The FAA asked me where my counties of preference are.
Palm Beach County, Florida
Why Palm Beach? I'm already here. No need to make a hard move. The towered airport under FAA control (i.e. not outsourced, like Boca Raton Airport) is Palm Beach International.
Martin County, Florida
I'm just south of there...the only towered facility there that is under FAA control is Stuart Airport/Witham Field.
Ventura County, California
Back in my home state, but away from LAX's Class B Airspace. The likely picks are Camarillo and Santa Barbara.
Los Angeles County, California
Some of the busiest airspace in the world, between LAX and Van Nuys Airport. Other airports that may become my second home are Santa Monica (where I started my flying), Torrance (where I was introduced to General Aviation), Hawthorne, and Long Beach.
I never thought I would be considered, as I still don't fit all the minimum requirements (a college degree in any field and a full-time job that I have held for at least two years).
I got furloughed from US Airways last year. Nearing a year away from the airlines. I worked part-time there. I slipped out of Embry-Riddle as I didn't take a class in two years (part-time with student loans from my previous school, Everglades University, held me back, and still are somewhat). I started working for a printing company/retailer about 45 days after getting the boot from the airline. I started full-time. However, I still haven't returned to school.
If I do get the job, however, I hope I can get third shift. Although it's the hardest shift, it will allow me to fulfill my responsibilities during the day without affecting my schedule. But, we have yet to see.
Regardless of the outcome with becoming an air traffic controller, I have formally dismissed the goal of becoming an airline pilot. I have become too old to compete (I know guys younger than me...albeit richer than I am...who are already flying jets, if they survived not getting furloughed).
I will keep you posted on the outcome.
Alejandro Maclean passed away this past Tuesday. He died in an accident while practicing aerobatics. His support and contagious love for flying will truly be missed. I wrote a posthumous poem to Alejandro and posted it on my poetry blog, as well as linked it to Alejandro's Facebook profile and fan page. You can read it here at GolfNovemberPoetry ("Para Don Alejandro", written in Spanish, his native language).
Te veo pronto, Don Alejandro.
A California Pilot's perspective on travel, technology, the world, and more importantly, aviation
Showing posts with label Santa Monica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Santa Monica. Show all posts
22 August 2010
12 January 2009
Hmmm, add "novelist" to my repertoire?
I had this strange idea a few years ago of becoming a writer. My angst was building, it was just after I moved to Florida, and I had to let it out somewhere. So, I wrote a book, which is still in my hard drive, tentatively titled "Fly, Young Pilot, Live". I was in the middle of opening doors to aviation. I was in a flight training slump, looking for work, and going to school. And I wrote the main character, whom I named "John Allendale", to be modeled after myself; US-born of hispanic heritage with an Anglo-Saxon name, obsessed over flight, immersed in reggae music, stuck without a girlfriend when the desire to be loved blossomed into a furious love for someone, crossroads in life, longing to return to California (his home state), and making it big in aviation. I'm not sure if it will be a hit, but either way, it's worth a stab.
But, none of you ever heard of the book, as it is still in my hard drive. And in a computer that does not work anymore. Genius me, I never saved it on a disk. But I still have the hard drive, and it's still in working order, so it's just a matter of extracting the file (among others). Will I call a publisher to get the book out? I'm not sure. I'm not even familiar in the process. But it's a matter of tracking down a social studies teacher I had in high school, whom I just found out had retired recently. His name is Pete Justus, and his book is a compilation of poems, titled "Truths Taps and Time". I had the privilege of having him for history in my 10th and 11th grades at Westchester High School (Go Comets!). I'm aware that he does poetry readings at a place in Santa Monica called "The Rapp Saloon". It's a place I intend visiting this June, when I go on vacation back to the place I belong (all the while, looking for an opportunity to live there once again). And although we had our disagreements when November rolled around (he graduated from UCLA, and my intent at the time was to attend USC), all that was put aside when we started talking about one common passion: Corvettes. I wish to own one someday, even if it's one from the 1980s. They're all workable. It's just a matter of modding the car until it's your own. He owns a dark blue C-5 Vette, with UCLA plates gracing the front and back. But it's a stickshift, as all Corvettes should be.
Look up my friend's book, "Truth Taps and Time" at your local bookstore, or at any large online book retailer. And look for Mr. Pete Justus at the Rapp Saloon at 1436 2nd Street, Santa Monica, California. He's a great guy, and if you get him started on Corvette heritage, you'll be there for hours, as I have not too long ago.
Blue Skies.
Last Minute Addition: Be sure to check out his poem "My Hometown". It's a very nice poem, even if it is from one of the "Boys from Westwood".
But, none of you ever heard of the book, as it is still in my hard drive. And in a computer that does not work anymore. Genius me, I never saved it on a disk. But I still have the hard drive, and it's still in working order, so it's just a matter of extracting the file (among others). Will I call a publisher to get the book out? I'm not sure. I'm not even familiar in the process. But it's a matter of tracking down a social studies teacher I had in high school, whom I just found out had retired recently. His name is Pete Justus, and his book is a compilation of poems, titled "Truths Taps and Time". I had the privilege of having him for history in my 10th and 11th grades at Westchester High School (Go Comets!). I'm aware that he does poetry readings at a place in Santa Monica called "The Rapp Saloon". It's a place I intend visiting this June, when I go on vacation back to the place I belong (all the while, looking for an opportunity to live there once again). And although we had our disagreements when November rolled around (he graduated from UCLA, and my intent at the time was to attend USC), all that was put aside when we started talking about one common passion: Corvettes. I wish to own one someday, even if it's one from the 1980s. They're all workable. It's just a matter of modding the car until it's your own. He owns a dark blue C-5 Vette, with UCLA plates gracing the front and back. But it's a stickshift, as all Corvettes should be.
