly I felt very cold.
My attacker wore a strange outfit, an outfit that reminded me of the mental asylum not too many miles away. I’ve heard, well, to be delicate, that sometimes the body makes up in strength what it lacks in other areas. Perhaps she was recently released; or escaped. Who has ever heard of one young lady assaulting another, in broad daylight, near the bus station? I have never heard of such a thing.
She didn’t back down. “Maybelle, come with me,” she yelled again, and began to drag me. She’s very strong, and I have trouble holding my balance.
“My husband,” I call out in despair, “I’m going to meet my husband! He’s coming on the bus! Let go of me!”
Then I see it. The bus is here. My husband will save me from this wench. The bus rolls to a stop, slowly, easing gently into the station. “Davey!” I cry out at the top of my lungs as the doors open. “Help!”
I’m too far away now to see Davey, my husband, get off the bus. In desperation, I hit my attacker. I know it’s not lady-like, but I had to do something. It doesn’t help, she’s too strong. Suddenly, emerging from the motel, another lady, dressed like the first. Together they tear me away, back through the doors, and hallways, down, down, down.
Davey...
September 15, 2008
It was unseasonably cool for September; breezy, with the sky alternating between patches of blue and torrents of rain.
Rhonda shook her head. “Good luck,” she said sarcastically.
I raised my eyebrows. The day was looking very busy all ready. One of the caregivers had called in sick, the nurse was on the phone with a doctor, in some kind of screaming match, and residents were demanding all sorts of medication and care. Maytown Nursing Home was not a place to work if you couldn’t handle action.
“I’m going to take these down west hall,” I called out to the nurse, motioned at some requested medications, “and then I’m come back and help you!”
She gave me the thumbs up, never breaking her stride with the doctor on the phone.
I walked to the end of the hall first, visiting several residents and giving out medications. Halfway down the hall, a resident named Ellen was limping down the hall with her walker. “Did you see Maybelle today?” her voice cracked, “She looks so lovely.”
“I haven’t seen Maybelle today, Ellen,” I replied quickly, “But I will go and say hello to her in a few minutes.” Maybelle was a fun older lady only in her seventies, which was a bit young compared to some of our residents. But she wasn’t aging well, and doctors had determined that she was coming down with dementia.
“Ok, then,” Ellen continued slowly toward her room.
Maybelle’s room was actually behind me now. I continued dispensing the rest of the requested medication, and then returned down to Maybelle’s room. Ellen was gone, presumably back in her room. I knocked on Maybelle’s door.
“Maybelle!” I called out.
Silence. I popped the door open and glanced around. It was quickly obvious that Maybelle was not in the room. Could she be at the nurses' station?
I skipped back down to the nurses station. Empty. I could hear the nurse rummaging in a back room, probably looking for some lost medication. The janitor, dressed in his crisp blue uniform, was vacuuming nearby. The noise of the vacuum made it impossible to talk to the nurse from here. I stepped into the back room.
“The doctor claims she was never prescribed Xanax,” she exploded, “But I’ve got three boxes right here. Why would the pharmacy have sent it if the doctor hadn’t prescribed it?”
“Sorry,” I interrupted, “Have you seen Maybelle? She’s not in her room and she’s not at the nurses station.”
“Well then go look for her!” the nurse snapped at me.
I backed out quickly. The janitor nodded to me; he was now headed for the east hall, vacuuming away.
I walked quickly toward the kitchen, thinking she might be going for a snack. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash. A dress. Maybelle. She was out in the rain.
“Maybelle’s outside!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, and, not waiting to see if anyone heard me, I ran out after her. I crossed the parking lot in record time; Maybelle in her old flower print dress and tattered umbrella, was headed for the city bus stop on the busy street.
“Maybelle, get inside!” I yelled as I caught up with her, grabbing her arm.
“Get your hands off me!” Maybelle responded. Her eyes were hollow, empty like a broken glass. I held her with care, feeling her fragile skin flex beneath my fingers. She stumbled and dropped her umbrella; it splashed into a puddle. I could see confusion clouding her vision. We had know for several months that Maybelle was developing dementia, but it had never resulted in an escape attempt before. I had to get her back inside quickly, before the cold and wet gave her pneumonia, or worse.
“Maybelle, come with me,” I said forcefully, and began to maneuver Maybelle back toward the nursing home. She resisted, and I struggled to move her without hurting her. I couldn’t let her stay outside and I certainly couldn’t let her get to the street. She could be hit by a car.
“My husband,” Maybelle called out, like a wounded animal, “I’m going to meet my husband! He’s coming on the bus! Let go of me!”
The bus. Sure enough, moments later, the bus pulled in. Several teenagers got off, but no husband. “Davey!” she calls out to them.
The nurse, finally realizing there was a serious situation, came out to help me. Together we manage to get a sobbing, incoherent Maybelle back to her room and into her chair. She’s cold, so I change her clothes and cover her with a blanket.
“We have to call the state,” the nurse says outside her door.
“I suppose her husband died some time ago,” I muse, having only known her as a widow since she arrived.
The nurse looks away. “It’s very sad,” she says, “her husband was a naval soldier; he was killed at the end of the World War 2. Ironically, it was an accidentally death. He got hit on the head by some machinery on the boat, fell off, and drowned. They were married right before he went off to duty, and she never got to see him return. She never re-married, and has no children or any other living relatives that I know of.”
I look down, and nod.
“I’ll call the state. We’ll have to arrange a transfer.”
It was unseasonably cool for September; breezy, with the sky alternating between patches of blue and torrents of rain.
My husband was returning, finally and for what I must only hope is the last time, from his naval service. He had enlisted young, right at the end of the second great war, and as a result he was able to receive his discharge before the growing threat of Vietnam spilled onto the American conscious.
I selected a petite flower dress, and a hat, from the small closet of my motel room. These weren’t the most appropriate clothes for the weather, but weather be damned, I wasn’t going to meet my husband in a heavy overcoat. Prudence, perhaps, dictated as well that I select an umbrella to avoid being caught in a shower.
The hands on the table clock swept closer and closer to 1. I would meet him, his grizzled face, his strong muscles, his take-charge attitude, all of him; at the bus station here in town. It would be an easy walk, and as I finished dressing, I could hardly contain my excitement.
“Maytown,” he wrote, “one in the afternoon. That’s when the bus is due to arrive. If I could see your face when I step off that bus, I would be the happiest man alive.”
That’s why I was here, in Maytown, in a motel.
The sundress fit me well, swishing to and fro as I meandered down the motel hallway. I could hear the sounds of last of the lunch crowd in the restaurant.
“What a beautiful dress,” an elderly lady remarked to me as I passed.
“Thank you,” I smiled, “I’m going to meet my husband.”
“Coming home from the war?” she asked.
“Oh yes, I’m so excited!”
