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.
Showing posts with label West LA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label West LA. Show all posts
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".
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
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