Look up my friend's book, "Truth Taps and Time" at your local bookstore, or at any large online book retailer. And look for Mr. Pete Justus at the Rapp Saloon at 1436 2nd Street, Santa Monica, California. He's a great guy, and if you get him started on Corvette heritage, you'll be there for hours, as I have not too long ago.
Blue Skies.
Last Minute Addition: Be sure to check out his poem "My Hometown". It's a very nice poem, even if it is from one of the "Boys from Westwood".
Labels:
aviation,
high school,
learning,
life,
Longing,
Los Angeles,
love,
Rapp Saloon,
Santa Monica,
Southern California,
West LA
28 November 2008
Staying in Florida for the foreseeable future...
Initially, I wanted to move to Florida. Being close to family that I was never around, excellent opportunities for flight training, I mean, how bad could it get?
I was never fond of the weather, but it was a great place to visit.
My family moved to Florida the day after my graduation from high school, making me the only one in my generation of the Newball family to have had all his schooling in the Los Angeles Unified School District (which in spite of its shortfalls, is considerably superior to what Florida could ever offer). Regardless, I saw moving to Florida as a new horizon to cross. It was a transitional period anyway. High school to the unknown world (at the time), childhood to manhood, and from land-based person to pilot.
Once here, however, things didn't go as planned.
Part of our welcoming committee were two strong hurricanes that damaged the house my family had just bought. Companies that did repairs on the house did a cut-and-run job. They did a job halfway (quality-wise), charged an arm and a leg, and when trying to settle a charge, they were nowhere to be found. The company "folded", and the business owners disappeared from the face of the planet. 'Stick it to the customer' mentality, what I like to call the 'Florida' mentality.
I was listening a few years ago to a talk show host from the West Palm Beach area, who is originally from Northern California, and was shocked at how people manage to live in this state, with its low pay, and lower quality of life than what the West Coast offers. He later added that he enjoys living here.
I failed to see his logic.
I come from a city that never sleeps. I can literally, jump in the car, and find something to do, or get a midnight bite, or whatever comes to mind. In Florida, everything dies just after sunset. Nothing to do. My co-workers tell me about locations in downtown West Palm Beach, and I drive by them, with hardly any life. Is this what people call "fun"?
The transition has been so hard, one of my sisters became lactose intolerant (brought on by post-traumatic stress from the hurricanes), and I have become considerably more aggressive and, dare I say, paranoid (the former requires me to hold myself back at work). Something I never felt in California. And, my entire family agrees that it was the worst mistake we ever made.
Yes, it is something I now regret deeply and painfully.
We tried selling the house, but with the housing bubble bursting right as we were planning to move back, we were tied down to Florida. Stuck in the armpit of the universe.
But you take the bad with the good. I started attending Embry-Riddle, and I am working for an airline. I am doing what I can to wrap myself in that while I stay here. But once I get a better paying job, I am moving back to California. All my friends that have left LA regret that decision. And I agree with them. Los Angeles is home.
I'm a proud 'Angeleno'. I will do what I can to get back. Come hell of high water, I'm going back one way or another. My heart is still there, and I can't live without it.
Now to listen to some music that tugs at my heartstrings with California on my mind...
Jacob Wheeler - Magic (original, and instrumental)
Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass - Route 101
Randy Newman - I Love LA
George Strait - Marina Del Rey
Hall and Oates - Man on a Mission
Bob Marley and the Wailers - Satisfy My Soul
Hall and Oates - Life's Too Short
I was never fond of the weather, but it was a great place to visit.
My family moved to Florida the day after my graduation from high school, making me the only one in my generation of the Newball family to have had all his schooling in the Los Angeles Unified School District (which in spite of its shortfalls, is considerably superior to what Florida could ever offer). Regardless, I saw moving to Florida as a new horizon to cross. It was a transitional period anyway. High school to the unknown world (at the time), childhood to manhood, and from land-based person to pilot.
Once here, however, things didn't go as planned.
Part of our welcoming committee were two strong hurricanes that damaged the house my family had just bought. Companies that did repairs on the house did a cut-and-run job. They did a job halfway (quality-wise), charged an arm and a leg, and when trying to settle a charge, they were nowhere to be found. The company "folded", and the business owners disappeared from the face of the planet. 'Stick it to the customer' mentality, what I like to call the 'Florida' mentality.
I was listening a few years ago to a talk show host from the West Palm Beach area, who is originally from Northern California, and was shocked at how people manage to live in this state, with its low pay, and lower quality of life than what the West Coast offers. He later added that he enjoys living here.
I failed to see his logic.
I come from a city that never sleeps. I can literally, jump in the car, and find something to do, or get a midnight bite, or whatever comes to mind. In Florida, everything dies just after sunset. Nothing to do. My co-workers tell me about locations in downtown West Palm Beach, and I drive by them, with hardly any life. Is this what people call "fun"?
The transition has been so hard, one of my sisters became lactose intolerant (brought on by post-traumatic stress from the hurricanes), and I have become considerably more aggressive and, dare I say, paranoid (the former requires me to hold myself back at work). Something I never felt in California. And, my entire family agrees that it was the worst mistake we ever made.
Yes, it is something I now regret deeply and painfully.
We tried selling the house, but with the housing bubble bursting right as we were planning to move back, we were tied down to Florida. Stuck in the armpit of the universe.