Her wizened old face and distant eyes still held enough life to crack a smile. Perhaps she was remembering herself at a younger age, perhaps she once went in a flower print dress to meet her husband.
The motel reception desk was empty; perhaps a guest was being shown to their room. No matter. A vacuum salesman, dressed in a crisp blue uniform, carried one of the new mechanical cleaning devices across the room. In a motel this size, cleaning is surely expensive; the vacuum salesman had come to the right place. Some of my friends had told me they were planned to purchase a vacuum cleaner; prices had come down. Maybe one day I would own one too.
“That’s a nice looking vacuum,” I commented, still riding on my cloud.
“Thank you, ma'am,” he smiled.
I could see the undecided September weather through the front windows. I opened my umbrella and stepped outside.
It was cool, not cold, not as cold as I expected. The bus station was nearby, and I began to walk, trot almost, excited and giddy.
Cars picked their way up and down the street, carefully avoiding large puddles and poor souls running across the road to get out of the rain. I could see the bus station, the sign and a poster advertising the bus' services. At this moment, I was assaulted.
A young woman, not much younger than myself, grabbed my arm aggressively. “Maybelle, get inside!” she yelled.
How she knew my name, I have no idea. I’ve certainly never met or seen her before in my life. “Get your hands off me!” I cried. I fumbled with the umbrella, and it fell into a puddle. A small bit of water splashed onto my dress. Suddenly I felt very cold.
My attacker wore a strange outfit, an outfit that reminded me of the mental asylum not too many miles away. I’ve heard, well, to be delicate, that sometimes the body makes up in strength what it lacks in other areas. Perhaps she was recently released; or escaped. Who has ever heard of one young lady assaulting another, in broad daylight, near the bus station? I have never heard of such a thing.
She didn’t back down. “Maybelle, come with me,” she yelled again, and began to drag me. She’s very strong, and I have trouble holding my balance.
“My husband,” I call out in despair, “I’m going to meet my husband! He’s coming on the bus! Let go of me!”
Then I see it. The bus is here. My husband will save me from this wench. The bus rolls to a stop, slowly, easing gently into the station. “Davey!” I cry out at the top of my lungs as the doors open. “Help!”
I’m too far away now to see Davey, my husband, get off the bus. In desperation, I hit my attacker. I know it’s not lady-like, but I had to do something. It doesn’t help, she’s too strong. Suddenly, emerging from the motel, another lady, dressed like the first. Together they tear me away, back through the doors, and hallways, down, down, down.
Davey...
September 15, 2008
It was unseasonably cool for September; breezy, with the sky alternating between patches of blue and torrents of rain.
Rhonda shook her head. “Good luck,” she said sarcastically.
I raised my eyebrows. The day was looking very busy all ready. One of the caregivers had called in sick, the nurse was on the phone with a doctor, in some kind of screaming match, and residents were demanding all sorts of medication and care. Maytown Nursing Home was not a place to work if you couldn’t handle action.
“I’m going to take these down west hall,” I called out to the nurse, motioned at some requested medications, “and then I’m come back and help you!”
She gave me the thumbs up, never breaking her stride with the doctor on the phone.
I walked to the end of the hall first, visiting several residents and giving out medications. Halfway down the hall, a resident named Ellen was limping down the hall with her walker. “Did you see Maybelle today?” her voice cracked, “She looks so lovely.”
“I haven’t seen Maybelle today, Ellen,” I replied quickly, “But I will go and say hello to her in a few minutes.” Maybelle was a fun older lady only in her seventies, which was a bit young compared to some of our residents. But she wasn’t aging well, and doctors had determined that she was coming down with dementia.
“Ok, then,” Ellen continued slowly toward her room.
Maybelle’s room was actually behind me now. I continued dispensing the rest of the requested medication, and then returned down to Maybelle’s room. Ellen was gone, presumably back in her room. I knocked on Maybelle’s door.
“Maybelle!” I called out.
Silence. I popped the door open and glanced around. It was quickly obvious that Maybelle was not in the room. Could she be at the nurses' station?
I skipped back down to the nurses station. Empty. I could hear the nurse rummaging in a back room, probably looking for some lost medication. The janitor, dressed in his crisp blue uniform, was vacuuming nearby. The noise of the vacuum made it impossible to talk to the nurse from here. I stepped into the back room.
“The doctor claims she was never prescribed Xanax,” she exploded, “But I’ve got three boxes right here. Why would the pharmacy have sent it if the doctor hadn’t prescribed it?”
“Sorry,” I interrupted, “Have you seen Maybelle? She’s not in her room and she’s not at the nurses station.”
“Well then go look for her!” the nurse snapped at me.
I backed out quickly. The janitor nodded to me; he was now headed for the east hall, vacuuming away.
I walked quickly toward the kitchen, thinking she might be going for a snack. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash. A dress. Maybelle. She was out in the rain.
“Maybelle’s outside!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, and, not waiting to see if anyone heard me, I ran out after her. I crossed the parking lot in record time; Maybelle in her old flower print dress and tattered umbrella, was headed for the city bus stop on the busy street.
“Maybelle, get inside!” I yelled as I caught up with her, grabbing her arm.
“Get your hands off me!” Maybelle responded. Her eyes were hollow, empty like a broken glass. I held her with care, feeling her fragile skin flex beneath my fingers. She stumbled and dropped her umbrella; it splashed into a puddle. I could see confusion clouding her vision. We had know for several months that Maybelle was developing dementia, but it had never resulted in an escape attempt before. I had to get her back inside quickly, before the cold and wet gave her pneumonia, or worse.
“Maybelle, come with me,” I said forcefully, and began to maneuver Maybelle back toward the nursing home. She resisted, and I struggled to move her without hurting her. I couldn’t let her stay outside and I certainly couldn’t let her get to the street. She could be hit by a car.
“My husband,” Maybelle called out, like a wounded animal, “I’m going to meet my husband! He’s coming on the bus! Let go of me!”
The bus. Sure enough, moments later, the bus pulled in. Several teenagers got off, but no husband. “Davey!” she calls out to them.
The nurse, finally realizing there was a serious situation, came out to help me. Together we manage to get a sobbing, incoherent Maybelle back to her room and into her chair. She’s cold, so I change her clothes and cover her with a blanket.
“We have to call the state,” the nurse says outside her door.
“I suppose her husband died some time ago,” I muse, having only known her as a widow since she arrived.
The nurse looks away. “It’s very sad,” she says, “her husband was a naval soldier; he was killed at the end of the World War 2. Ironically, it was an accidentally death. He got hit on the head by some machinery on the boat, fell off, and drowned. They were married right before he went off to duty, and she never got to see him return. She never re-married, and has no children or any other living relatives that I know of.”
I look down, and nod.
“I’ll call the state. We’ll have to arrange a transfer.”
| ITiCSE paper |
My ITiCSE 2010 paper was accepted. Of the five reviewers, two gave it the highest rating possible (all 5’s); one gave it one 4 and the rest 5s, and the other two were more cautious.
Excerpts:
This was a major issue I had in writing the paper – the class sizes are somewhat small, and perhaps not enough for statistical significance. Therefore, I carefully avoided any language in the paper which might incorrectly claim significance. Of course, a statistically strong result is preferable!
a curious one:
I found this review curious for two reasons:
1. Regardless of what short-cuts you may apply, the computer has one specific approach that it uses. Students have a hard time understanding that the computer DOES NOT infer “what they mean” or make reasonable choices for them – it does exactly what they say. “My way” here is, as much as possible, “the computer’s way”.
2. Studies have shown that this “consistency” is a significant factor in predicting student success; in fact, the whole foundation of my approach is based on the idea that the students' will succeed more if they have a better mental model of the way the computer is working.
Next step is to preform some revisions and prepare the paper for final publication.
Excerpts:
The troubling statement(s) I found are the statistical inference that is presented in the Abstract and in Section 3. The phrase is “40% aggregate increase in class completion”: there needs to be some indication of the number of students that are in the class. If the class size is 10, this increase is entirely meaningless. If the class size is 100, then this may be significant. Providing some measure of this statistic is required for this paper to be accepted.
This was a major issue I had in writing the paper – the class sizes are somewhat small, and perhaps not enough for statistical significance. Therefore, I carefully avoided any language in the paper which might incorrectly claim significance. Of course, a statistically strong result is preferable!
Lots of us probably use debuggers to show program traces, this takes the idea a step further. I think this adds some extra functionality to a common pedagogical approach.
a curious one:
The tool (I used it online) reminds me of “programmed instruction” tools (i.e. you will learn my way, no shortcuts because you know something already), for example: “the student must select the division operator first”. I dislike these approaches, however I may never have been the typical first year CS student. I would have to agree with the students who did not “enjoy” using it.
I found this review curious for two reasons:
1. Regardless of what short-cuts you may apply, the computer has one specific approach that it uses. Students have a hard time understanding that the computer DOES NOT infer “what they mean” or make reasonable choices for them – it does exactly what they say. “My way” here is, as much as possible, “the computer’s way”.
2. Studies have shown that this “consistency” is a significant factor in predicting student success; in fact, the whole foundation of my approach is based on the idea that the students' will succeed more if they have a better mental model of the way the computer is working.
Next step is to preform some revisions and prepare the paper for final publication.
| One Six Right |
I watched the documentary One Six Right last night on hulu. It’s free (with commercials). The movie is outwardly about the history of the Van Nuys Airport in California; but really it’s intended to be general aviation propaganda: a movie that pilots can show to non-pilots to demonstrate the value of smaller airports, especially as noise complaints and land values increase.
As a historical documentary, the movie is enjoyable. As a propaganda piece, I think it falls flat.
First, the movie extensively interviews the older generation who grew up when aviation was first becoming mainstream. This is beneficial for the history aspect, but not for the propaganda aspect. The “public fascination” with aviation described by these older gentlemen no longer exists, and it’s use as an argument in favor of airports (that the runway is the “main st” of a community) seems strangely dated. Very few younger pilots are interviewed, implying that general aviation is either (a) a concept whose time has come and gone, or (b) only for the rich and retired.
Second, the movie describes the economic benefits of airports. Keep in mind the Van Nuys is the busiest general aviation airport in the country. Even so, the reality is that the airport is “plagued with budget deficits”. The airport’s own economic impact report paints the rosy picture that “Annually, the airport contributes more than $1.3 billion to the Southern California economy, supports over 12,300 jobs and generates an earnings impact of $707 million.” Ok, that sounds good. But what about the land the airport sits on?
I went on zillow and looked at recent sales in the Van Nuys area. I subtracted $100,000 from single family home prices (actual sales price, not asking price) to account for the value of the building; then I divided by the lot square footage to find an estimated land price. I averaged about $30 per square foot for the land.
According to the Van Nuys Airport Master Plan, the airport sits on 730 acres of land. That’s over 31,000,000 square feet. A little quick math shows that the land has a value of nearly $1 billion dollars. That’s one whole year of economic impact right there. The land could be replaced by over 4,000 single family homes, creating a wealth of construction jobs and bringing in additional tax revenue.
Would the revenue of new construction sustain above the current airport production rates? Doubtful; but keep in mind we’re talking about the country’s busiest GA airport... Outerville Regional Airport doesn’t stand a chance at these sorts of calculations.
Third, the movie claims that without small airports and small airplanes, the flight training link to commercial airlines and cargo will be broken. However, many airline pilots get their initial training in the military. Most foreign countries have very limited or no public general aviation; and yet they are still able to train and staff their commercial airlines. Military flight training has been and will continue to be the key. The pilot who trains as a civilian is unlikely to ever become an airline pilot.
The real problem for airports isn’t advocacy, if only because the advocacy is almost always a lie. In most cases (Van Nuys and other very busy GA airports excepted), the community would derive greater benefit if they bulldozed the airport and developed it into homes and offices. I’m a pilot, I love flying and I love airports. I don’t want that statement to be true, but it is true.
The problem is barrier of entry, something the movie downplays. In the historical aspect, one older aviator was talking about how he rented an airplane for $3.50/hour. The movie also showed a restaurant menu from that time (talking about the airport’s services), which had food prices between $1 and $2 a plate. If we adjust forward, today, a sit-down meal is about $10 a plate. Multiply by the same factor, and you come out with $35 an hour as the price we would expect a plane rental to be. But it’s not. Try $100 an hour at the low end, and rising. Two factors are contributing to this dramatic rise in cost: The cost of a new airplane, and the cost of insurance. (Fuel prices, adjusted for inflation, are similar)
It used to be that anyone could own an airplane. Piper Cubs, back when they were first made, sold for $1,000 to $2,000 new. This was in 1940. Using the inflation calculator, I find that equals $30,000 in today’s money. Try to buy a brand new airplane today for $30,000. Go ahead. I’ll wait.
How much does that airplane cost new today? Good news, new Cubs are for sale, manufactured here in the US of A. The price tags? Starting at over $100,000. A more conventional new small airplane today (from the Cessna lineage) will cost between $200,000 and $500,000.
If you can rent or buy an airplane, what does it take to become a pilot? It used to be a simple course; there were a few instruments and airspace was limited and simple. Today, complex instruments and complex airspace span the country.