But you take the bad with the good. I started attending Embry-Riddle, and I am working for an airline. I am doing what I can to wrap myself in that while I stay here. But once I get a better paying job, I am moving back to California. All my friends that have left LA regret that decision. And I agree with them. Los Angeles is home.
I'm a proud 'Angeleno'. I will do what I can to get back. Come hell of high water, I'm going back one way or another. My heart is still there, and I can't live without it.
Now to listen to some music that tugs at my heartstrings with California on my mind...
Jacob Wheeler - Magic (original, and instrumental)
Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass - Route 101
Randy Newman - I Love LA
George Strait - Marina Del Rey
Hall and Oates - Man on a Mission
Bob Marley and the Wailers - Satisfy My Soul
Hall and Oates - Life's Too Short
Labels:
Angst,
California,
Culver City,
desire,
dream,
Longing,
Los Angeles,
love,
Santa Monica,
Southern California,
West LA
12 November 2008
Airport improvement. Evil, or is there actually a reason behind it?
"Not In My Backyard!" is the mantra of people who refuse to have something bigger than them displace them or affect them in any matter (even in a positive way, which they tend to blind themselves from). In some circumstances, I wholeheartedly agree with their stance. I wouldn't want sexual predators living near me or my neighbors. Nor would I want railroad tracks be set near my house (if my house was there before, then they can find somewhere else to lay tracks).
But there are some things that people tend to rally against. One such thing is the local airport.
I have seen people start rallies to close the local airport down (if you're in Chicago, don't worry. Mayor Richard Daley is WAY ahead of you in that department! I think you should worry about STOPPING him). People say that airports bring a lot of noise, and a lot of pollution. People say that houses near airports lose value because of the noise, and that it shouldn't be that way.
But lets go back to the beginning of the problem. Why live near an airport?
In spite of my disdain for the region I live in, I am happy that I live close to an airport. For me, it's comforting to hear a whirling propeller overhead. In fact, if I hear a propeller that sounds different (say, a different engine tone, or a different prop RPM), I'll run to the window, waiting to see if it's something special, like some sort of aerobatic or experimental airplane, or a classic Stearman biplane, or an older model twin.
But I digress.
Here's the issue. People nowadays tend to be myopic. They see what is only in front of them, and whatever comes into view unexpectedly will startle them and anger them, like a little dog seeing a bird fly from the bush he's sniffing. "Out of my tree!" he barks, then goes back to sniffing. "Not in my backyard" the neighbor cries, and then goes back to his business.
Those people are like those working to shut down Santa Monica Airport. A group of myopic individuals who seek only their personal gain, rather than the gain of the community. The airport neighbors that are noisier than the aircraft causing all the "noise".
People tend to forget all the gains that are made in aviation each day. Technology is getting better in aircraft and engine design to reduce pollution (noise and carbon) and more importantly, increase safety. Pilot training is at its best, and continues to improve. And the ancillary costs to run an aviation operation, such as a flight school, or a fixed-base operator, or an airline serving the community, and all the infrastructure that must be built and maintained brings jobs to the community. People should be thankful that they have an airport near them.
These people forget that airports bring important jobs, especially nowadays in this economy. Airports bring money, BIG money into the community! They're not there to cause a big raucous above your house. They're here for a reason, be it to train, or to work, or to sign a deal with a local business. Airports really ARE your friends.
Of course, why did you move under the approach path of a runway? You didn't see those planes flying over you?
Reminds me about work one day. One customer at the baggage office went to complain that his wine bottles in a poorly packed bag broke, and wanted the airline to pay for it. After being asked why he packed the bottles in that manner, he said "so if they break, the airline could pay for it". Like him, complainers of airport proximity, and the non-aviation-savvy general public as a whole, share the same logic. "I'm going to buy this house. And I'll get that airport to go away after I move in. That'll increase the value of my house!" Sorry, the airport was there before you were. The airport has the right to stay and if necessary, expand if the need arises.
Today, in West Palm Beach, Florida, the county held a "public workshop" regarding the FAA's findings on extending or moving a runway at Palm Beach International. More of which can be read here (please advise via email if the link is dead).
West Palm Beach mayor Lois Frankel believes that traffic is decreasing at Palm Beach International. She believes there is no purpose in extending the runway. She feels that because of the rising cost of fuel and air travel, as well as the current economic state has decreased traffic, apparently so much so that it will effectively kill any justification for extending a runway (I'm guessing she doesn't want the hassle of complainers of airport proximity calling her office since her hands would be effectively be tied regarding the situation).
The FAA believes, however, that an alternative would be to build a new airport, a "green airport" (an airport build out of green space, like a large empty field, like Denver International Airport, though nowadays, "green" will also refer to reducing carbon footprints, and conserving energy, and all that jazz). I'm for that as well. However, people need to realize that there is a huge need for airports in a National Airspace System that is becoming saturated.
The solution is to build more runways. Not user-fees, not auctioning landing and departure slots to the highest bidder, but adding runways to add the capacity for more traffic.
There are many other solutions, but limiting airports to a level that is not near their greatest potential, or closing airports for the gain of only a small group of people. For the convenience and "peace" of a few hundred people at the departure and arrival ends of an airport that has closed, would it really be worth losing literally thousands of jobs from outlying communities? Or what about losing all of that influx of money from those noisy "big wigs" in their corporate jets going to YOUR area to make big business deals that would benefit your community? Think about why they are in your community. It's your airport!
That's why I urge my readers to visit http://www.aopa.org/asn/ to see AOPA's efforts in supporting your local airports. Airports of all sizes need protection. Though some airports are thriving with the support of their communities, there are others that are not as fortunate. Airports like Santa Monica Airport, are in danger of having their operations severely limited, if not closed altogether.
Just as how it's my airport, it's there for YOUR use as well. Just as how it's my airport, it's also your interest to be protected!
Some airport authorities are providing free soundproofing to homes that are affected by airport noise. If you are that irritated by airport noise (or porbably more accurately, that stubborn to move), give your local airport authority a call. For example, as a good gesture, Los Angeles World Airports is offering free home soundproofing to airport neighbors of LA International, LA/Van Nuys, LA/Palmdale, and LA/Ontario airports. The City of Los Angeles is offering this service to its citizens (I keep stressing this, because airport neighbor/NIMBYs have lashed out at this gesture of good will towards them). Rather than fight the airport, you should help your airport improve. Be a good citizen and work hand in hand with your local airport authority.
I am willing to do whatever aviation asks of me (my personal mantra, similar to John F. Kennedy's quote, is "Ask not what aviation can do for you, but what you can do for aviation!"). People, we have taken so much for granted in aviation. And we have even dared to impose our wants on aviation. It's high time we return the gracious favor that aviation has given us. Work with local pilots at airport open houses. Work in conjunction, rather than fight against, your local airport authority. A symbiotic relationship between the airport and its neighbors is not only possible, but is happening now!
Airports like Palm Beach County Park Airport (Gassaway Field, previously known as Lantana), have such a relationship. It's not perfect, but both the airport neighbors (of which I am one) and the airport live peacefully in coexistence. The airport neighbors do not list the airport as one of the worries of the neighborhood. And, people, that's what it's all about! Though it isn't ideal (the airport has not held any type of large-scale open-house event, no less an airshow, where a large volume of volunteer work exists), it's getting there. There should be more public awareness of aviation. Just like our roads, airports are there to serve ALL of us. Airports are probably the most important neighbor we will have.
But there are some things that people tend to rally against. One such thing is the local airport.
I have seen people start rallies to close the local airport down (if you're in Chicago, don't worry. Mayor Richard Daley is WAY ahead of you in that department! I think you should worry about STOPPING him). People say that airports bring a lot of noise, and a lot of pollution. People say that houses near airports lose value because of the noise, and that it shouldn't be that way.
But lets go back to the beginning of the problem. Why live near an airport?
In spite of my disdain for the region I live in, I am happy that I live close to an airport. For me, it's comforting to hear a whirling propeller overhead. In fact, if I hear a propeller that sounds different (say, a different engine tone, or a different prop RPM), I'll run to the window, waiting to see if it's something special, like some sort of aerobatic or experimental airplane, or a classic Stearman biplane, or an older model twin.
But I digress.
Here's the issue. People nowadays tend to be myopic. They see what is only in front of them, and whatever comes into view unexpectedly will startle them and anger them, like a little dog seeing a bird fly from the bush he's sniffing. "Out of my tree!" he barks, then goes back to sniffing. "Not in my backyard" the neighbor cries, and then goes back to his business.
Those people are like those working to shut down Santa Monica Airport. A group of myopic individuals who seek only their personal gain, rather than the gain of the community. The airport neighbors that are noisier than the aircraft causing all the "noise".
People tend to forget all the gains that are made in aviation each day. Technology is getting better in aircraft and engine design to reduce pollution (noise and carbon) and more importantly, increase safety. Pilot training is at its best, and continues to improve. And the ancillary costs to run an aviation operation, such as a flight school, or a fixed-base operator, or an airline serving the community, and all the infrastructure that must be built and maintained brings jobs to the community. People should be thankful that they have an airport near them.
These people forget that airports bring important jobs, especially nowadays in this economy. Airports bring money, BIG money into the community! They're not there to cause a big raucous above your house. They're here for a reason, be it to train, or to work, or to sign a deal with a local business. Airports really ARE your friends.
Of course, why did you move under the approach path of a runway? You didn't see those planes flying over you?
Reminds me about work one day. One customer at the baggage office went to complain that his wine bottles in a poorly packed bag broke, and wanted the airline to pay for it. After being asked why he packed the bottles in that manner, he said "so if they break, the airline could pay for it". Like him, complainers of airport proximity, and the non-aviation-savvy general public as a whole, share the same logic. "I'm going to buy this house. And I'll get that airport to go away after I move in. That'll increase the value of my house!" Sorry, the airport was there before you were. The airport has the right to stay and if necessary, expand if the need arises.
Today, in West Palm Beach, Florida, the county held a "public workshop" regarding the FAA's findings on extending or moving a runway at Palm Beach International. More of which can be read here (please advise via email if the link is dead).
West Palm Beach mayor Lois Frankel believes that traffic is decreasing at Palm Beach International. She believes there is no purpose in extending the runway. She feels that because of the rising cost of fuel and air travel, as well as the current economic state has decreased traffic, apparently so much so that it will effectively kill any justification for extending a runway (I'm guessing she doesn't want the hassle of complainers of airport proximity calling her office since her hands would be effectively be tied regarding the situation).
The FAA believes, however, that an alternative would be to build a new airport, a "green airport" (an airport build out of green space, like a large empty field, like Denver International Airport, though nowadays, "green" will also refer to reducing carbon footprints, and conserving energy, and all that jazz). I'm for that as well. However, people need to realize that there is a huge need for airports in a National Airspace System that is becoming saturated.
The solution is to build more runways. Not user-fees, not auctioning landing and departure slots to the highest bidder, but adding runways to add the capacity for more traffic.