For example, the other day I was out flying with Lisa. We were departing Olympia and runway 35 was in use. I received the instruction: “Taxi Echo, Delta, Charlie, Foxtrot to Runway 35”. For your convenience, here is a diagram of the route (in red):
Ignoring the blue lines I added, as a pilot, the rule is that a taxi instruction allows you to cross any runway except the runway assigned, unless instructed to hold short. No hold short instruction was given, so where I am required to stop? Just looking at the picture, the answer looks like “no where” until I get to the very end. But that’s not true.
“Crossing” a runway means not to literally cross it, but to enter its active area, which is defined by hold short lines on the taxi ways. I have drawn, in blue, the position of the hold short lines on Bravo, Delta, and Charlie. Therefore, the instruction actually requires me to delay making the turn from Delta onto Charlie until further clearance is received.
Failure to do so would constitute a runway incursion and could result in a suspension of my certificate. Lovely.
This is the kind of thing that student pilot’s today have to deal with. This increased complexity of equipment and rules directly translates in more training, which means more cost. These increased costs drive people away from aviation simply because it’s not an affordable hobby. Solving this problem is the key to restoring vitality to our airports.
The sport pilot rules and light-sport airplanes are trying to help, but it’s not enough. Even the cheapest LSAs are generally starting at $100,000. The cheapest LSA I’ve ever found for sale new was $60,000. We need good quality, usable aircraft starting at $30,000, and pilot training that doesn’t require 100 hours, effectively, to become certified. I have no idea how to make this happen, I suspect it’s not plausible. I suspect that general aviation, the really general, the small planes and individual pilots and owners, are a dying breed. But that’s just me being cynical. I hope I’m wrong.
As a historical documentary, the movie is enjoyable. As a propaganda piece, I think it falls flat.
First, the movie extensively interviews the older generation who grew up when aviation was first becoming mainstream. This is beneficial for the history aspect, but not for the propaganda aspect. The “public fascination” with aviation described by these older gentlemen no longer exists, and it’s use as an argument in favor of airports (that the runway is the “main st” of a community) seems strangely dated. Very few younger pilots are interviewed, implying that general aviation is either (a) a concept whose time has come and gone, or (b) only for the rich and retired.
Second, the movie describes the economic benefits of airports. Keep in mind the Van Nuys is the busiest general aviation airport in the country. Even so, the reality is that the airport is “plagued with budget deficits”. The airport’s own economic impact report paints the rosy picture that “Annually, the airport contributes more than $1.3 billion to the Southern California economy, supports over 12,300 jobs and generates an earnings impact of $707 million.” Ok, that sounds good. But what about the land the airport sits on?
I went on zillow and looked at recent sales in the Van Nuys area. I subtracted $100,000 from single family home prices (actual sales price, not asking price) to account for the value of the building; then I divided by the lot square footage to find an estimated land price. I averaged about $30 per square foot for the land.
According to the Van Nuys Airport Master Plan, the airport sits on 730 acres of land. That’s over 31,000,000 square feet. A little quick math shows that the land has a value of nearly $1 billion dollars. That’s one whole year of economic impact right there. The land could be replaced by over 4,000 single family homes, creating a wealth of construction jobs and bringing in additional tax revenue.
Would the revenue of new construction sustain above the current airport production rates? Doubtful; but keep in mind we’re talking about the country’s busiest GA airport... Outerville Regional Airport doesn’t stand a chance at these sorts of calculations.
Third, the movie claims that without small airports and small airplanes, the flight training link to commercial airlines and cargo will be broken. However, many airline pilots get their initial training in the military. Most foreign countries have very limited or no public general aviation; and yet they are still able to train and staff their commercial airlines. Military flight training has been and will continue to be the key. The pilot who trains as a civilian is unlikely to ever become an airline pilot.
The real problem for airports isn’t advocacy, if only because the advocacy is almost always a lie. In most cases (Van Nuys and other very busy GA airports excepted), the community would derive greater benefit if they bulldozed the airport and developed it into homes and offices. I’m a pilot, I love flying and I love airports. I don’t want that statement to be true, but it is true.
The problem is barrier of entry, something the movie downplays. In the historical aspect, one older aviator was talking about how he rented an airplane for $3.50/hour. The movie also showed a restaurant menu from that time (talking about the airport’s services), which had food prices between $1 and $2 a plate. If we adjust forward, today, a sit-down meal is about $10 a plate. Multiply by the same factor, and you come out with $35 an hour as the price we would expect a plane rental to be. But it’s not. Try $100 an hour at the low end, and rising. Two factors are contributing to this dramatic rise in cost: The cost of a new airplane, and the cost of insurance. (Fuel prices, adjusted for inflation, are similar)
It used to be that anyone could own an airplane. Piper Cubs, back when they were first made, sold for $1,000 to $2,000 new. This was in 1940. Using the inflation calculator, I find that equals $30,000 in today’s money. Try to buy a brand new airplane today for $30,000. Go ahead. I’ll wait.
How much does that airplane cost new today? Good news, new Cubs are for sale, manufactured here in the US of A. The price tags? Starting at over $100,000. A more conventional new small airplane today (from the Cessna lineage) will cost between $200,000 and $500,000.
If you can rent or buy an airplane, what does it take to become a pilot? It used to be a simple course; there were a few instruments and airspace was limited and simple. Today, complex instruments and complex airspace span the country.
For example, the other day I was out flying with Lisa. We were departing Olympia and runway 35 was in use. I received the instruction: “Taxi Echo, Delta, Charlie, Foxtrot to Runway 35”. For your convenience, here is a diagram of the route (in red):
Ignoring the blue lines I added, as a pilot, the rule is that a taxi instruction allows you to cross any runway except the runway assigned, unless instructed to hold short. No hold short instruction was given, so where I am required to stop? Just looking at the picture, the answer looks like “no where” until I get to the very end. But that’s not true.
“Crossing” a runway means not to literally cross it, but to enter its active area, which is defined by hold short lines on the taxi ways. I have drawn, in blue, the position of the hold short lines on Bravo, Delta, and Charlie. Therefore, the instruction actually requires me to delay making the turn from Delta onto Charlie until further clearance is received.
Failure to do so would constitute a runway incursion and could result in a suspension of my certificate. Lovely.
This is the kind of thing that student pilot’s today have to deal with. This increased complexity of equipment and rules directly translates in more training, which means more cost. These increased costs drive people away from aviation simply because it’s not an affordable hobby. Solving this problem is the key to restoring vitality to our airports.
The sport pilot rules and light-sport airplanes are trying to help, but it’s not enough. Even the cheapest LSAs are generally starting at $100,000. The cheapest LSA I’ve ever found for sale new was $60,000. We need good quality, usable aircraft starting at $30,000, and pilot training that doesn’t require 100 hours, effectively, to become certified. I have no idea how to make this happen, I suspect it’s not plausible. I suspect that general aviation, the really general, the small planes and individual pilots and owners, are a dying breed. But that’s just me being cynical. I hope I’m wrong.
|
| BBQ |
Lisa and I fired up the BBQ tonight and made Boca burgers. MM bbq.
I’ve been working on a programming project and plagued by a confusing problem... I’m rendering data and I expect it to look, graphically, almost exactly like prerendered versions from the same source.. But they look different, in some cases radically. I kept trying more and more obscure solutions, involving pages of complex math... But no success.
Finally I discovered that I was using unequal x and y scale values, causing a distortion. It was easily fixed with one line of code. Ahh, debugging.
In other news, a detailed analysis of the thunderstorm Air France crash from last year. Although some are pointing out there are errors in the article.
Overheard on campus (one guy talking to another): "Going to school while having a relationship sucks. They’re always like: pay attention to me!"
I’ve been working on a programming project and plagued by a confusing problem... I’m rendering data and I expect it to look, graphically, almost exactly like prerendered versions from the same source.. But they look different, in some cases radically. I kept trying more and more obscure solutions, involving pages of complex math... But no success.
Finally I discovered that I was using unequal x and y scale values, causing a distortion. It was easily fixed with one line of code. Ahh, debugging.
In other news, a detailed analysis of the thunderstorm Air France crash from last year. Although some are pointing out there are errors in the article.
Overheard on campus (one guy talking to another): "Going to school while having a relationship sucks. They’re always like: pay attention to me!"
|
| Astoria and Kelso |
photos
We had the plane scheduled for this afternoon and were debating several possibilities. We decided to fly over the hills to Astoria, and then up the Columbia to Kelso, and then back to Olympia. That would be about 1.5 hours in the air and we’d get back around when it got dark.
Because we wouldn’t be back late enough to renew night currency, I figured instead it would be a good opportunity to work with flight plans and flight following, both of which I haven’t been using on the recent trips as they have been shorter in distance or out of radar service areas.
I filed a flight plan from Olympia to Kelso via Astoria on V-187. After takeoff we opened the plan and then when we got to Astoria, I radio’d in to give a position report. I have heard of giving position reports but never tried it. Pretty easy.
Enroute to Astoria I had planed for 4,500 but as the hills approached I felt it was too low so we increased to 6,500, which felt like a good altitude. The sunlight directly in my eyes making distance judgments very hard was a contributing factor.
We descended over Astoria for a few minutes and enjoyed the sights, and then continued up toward Kelso with the sun setting behind us.
We then proceeded up the Columbia river at 2,500 with the hills bracketing us in. It’s a cozy, adventuresome feeling and you can see a lot that’s going on in the river. As Kelso approached I closed the flight plan. The sun was setting, so I climbed to 4,500, and raised Seattle Center for flight following. We flight followed as dusk turned to darkness and very quickly were descending (as in, we were approaching Olympia and performed a controlled arrival descent).
The controller handed me off to Olympia tower, and with a firmer thud than I would have liked (but not excessive), we returned. A fun, pretty and successful flight.
The sunset photos cannot capture the richness of the various colors. Watching the sun set in the haze over the Columbia river was breathtaking and beautiful.
Video of the sunny day:
We had the plane scheduled for this afternoon and were debating several possibilities. We decided to fly over the hills to Astoria, and then up the Columbia to Kelso, and then back to Olympia. That would be about 1.5 hours in the air and we’d get back around when it got dark.
Because we wouldn’t be back late enough to renew night currency, I figured instead it would be a good opportunity to work with flight plans and flight following, both of which I haven’t been using on the recent trips as they have been shorter in distance or out of radar service areas.
I filed a flight plan from Olympia to Kelso via Astoria on V-187. After takeoff we opened the plan and then when we got to Astoria, I radio’d in to give a position report. I have heard of giving position reports but never tried it. Pretty easy.
Enroute to Astoria I had planed for 4,500 but as the hills approached I felt it was too low so we increased to 6,500, which felt like a good altitude. The sunlight directly in my eyes making distance judgments very hard was a contributing factor.
We descended over Astoria for a few minutes and enjoyed the sights, and then continued up toward Kelso with the sun setting behind us.
We then proceeded up the Columbia river at 2,500 with the hills bracketing us in. It’s a cozy, adventuresome feeling and you can see a lot that’s going on in the river. As Kelso approached I closed the flight plan. The sun was setting, so I climbed to 4,500, and raised Seattle Center for flight following. We flight followed as dusk turned to darkness and very quickly were descending (as in, we were approaching Olympia and performed a controlled arrival descent).
The controller handed me off to Olympia tower, and with a firmer thud than I would have liked (but not excessive), we returned. A fun, pretty and successful flight.
The sunset photos cannot capture the richness of the various colors. Watching the sun set in the haze over the Columbia river was breathtaking and beautiful.
Video of the sunny day:
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| Hiring Panel |
Hmm... Went to UW-T today for a hiring panel. We heard from four people, and reading between the lines didn’t paint a rosy picture.
Here’s the short, short version.
Person 1: We outsource almost all our coding overseas.
Person 2: Skills and abilities don’t influence hiring decisions, we just hire people that are friends of the managers.
Person 3: We hire programmers as temps for short term projects only. No “lifers”.
Person 4: Our demand and hiring of coders is low and decreasing. We plan to hire architects and managers.
Now to be fair this was just reading the negative bits. Lots of good information and advice too. The main advice points were things I already recommend, basically communication skills, teamwork skills, and a portfolio. There was also discussion on how to evaluate code quality and a pull between weak objective evaluation and strong subjective evaluation.
Here’s the short, short version.
Person 1: We outsource almost all our coding overseas.
Person 2: Skills and abilities don’t influence hiring decisions, we just hire people that are friends of the managers.
Person 3: We hire programmers as temps for short term projects only. No “lifers”.
Person 4: Our demand and hiring of coders is low and decreasing. We plan to hire architects and managers.
Now to be fair this was just reading the negative bits. Lots of good information and advice too. The main advice points were things I already recommend, basically communication skills, teamwork skills, and a portfolio. There was also discussion on how to evaluate code quality and a pull between weak objective evaluation and strong subjective evaluation.