There are many other solutions, but limiting airports to a level that is not near their greatest potential, or closing airports for the gain of only a small group of people. For the convenience and "peace" of a few hundred people at the departure and arrival ends of an airport that has closed, would it really be worth losing literally thousands of jobs from outlying communities? Or what about losing all of that influx of money from those noisy "big wigs" in their corporate jets going to YOUR area to make big business deals that would benefit your community? Think about why they are in your community. It's your airport!
That's why I urge my readers to visit http://www.aopa.org/asn/ to see AOPA's efforts in supporting your local airports. Airports of all sizes need protection. Though some airports are thriving with the support of their communities, there are others that are not as fortunate. Airports like Santa Monica Airport, are in danger of having their operations severely limited, if not closed altogether.
Just as how it's my airport, it's there for YOUR use as well. Just as how it's my airport, it's also your interest to be protected!
Some airport authorities are providing free soundproofing to homes that are affected by airport noise. If you are that irritated by airport noise (or porbably more accurately, that stubborn to move), give your local airport authority a call. For example, as a good gesture, Los Angeles World Airports is offering free home soundproofing to airport neighbors of LA International, LA/Van Nuys, LA/Palmdale, and LA/Ontario airports. The City of Los Angeles is offering this service to its citizens (I keep stressing this, because airport neighbor/NIMBYs have lashed out at this gesture of good will towards them). Rather than fight the airport, you should help your airport improve. Be a good citizen and work hand in hand with your local airport authority.
I am willing to do whatever aviation asks of me (my personal mantra, similar to John F. Kennedy's quote, is "Ask not what aviation can do for you, but what you can do for aviation!"). People, we have taken so much for granted in aviation. And we have even dared to impose our wants on aviation. It's high time we return the gracious favor that aviation has given us. Work with local pilots at airport open houses. Work in conjunction, rather than fight against, your local airport authority. A symbiotic relationship between the airport and its neighbors is not only possible, but is happening now!
Airports like Palm Beach County Park Airport (Gassaway Field, previously known as Lantana), have such a relationship. It's not perfect, but both the airport neighbors (of which I am one) and the airport live peacefully in coexistence. The airport neighbors do not list the airport as one of the worries of the neighborhood. And, people, that's what it's all about! Though it isn't ideal (the airport has not held any type of large-scale open-house event, no less an airshow, where a large volume of volunteer work exists), it's getting there. There should be more public awareness of aviation. Just like our roads, airports are there to serve ALL of us. Airports are probably the most important neighbor we will have.
20 October 2008
Memories of Flight...
Santa Monica Municipal Airport (SMO) is one of the oldest airports in the Los Angeles area, starting its existence as Clover Field (a park just north of the airport bears the same name, as well as reflecting the previous location of the single runway). It is also, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful airports in the world (though all airports are beautiful in their own ways, those airports in the LA Area are just a little more elegant, from what I've seen). The first round-the-world flight initiated there shortly after World War I, conducted by the US Army on Douglas biplanes. Speaking of Douglas Aircraft, their beginnings were in Santa Monica, where the legendary DC-3, the airplane that paved the way to modern airline travel, was built. It is also the home bases for celebrities who are also pilots (Harrison Ford, Kenny G, and Angelina Jolie, to name a few). It also used to be my home base.

Though I had been reading endlessly about flying throughout my life for as long as I can remember reading, I officially started my flight training back in 2003. I was a high school senior at the time. My dad knew of my interest in flying from when I was barely able to walk, since he first took me to Santa Monica Municipal Airport when I was just starting to walk, so when I turned 17, and after attending a week-long educational "immersion" of sorts into aviation (LAX ACE Academy) run by Los Angeles World Airports, he felt I was ready to start flying.
At first, I was apprehensive. Not because I had fear of flying. But because I was quite aware of the cost that flying would incur. I was not in any type of "work-study" program at work, and no company at SMO was willing to hire a high-school student with no work experience who would work for cheap flight time (that's when I concluded that such opportunities were too good to be true). I didn't want my parents to pay for flying. It was something that I wanted to do when I felt I was ready to do it. But, hey, twist my arm, I'll go flying.
3 December 2003. Justice Aviation. Santa Monica Airport. Just a few days before, my dad and I set an appointment to fly on this day with a CFI named Holly. If you could imagine an attractive woman with fabulous red hair with the biggest heart, she would be what comes to mind. She is also one of the most professional pilots I have met.
That day, we flew for the first time. I flew for the first time.
Preflight. I remembered a few aspects from ACE Academy, when we did a walkaround on a Piper Cherokee based at SMO. This time around, it was in a relatively new Cessna 172 SkyHawk with a Bendix/King GPS and radio stack. Check fuel, make sure it's 100LL (blue), and that it is free of water and contaminants, check flight control surfaces, and general aircraft condition. Then I climbed in. She said, "You'll take the left seat." That's when my heart began to race (and no, it wasn't hormones that was causing my heart to race, in spite of my adolescence).
We started the engine, and Holly called Santa Monica Ground. We started to taxi to the runup area. She had already knew that I had a good idea of what was going on, and that I wasn't a typical zero-hour student (I had hundreds of hours in Microsoft's Flight Simulator flying under my belt). I already knew that when taxiing a light plane, it's done with your feet, on the rudder pedals. I was able to maintain centerline for most of the way there. Speed control, however, was a different story. Being new to flying, I was taxiing slowly, not at that "brisk walk" speed that is recommended, but more at a "relaxed crawl". But I quickly learned taxiing.
Runup. We moved the throttle forward to an elevated power level. We checked the magnetos, and the engine instruments to make sure everything was in working order. I checked the flight controls. Ailerons, rudder, and elevator were all moved to verify correct movement and ease of travel. I remember seeing a black Pitts Special biplane next to us. And I remember that goofy smile I felt on my face when I saw it. Then, I remembered, I am flying a plane...worry about the task at hand. After verifying everything on the checklist, Holly then called Santa Monica Ground.

"Santa Monica Ground, Cessna 2251 Zulu, ready to taxi to Runway 21 from Southeast Runup Area."
The ground controller replied, "Cessna 2251 Zulu, Santa Monica Ground, taxi to and hold short Runway 21." Holly, then read back the controller's transmission. And with that, we taxied toward Runway 21.
Runway 21 is at approximately at the magnetic heading of 210 degrees. This would aim us towards the Pacific Ocean. And it would mark the official beginning of my aeronautical life. Everything I did up to that point, I had been in an egg, being incubated, waiting to hatch. And this was the moment that I would break out from that shell, and spread my wings for the first time.
We lined up after getting clearance to position and hold. A helicopter was hovering over the runway, and was "taxiing" to one of the FBOs on the north side (well, more like hovering with a litle forward motion). We got clearance to take off, and Holly talked me through the takeoff. I saw everything she did, and saw what she was pointing out to me. A lot was going on, but I was easily able to manage it. We started to pull back on the yoke, ever so gently, and the SkyHawk was in the air. We were in the air. We were flying. She did the noise-abatement turn over the Santa Monica VOR, then over the golf course just past the airport. Then, she had me hold the yoke with my left hand, and throttle at my right. I held the climb, and then we turned to the north. It was all still unreal to me. It didn't register to me that I was actually flying. I was simply doing what came instinctive to a pilot in turning. Bank for the appropriate angle, at a little rudder to coordinate the turn, and pull the yoke back just a smidge to maintain climb in this case.
I knew, based on what I had previously read in articles in magazines, and on the Internet, that I was doing a little more than what was normal for a first lesson.
We climbed out to 4,500 feet mean sea level over the Santa Monica Mountains, overlooking Thousand Oaks. The scenery was beautiful, but it didn't register yet. I was fixated on the panel (I would later learn that this is a common problem for those who knew how to "fly" in MS Flight Sim, as it happened to a several flight sim enthusiasts that I know). At that time, it helped because I had the altitude in check, and I had the headings and turns on pretty good for a novice. I did better than I thought though. Holly would set the heading bug, and ask me to demonstrate a turn. We did a few turns over the mountains. I made the turns, as coordinated as I could, with as little variance in altitude as I could possibly control. She said I did well. And I did feel that I did do well. Then, she had me turn south.
"Now, Gil, how would you start a descent?"
I thought about it quickly, and the first thing I did was reduce engine power. Then, I lowered the nose a tad, and trimmed for the attitude. Apparently I nailed it.
That's when it hit me.
That was when I saw that sunset to our right. The sun, slowly setting, and the sky reflecting all sorts of colors that I had never seen before. I had seen many sunsets in my life, but this one was special. Seeing those mountains, the Pacific Ocean, and that beautiful sun that I was sharing the sky with...it was a moving experience. And all of this, while I was controlling an airplane. I was flying the airplane.
I was truly flying.
I knew that flying was going to be the thing for me.
Prior to that point, I had interest in several things after high school. Post-secondary education was the constant. But going to work straight from high school was also an option. A few years before I had interest in becoming a firefighter with the Los Angeles Fire Department (Honor, Commitment, Respect, Hoo-Rah!). I attended a "fire academy" run on weekends by the LAFD and West Los Angeles College, that introduced the honorable profession of firefighting to high school students. I also made a deal with a friend from high school that I had known for many years, that after getting our high school diplomas together, we would apply to become firefighters together. However, we never kept that promise. His family moved to the San Jose area, and he is in the US Army now. My family moved to South Florida, and I work for an airline now. But among the other things I had interest in was aeronautical engineering (I would have loved to design and build my own airplane of my own design, but my math skills had a lot to be desired), automotive engineering (I was in auto shop, and I loved cars), graphic design (the one thing that I felt I was good at in high school), and audio engineering (music is something that always fascinated me). However, I do feel that those things can be learned on one's own initiative, without having a formal education. Graphic design, and music, for example, are artforms. However, you can take anything you create, regardless of media, and call it art. I know art critics will cringe at my view of art. But, art does not have to be taught. And I do feel that spending money at huge institutions to get a degree just to paint is simply a waste of money and time. And what about cars? If you have a car, and a set of tools, you can pretty much do your own maintenance. The key is having the appropriate manuals. And, dare I mention aeronautical engineering and design?! Though I know that such a thing requires a good deal of education, it is possible to get by with so much as a love of flight and a desire to learn. Look at the fathers of powered flight! Look at the Wright Brothers themselves! Two bicycle mechanics from Dayton, Ohio, who knew next to nothing about flying, not only designed their own kites, gliders, and eventually airplanes, but even so much as dissected and critiqued the designs of people who flew before them (one example is noting the flaws in the gliders of Otto Lilienthal, a trailblazer in gliding before their time). Since when do bicycle chains, pedals, handlebars, and two wheels have to do with propellers and wings? Yes, I know, I'm oversimplifying, but you get the point. One can easily get the books, make the time, get the materials, and build a plane of your own design (something that I still want to do).
But that first flight changed everything. That was when I found my calling. I had always wanted to be a pilot. Even just as a private pilot, renting a plane in the weekends, I just wanted to have the license.