|
| Obstacles |
I loaded the FAA airport database into SQL and, to test it out, ran a query to find out what the most common posted approach obstacles are. Here are the results verbatim:
TREES 3420
TREE 1623
ROAD 1263
POLE 403
PLINE 359
FENCE 339
BRUSH 155
BLDG 151
HILL 149
RR 103
GND 94
ANT 82
TOWER 58
CROPS 46
BERM 28
SIGN 20
POLES 17
OTHER 15
BOAT 15
TANK 13
STACK 10
HWY 8
TWR 6
MTN 6
PLINES 5
ACFT 5
POST 5
DIKE 4
RIDGE 4
STREET 4
BRDG 3
* 3
SILO 3
TREES-L 2
LEVEE 2
BRIDGE 2
SHIP 2
GROUND 2
TERRAIN 2
TRAIL 2
HGR 2
HILLS 2
VENT 1
LGT POLE 1
ELEV 1
PLINE POLE 1
TREES/ROAD 1
CRANE 1
VENT PIPE 1
BUSH 1
BANK 1
POLE HILL 1
PIER 1
LIGHT 1
DEER STAND 1
WINDCONE 1
SPRINKLER 1
DAM 1
TREES ROAD 1
WALL 1
BLDGS 1
LT STD 1
SPKLR 1
TREES/BRUSH 1
TOWER-L 1
DUNE 1
PLINE TREE 1
METHANE PIP 1
TREES HILL 1
TREES 3420
TREE 1623
ROAD 1263
POLE 403
PLINE 359
FENCE 339
BRUSH 155
BLDG 151
HILL 149
RR 103
GND 94
ANT 82
TOWER 58
CROPS 46
BERM 28
SIGN 20
POLES 17
OTHER 15
BOAT 15
TANK 13
STACK 10
HWY 8
TWR 6
MTN 6
PLINES 5
ACFT 5
POST 5
DIKE 4
RIDGE 4
STREET 4
BRDG 3
* 3
SILO 3
TREES-L 2
LEVEE 2
BRIDGE 2
SHIP 2
GROUND 2
TERRAIN 2
TRAIL 2
HGR 2
HILLS 2
VENT 1
LGT POLE 1
ELEV 1
PLINE POLE 1
TREES/ROAD 1
CRANE 1
VENT PIPE 1
BUSH 1
BANK 1
POLE HILL 1
PIER 1
LIGHT 1
DEER STAND 1
WINDCONE 1
SPRINKLER 1
DAM 1
TREES ROAD 1
WALL 1
BLDGS 1
LT STD 1
SPKLR 1
TREES/BRUSH 1
TOWER-L 1
DUNE 1
PLINE TREE 1
METHANE PIP 1
TREES HILL 1
|
| Days and Dinners |
Long days, lots of meetings. Our subcommittee came up with a good plan for certain kinds of small programs, but it was rejected. So back to the drawing board.
Today at lunch a lady was singing about how far women’s lib has come, about how women don’t have to stay in the home anymore. For her next song, she bemoaned how one person’s salary could no longer support a family. She didn’t seem to note any connection between those two.
Lisa made a nice dinner for us and I’m thoroughly stuffed.
On a discussion about nuclear power, someone wrote: “Nuclear power is like flying in an airplane: it used to be dangerous, and there are prominent examples of people dying . . . but it’s actually safe and sensible.”
This seems the best analogy I’ve heard about how nuclear power has improved.
Today at lunch a lady was singing about how far women’s lib has come, about how women don’t have to stay in the home anymore. For her next song, she bemoaned how one person’s salary could no longer support a family. She didn’t seem to note any connection between those two.
Lisa made a nice dinner for us and I’m thoroughly stuffed.
On a discussion about nuclear power, someone wrote: “Nuclear power is like flying in an airplane: it used to be dangerous, and there are prominent examples of people dying . . . but it’s actually safe and sensible.”
This seems the best analogy I’ve heard about how nuclear power has improved.
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| Valentine’s Day Photo |
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| What to do |
In less than a month I’ll receive notification of whether or not my paper was accepted to iticse 2010 in Turkey. The pricing on airfare and hotel is quite expensive, about $2000/person. And that’s just the fly there, stay inside, fly home cost. Actually, it would be more than that because the conference is in Ankara which is a connection from Istanbul, which is the destination I priced.
Comparatively, for $1200/person the same amount of time could be spent in the Bahamas, and for $900/person the same amount of time could be spent in Costa Rica.
Vacations aside, $1200/person could mean a brand new computer for both of us (we both need it), or some other interesting improvement.
Conclusion: I hope the paper gets accepted, but if it does, I still don’t think we’ll go to Turkey. I’ll pay the registration to get it in the official proceedings, but I don’t think I’ll be attending. Sorry conference people.
Comparatively, for $1200/person the same amount of time could be spent in the Bahamas, and for $900/person the same amount of time could be spent in Costa Rica.
Vacations aside, $1200/person could mean a brand new computer for both of us (we both need it), or some other interesting improvement.
Conclusion: I hope the paper gets accepted, but if it does, I still don’t think we’ll go to Turkey. I’ll pay the registration to get it in the official proceedings, but I don’t think I’ll be attending. Sorry conference people.
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| I feel bad about not posting here as much |
All my short updates go on facebook, and I don’t have time for long updates! egads.
|
| Exam |
Had a midterm today. Not sure why many students don’t seem to read the question. They copy info directly from the book that doesn’t answer the question, is just “about” one of the keywords in the question... One student had some attitude on the exam “these questions are so trivial” but then misapplied some techniques. Maybe not so trivial.
| 10 reasons gay marriage is wrong |
(found online)
01) Being gay is not natural. Real Americans always reject unnatural things like eyeglasses, polyester, and air conditioning.
02) Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.
03) Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.
04) Straight marriage has been around a long time and hasn’t changed at all; women are still property, blacks still can’t marry whites, and divorce is still illegal.
05) Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage were allowed; the sanctity of Britany Spears' 55-hour just-for-fun marriage would be destroyed.
06) Straight marriages are valid because they produce children. Gay couples, infertile couples, and old people shouldn’t be allowed to marry because our orphanages aren’t full yet, and the world needs more children.
07) Obviously gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.
0
Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That’s why we have only one religion in America.
09) Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That’s why we as a society expressly forbid single parents to raise children.
10) Gay marriage will change the foundation of society; we could never adapt to new social norms. Just like we haven’t adapted to cars, the service-sector economy, or longer life spans.
01) Being gay is not natural. Real Americans always reject unnatural things like eyeglasses, polyester, and air conditioning.
02) Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.
03) Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.
04) Straight marriage has been around a long time and hasn’t changed at all; women are still property, blacks still can’t marry whites, and divorce is still illegal.
05) Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage were allowed; the sanctity of Britany Spears' 55-hour just-for-fun marriage would be destroyed.
06) Straight marriages are valid because they produce children. Gay couples, infertile couples, and old people shouldn’t be allowed to marry because our orphanages aren’t full yet, and the world needs more children.
07) Obviously gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.
0
Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That’s why we have only one religion in America.09) Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That’s why we as a society expressly forbid single parents to raise children.
10) Gay marriage will change the foundation of society; we could never adapt to new social norms. Just like we haven’t adapted to cars, the service-sector economy, or longer life spans.
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| Day shift |
Lisa has moved back to day shift, so this helps the schedule. Hound is better after her hospital visit; the vets think it could be either pancreas attack or food poisoning. Another prof observed my math class today, she thought I did a good job. She liked my use of silence especially.