But no. Flying became the big thing in life. I wanted to be a commercial pilot. That's my thing. I had dreams of flying in airshows as an aerobatic performer, flying low and fast as a racing pilot in Reno, being on the cutting edge as a test pilot, working as a corporate pilot flying jets, flying around the world for an airline, and even flying around the local patch teaching people to fly. And all of those possibilities are still on the table, though some possibilities are stronger than others. But either way, flying is what I want to do. And that was the moment when I was able to say with total conviction and truth, "I want to be a pilot". I want four stripes for flying and wings of gold.
But all those possibilities didn't matter that time in the cockpit. Seeing those colors, seeing the ocean, seeing the mountains, and seeing Los Angeles awash in color...saying that it was moving was an understatement. I fell short of crying with glee. It was the most beautiful experience I ever had.
We landed as the sun was low over the water. We taxiied back. We parked the plane and tied it down. And then, I looked back at the plane I flew. It started a love affair that will last until the day I die. That's when I had flight time to my name.
I would continue to fly into the following year, but would stop in November 2004 due to financial constraints caused by Florida home insurance laws, Florida business practices, and two hurricanes that caused all sorts of damage to our newly-bought house just south of West Palm Beach. All in spite of paying less for flight training.
But all was not lost. After stopping my flight training, I started college at Everglades University, and transferred to Embry-Riddle. Though in hiatus with college, I am now in ground school to get the endorsement to take the Private Pilot Written, as you may have seen in my previous post.
I can't wait to get back in the air. Oh, if I could fly again...I will. I will fly again.
Mark my words, I will fly again.
Though I had been reading endlessly about flying throughout my life for as long as I can remember reading, I officially started my flight training back in 2003. I was a high school senior at the time. My dad knew of my interest in flying from when I was barely able to walk, since he first took me to Santa Monica Municipal Airport when I was just starting to walk, so when I turned 17, and after attending a week-long educational "immersion" of sorts into aviation (LAX ACE Academy) run by Los Angeles World Airports, he felt I was ready to start flying.
At first, I was apprehensive. Not because I had fear of flying. But because I was quite aware of the cost that flying would incur. I was not in any type of "work-study" program at work, and no company at SMO was willing to hire a high-school student with no work experience who would work for cheap flight time (that's when I concluded that such opportunities were too good to be true). I didn't want my parents to pay for flying. It was something that I wanted to do when I felt I was ready to do it. But, hey, twist my arm, I'll go flying.
3 December 2003. Justice Aviation. Santa Monica Airport. Just a few days before, my dad and I set an appointment to fly on this day with a CFI named Holly. If you could imagine an attractive woman with fabulous red hair with the biggest heart, she would be what comes to mind. She is also one of the most professional pilots I have met.
That day, we flew for the first time. I flew for the first time.
Preflight. I remembered a few aspects from ACE Academy, when we did a walkaround on a Piper Cherokee based at SMO. This time around, it was in a relatively new Cessna 172 SkyHawk with a Bendix/King GPS and radio stack. Check fuel, make sure it's 100LL (blue), and that it is free of water and contaminants, check flight control surfaces, and general aircraft condition. Then I climbed in. She said, "You'll take the left seat." That's when my heart began to race (and no, it wasn't hormones that was causing my heart to race, in spite of my adolescence).
We started the engine, and Holly called Santa Monica Ground. We started to taxi to the runup area. She had already knew that I had a good idea of what was going on, and that I wasn't a typical zero-hour student (I had hundreds of hours in Microsoft's Flight Simulator flying under my belt). I already knew that when taxiing a light plane, it's done with your feet, on the rudder pedals. I was able to maintain centerline for most of the way there. Speed control, however, was a different story. Being new to flying, I was taxiing slowly, not at that "brisk walk" speed that is recommended, but more at a "relaxed crawl". But I quickly learned taxiing.
Runup. We moved the throttle forward to an elevated power level. We checked the magnetos, and the engine instruments to make sure everything was in working order. I checked the flight controls. Ailerons, rudder, and elevator were all moved to verify correct movement and ease of travel. I remember seeing a black Pitts Special biplane next to us. And I remember that goofy smile I felt on my face when I saw it. Then, I remembered, I am flying a plane...worry about the task at hand. After verifying everything on the checklist, Holly then called Santa Monica Ground.
"Santa Monica Ground, Cessna 2251 Zulu, ready to taxi to Runway 21 from Southeast Runup Area."
The ground controller replied, "Cessna 2251 Zulu, Santa Monica Ground, taxi to and hold short Runway 21." Holly, then read back the controller's transmission. And with that, we taxied toward Runway 21.
Runway 21 is at approximately at the magnetic heading of 210 degrees. This would aim us towards the Pacific Ocean. And it would mark the official beginning of my aeronautical life. Everything I did up to that point, I had been in an egg, being incubated, waiting to hatch. And this was the moment that I would break out from that shell, and spread my wings for the first time.
We lined up after getting clearance to position and hold. A helicopter was hovering over the runway, and was "taxiing" to one of the FBOs on the north side (well, more like hovering with a litle forward motion). We got clearance to take off, and Holly talked me through the takeoff. I saw everything she did, and saw what she was pointing out to me. A lot was going on, but I was easily able to manage it. We started to pull back on the yoke, ever so gently, and the SkyHawk was in the air. We were in the air. We were flying. She did the noise-abatement turn over the Santa Monica VOR, then over the golf course just past the airport. Then, she had me hold the yoke with my left hand, and throttle at my right. I held the climb, and then we turned to the north. It was all still unreal to me. It didn't register to me that I was actually flying. I was simply doing what came instinctive to a pilot in turning. Bank for the appropriate angle, at a little rudder to coordinate the turn, and pull the yoke back just a smidge to maintain climb in this case.
I knew, based on what I had previously read in articles in magazines, and on the Internet, that I was doing a little more than what was normal for a first lesson.
We climbed out to 4,500 feet mean sea level over the Santa Monica Mountains, overlooking Thousand Oaks. The scenery was beautiful, but it didn't register yet. I was fixated on the panel (I would later learn that this is a common problem for those who knew how to "fly" in MS Flight Sim, as it happened to a several flight sim enthusiasts that I know). At that time, it helped because I had the altitude in check, and I had the headings and turns on pretty good for a novice. I did better than I thought though. Holly would set the heading bug, and ask me to demonstrate a turn. We did a few turns over the mountains. I made the turns, as coordinated as I could, with as little variance in altitude as I could possibly control. She said I did well. And I did feel that I did do well. Then, she had me turn south.
"Now, Gil, how would you start a descent?"
I thought about it quickly, and the first thing I did was reduce engine power. Then, I lowered the nose a tad, and trimmed for the attitude. Apparently I nailed it.
That's when it hit me.
That was when I saw that sunset to our right. The sun, slowly setting, and the sky reflecting all sorts of colors that I had never seen before. I had seen many sunsets in my life, but this one was special. Seeing those mountains, the Pacific Ocean, and that beautiful sun that I was sharing the sky with...it was a moving experience. And all of this, while I was controlling an airplane. I was flying the airplane.
I was truly flying.
I knew that flying was going to be the thing for me.
Prior to that point, I had interest in several things after high school. Post-secondary education was the constant. But going to work straight from high school was also an option. A few years before I had interest in becoming a firefighter with the Los Angeles Fire Department (Honor, Commitment, Respect, Hoo-Rah!). I attended a "fire academy" run on weekends by the LAFD and West Los Angeles College, that introduced the honorable profession of firefighting to high school students. I also made a deal with a friend from high school that I had known for many years, that after getting our high school diplomas together, we would apply to become firefighters together. However, we never kept that promise. His family moved to the San Jose area, and he is in the US Army now. My family moved to South Florida, and I work for an airline now. But among the other things I had interest in was aeronautical engineering (I would have loved to design and build my own airplane of my own design, but my math skills had a lot to be desired), automotive engineering (I was in auto shop, and I loved cars), graphic design (the one thing that I felt I was good at in high school), and audio engineering (music is something that always fascinated me). However, I do feel that those things can be learned on one's own initiative, without having a formal education. Graphic design, and music, for example, are artforms. However, you can take anything you create, regardless of media, and call it art. I know art critics will cringe at my view of art. But, art does not have to be taught. And I do feel that spending money at huge institutions to get a degree just to paint is simply a waste of money and time. And what about cars? If you have a car, and a set of tools, you can pretty much do your own maintenance. The key is having the appropriate manuals. And, dare I mention aeronautical engineering and design?! Though I know that such a thing requires a good deal of education, it is possible to get by with so much as a love of flight and a desire to learn. Look at the fathers of powered flight! Look at the Wright Brothers themselves! Two bicycle mechanics from Dayton, Ohio, who knew next to nothing about flying, not only designed their own kites, gliders, and eventually airplanes, but even so much as dissected and critiqued the designs of people who flew before them (one example is noting the flaws in the gliders of Otto Lilienthal, a trailblazer in gliding before their time). Since when do bicycle chains, pedals, handlebars, and two wheels have to do with propellers and wings? Yes, I know, I'm oversimplifying, but you get the point. One can easily get the books, make the time, get the materials, and build a plane of your own design (something that I still want to do).
But that first flight changed everything. That was when I found my calling. I had always wanted to be a pilot. Even just as a private pilot, renting a plane in the weekends, I just wanted to have the license.
But no. Flying became the big thing in life. I wanted to be a commercial pilot. That's my thing. I had dreams of flying in airshows as an aerobatic performer, flying low and fast as a racing pilot in Reno, being on the cutting edge as a test pilot, working as a corporate pilot flying jets, flying around the world for an airline, and even flying around the local patch teaching people to fly. And all of those possibilities are still on the table, though some possibilities are stronger than others. But either way, flying is what I want to do. And that was the moment when I was able to say with total conviction and truth, "I want to be a pilot". I want four stripes for flying and wings of gold.
But all those possibilities didn't matter that time in the cockpit. Seeing those colors, seeing the ocean, seeing the mountains, and seeing Los Angeles awash in color...saying that it was moving was an understatement. I fell short of crying with glee. It was the most beautiful experience I ever had.
We landed as the sun was low over the water. We taxiied back. We parked the plane and tied it down. And then, I looked back at the plane I flew. It started a love affair that will last until the day I die. That's when I had flight time to my name.
I would continue to fly into the following year, but would stop in November 2004 due to financial constraints caused by Florida home insurance laws, Florida business practices, and two hurricanes that caused all sorts of damage to our newly-bought house just south of West Palm Beach. All in spite of paying less for flight training.
But all was not lost. After stopping my flight training, I started college at Everglades University, and transferred to Embry-Riddle. Though in hiatus with college, I am now in ground school to get the endorsement to take the Private Pilot Written, as you may have seen in my previous post.
I can't wait to get back in the air. Oh, if I could fly again...I will. I will fly again.
Mark my words, I will fly again.
Labels:
airplanes,
airports,
aviation,
flight training,
flying,
Los Angeles,
Santa Monica,
SMO
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