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| Learn something new every day |
One of the neat things about being a teacher is having the students teach me something. I learned two interesting things (one from the basic math class, and one from programming logic) in the past week or two:
1. Consider the case of fraction multiplication, such as
The usual technique calls for multiplying across top, across the bottom, and then simplifying... Simplify this:
Or don’t. Alternative technique: “pre-simplify” by identifying common factor on diagonals. In this case, 50 and 100 are both divisible by 50. Let’s divide both by 50. That’s easy:
That’s a much easier multiplication with much more reasonably sized result numbers to work with.
2. Two’s complement (signed integer representation for computers). The usual technique for finding the value of a two’s complement involves identifying if it is negative or positive, then doing the old “invert and add one” to get the absolute value. Then add up the binary place values.
10110101 is negative, so invert = 01001010, add one = 01001011, find value with usual power-of-two placeholders: (from right) 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128. so 1 + 2 + 8 + 64 = 75, but it was negative, so the original value is -75
Alternative technique: Consider the left-most value as negative. No special consideration for negative vs positive needed, no invert and add one. 10110101 with from the right placeholders: 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, -128. The left-most placeholder is simply called a negative. If the number is positive, this bit will be zero and the value not used. Take the placeholders as usual: 1 + 4 + 16 + 32 + -128 = -75
Both of these techniques are much easier than the way I’ve been doing it.
1. Consider the case of fraction multiplication, such as
73 50
– * –
100 26
The usual technique calls for multiplying across top, across the bottom, and then simplifying... Simplify this:
3650
—-
2600
Or don’t. Alternative technique: “pre-simplify” by identifying common factor on diagonals. In this case, 50 and 100 are both divisible by 50. Let’s divide both by 50. That’s easy:
73 1
– * –
2 26
That’s a much easier multiplication with much more reasonably sized result numbers to work with.
2. Two’s complement (signed integer representation for computers). The usual technique for finding the value of a two’s complement involves identifying if it is negative or positive, then doing the old “invert and add one” to get the absolute value. Then add up the binary place values.
10110101 is negative, so invert = 01001010, add one = 01001011, find value with usual power-of-two placeholders: (from right) 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128. so 1 + 2 + 8 + 64 = 75, but it was negative, so the original value is -75
Alternative technique: Consider the left-most value as negative. No special consideration for negative vs positive needed, no invert and add one. 10110101 with from the right placeholders: 1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, -128. The left-most placeholder is simply called a negative. If the number is positive, this bit will be zero and the value not used. Take the placeholders as usual: 1 + 4 + 16 + 32 + -128 = -75
Both of these techniques are much easier than the way I’ve been doing it.
|
| Misc Update |
Not much happening. Flight with Lisa over the weekend; had a nice night landing and investigated the parachute jumping place in Shelton. We want to fly up to Snohomish and watch the jumpers there; there is a restaurant at the airport with a deck for watching skydivers. Some Friday when the weather is good...
After this week Lisa returns to day shift. That should help a lot!
After this week Lisa returns to day shift. That should help a lot!
| Math conundrum |
So we were doing what appeared to be a simple division in class today (the math class), and I got stumped. I decided after to email one of the math instructors for assistance:
During class one of the students had the reason, and I could feel they were right, but there weren’t enough words to explain it.
I continued to think about it during the day, but couldn’t come up with the reason.
The instructor emailed back:
Consider the problem of a contractor with 48 acres building 1 ½ acre lots. How many lots can they build?
So the straightforward approach is 48 divided by 1 ½ which gives us 32.
An estimate of 1 acre lots gives 48 lots, and an estimate of 2 acre lots give 24 lots.
Now here’s where the weirdness happens. It seems that 1 ½ being half-way between 1 and 2, should mean that the answer is halfway between 48 and 24, as per the estimate. However, if we take 48 - 24 = 24, 24 / 2 = 12, 48 – 12 = 36
We get 36 lots, not 32.
It seems to be, and I expected, that these two techniques would give the same answer. I’m confident the division approach done first above is correct, but I can’t explain why the half-way estimation approach is wrong.
During class one of the students had the reason, and I could feel they were right, but there weren’t enough words to explain it.
I continued to think about it during the day, but couldn’t come up with the reason.
The instructor emailed back:
What a great question! I had to think about this a moment myself.
Here’s a way to think about this that might help.
Yes, indeed, 48 x 1 ½ is halfway between 48 x 1 and 48 x 2. But think about the divisions rewritten as multiplications.
48 divided by 1 = 48 x 1 = 48
48 divided by 1 ½ = 48 x 2/3 = 32
48 divided by 2 = 48 x ½ = 24
Since 2/3 is not halfway between ½ and 1, the product of 48 and 2/3 will not be halfway between.
Or to put it more succinctly, but not in terms your Basic Math students would understand; f(x) = 48 x is a linear function, but f(x) = 48/x is not a linear function.
If your class wants to investigate this further, you might have them draw grids and break these up into 1 ½ unit groups. For example, if you have six units, you can make 6 groups of 1 unit, or 3 groups of 2 units. But you can get 4 groups of 1 ½ units, which is not halfway between 3 and 6.
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| Breakfast in Hoquiam |
This morning Lisa and I decided to fly to Hoquiam to eat breakfast at the cafe there. It’s a short, easy flight but for whatever reason our specific goal of landing and eating at the cafe was always been thwarted in the past. The weather was questionable this morning; the reports were good but there were some low clouds in the hills. We took off and were able to make it out and back, and enjoy a nice breakfast. The Hoquiam airport was infested with Canada geese and I was concerned about a bird strike, but they stayed out of our way.
Lisa took some video during the flight.
Flight to Hoquiam part 1
Flight to Hoquiam part 2
Lisa took some video during the flight.
Flight to Hoquiam part 1
Flight to Hoquiam part 2
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| Uses for pomellos |
Lisa and I both have today off, so we were doing some errands and enjoying time. Later we will go up to Bellevue to celebrate John’s birthday. I’m getting into a pattern for all my classes but waking so early is still very hard. After some consideration, I told the chair that if someone else wanted the 7am spring term they could have it... It’s just too early for me. So we’ll see...
Hottub leak returned. May have to attempt sealing again.
Another siding soft spot found; probably will wait until we have several contractor to-do items before attempting to have it fixed. Probably would be a waste to have him come out for one little thing.
Hottub leak returned. May have to attempt sealing again.
Another siding soft spot found; probably will wait until we have several contractor to-do items before attempting to have it fixed. Probably would be a waste to have him come out for one little thing.
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| Night Currency |
As part of getting my certificate, I took one required night flight with my instructor. We flew to Kelso and back and did our 10 full stop landings (all but one at Olympia). That taught me that night flight was possible, but I wouldn’t have said I was comfortable and I never did a night flight on my own.
I decided I wanted to take another night flight to increase my comfort level, so I scheduled with another instructor (my original instructor doesn’t usually work evenings) to get currency. Using a Christmas giftcard, I had purchased a red/white headlamp specifically for night flight use.
The weather started out fine, with high ceilings around six to nine thousand; but the rain started as I arrived at the airport and I could see a little bit of mist around the hills. The temperature dropped to meet the dewpoint, but no fog formed yet. Icing and turbulence were both airmet'ed starting at the surface. I didn’t believe the icing airmet because surface temperatures were significantly above freezing.
I talked to the instructor and was surprised (not really, actually) to hear him say the weather was good. In the same breath he also asked if I had actual instrument condition experience and said he had all his IFR approach plates.
I preflighted the plane using the headlamp’s white light. It worked great. We were quickly fueled and ready to go. We waited briefly for the required one hour after sunset to arrive.
We departed from Olympia first to Tacoma Narrows. The air was slightly bumpy. We climbed to 3,000 feet and discussed our navigation. Rain was streaming off the windshield but visibility was good and soon I saw the airport beacon. I mentioned that one of the things I wanted to ask about was making an approach if your landing light burns out. In my original training we never did make a night landing without the landing light.
At that prompt, he shut off the landing light and the panel lights. “Electrical failure,” he noted. I turned on my red headlamp (glorious) and he talked about how great headlamps were for night flying. I was nervous for the approach because I was taught to flare at night using the markings reflected in the landing light... Without it, how to flare?
He showed me that with the runway edge lights on, you can start to see the runway when you are at about 50 feet, and I was able to land without trouble.
Next we went out to Shelton. The wind was out of the northeast (but very light) which would normally indicate runway 5. However, only runway 23 has a visual glide slope indicator, so I told him I planned to use runway 23. He agreed that was the right choice, but then said that it would be better training to use the runway without.
I had never landed at night without a visual glide slope indicator.
I also found that the area west of the airport, where the pattern for runway 5 was, was completely dark on the ground. There were also known hills (which we could not see). This is called a “black hole” approach where all you can see is the runway edge lights and nothing else. Flying a black hole approach in an unfamiliar area is how pilots get killed.
He talked me through the approach, which ends up similar to an engine trouble approach where you fly the pattern high and come down steep. We ended doing three landings on the Shelton pattern to practice the black hole approach. They weren’t the smoothest landings ever, but they certainly worked. I should mention that these landings too were made without landing or panel lights.
The extra tool for these approaches was the altimeter. We knew the field elevation and used the altimeter to judge our place in the pattern and also our threshold crossing height, which was higher than normal at 100-150 feet.
It was raining most of the time, and we could see the rain streaking off the windshield. One time while we were in the pattern the instructor turned on the landing light ("Let’s see if we can see any terrain") but it just illuminated a grey blob of rain. The landing light actually made things worse. He quickly turned it off.
For our final landing we returned to Olympia. I flew an indirect route; east and then south, to avoid the poorly lit hills. We intercepted the ILS (instrument landing system - a glide slope indicator in the cockpit) and the instructor showed me how to use the DME hold option (which had previously just been trouble) to assist with using the ILS.
For this landing he turned on the panel and landing lights. Ironically, perhaps because I had become accustomed to the darker landings, the final landing at Olympia was the most jarring and abrupt of all.
As we taxi’d back to the ramp, I told him that after this lesson, I would actually feel comfortable flying at night. Very much a worthwhile lesson.
I decided I wanted to take another night flight to increase my comfort level, so I scheduled with another instructor (my original instructor doesn’t usually work evenings) to get currency. Using a Christmas giftcard, I had purchased a red/white headlamp specifically for night flight use.
The weather started out fine, with high ceilings around six to nine thousand; but the rain started as I arrived at the airport and I could see a little bit of mist around the hills. The temperature dropped to meet the dewpoint, but no fog formed yet. Icing and turbulence were both airmet'ed starting at the surface. I didn’t believe the icing airmet because surface temperatures were significantly above freezing.
I talked to the instructor and was surprised (not really, actually) to hear him say the weather was good. In the same breath he also asked if I had actual instrument condition experience and said he had all his IFR approach plates.
I preflighted the plane using the headlamp’s white light. It worked great. We were quickly fueled and ready to go. We waited briefly for the required one hour after sunset to arrive.
We departed from Olympia first to Tacoma Narrows. The air was slightly bumpy. We climbed to 3,000 feet and discussed our navigation. Rain was streaming off the windshield but visibility was good and soon I saw the airport beacon. I mentioned that one of the things I wanted to ask about was making an approach if your landing light burns out. In my original training we never did make a night landing without the landing light.
At that prompt, he shut off the landing light and the panel lights. “Electrical failure,” he noted. I turned on my red headlamp (glorious) and he talked about how great headlamps were for night flying. I was nervous for the approach because I was taught to flare at night using the markings reflected in the landing light... Without it, how to flare?
He showed me that with the runway edge lights on, you can start to see the runway when you are at about 50 feet, and I was able to land without trouble.
Next we went out to Shelton. The wind was out of the northeast (but very light) which would normally indicate runway 5. However, only runway 23 has a visual glide slope indicator, so I told him I planned to use runway 23. He agreed that was the right choice, but then said that it would be better training to use the runway without.
I had never landed at night without a visual glide slope indicator.
I also found that the area west of the airport, where the pattern for runway 5 was, was completely dark on the ground. There were also known hills (which we could not see). This is called a “black hole” approach where all you can see is the runway edge lights and nothing else. Flying a black hole approach in an unfamiliar area is how pilots get killed.
He talked me through the approach, which ends up similar to an engine trouble approach where you fly the pattern high and come down steep. We ended doing three landings on the Shelton pattern to practice the black hole approach. They weren’t the smoothest landings ever, but they certainly worked. I should mention that these landings too were made without landing or panel lights.
The extra tool for these approaches was the altimeter. We knew the field elevation and used the altimeter to judge our place in the pattern and also our threshold crossing height, which was higher than normal at 100-150 feet.
It was raining most of the time, and we could see the rain streaking off the windshield. One time while we were in the pattern the instructor turned on the landing light ("Let’s see if we can see any terrain") but it just illuminated a grey blob of rain. The landing light actually made things worse. He quickly turned it off.
For our final landing we returned to Olympia. I flew an indirect route; east and then south, to avoid the poorly lit hills. We intercepted the ILS (instrument landing system - a glide slope indicator in the cockpit) and the instructor showed me how to use the DME hold option (which had previously just been trouble) to assist with using the ILS.
For this landing he turned on the panel and landing lights. Ironically, perhaps because I had become accustomed to the darker landings, the final landing at Olympia was the most jarring and abrupt of all.
As we taxi’d back to the ramp, I told him that after this lesson, I would actually feel comfortable flying at night. Very much a worthwhile lesson.
