Cecil Field Air Show...This One's For You, Alan...

I have been going to airshows for almost 20 years. I've learned a lot about the airshow industry (for a while, I even wanted to get into the airshow industry as a pilot). I have had dreams of Oshkosh, performing in front of a hundred thousand people, me, and my airplane, merging into one being, making the sky my canvas, the airplane my paintbrush.

This airshow is going to be a special one. And although it is a good distance away from me, I am contemplating going. The drive to and from Jacksonville, Florida, can be done within a day, as long as driving is done at night. And although the tickets are $10, it's still not bad. It's something that I am seriously considering going to.

Why am I so bent on attending this airshow?

Alan Henley, the lead pilot for the Aeroshell Flight Team (which I have had the joy to see three times since moving here to Florida), was in a tragic accident at home not too long ago. The accident left him paralyzed from the chest down. It gutted his flying career. But it has not gutted his love for aviation. And the love the industry has for him is also unwavering. The airshow industry took it hard when the accident occurred. He, and his team, was one of the movers and shakers of the industry. One thing is for certain. The industry was willing and able to help a fallen brother. And that is what this airshow is about.

This airshow is unlike any other one in the sense that the time alone is much longer than the typical airshow. Most airshows don't start until noon, maybe afterward, and end at around 4 PM. This one will start at 10 AM and end at 5 PM. A full SEVEN HOURS of airshow performances. And while on performances, 35 performers are currently slated to fly the show. All the big names of the industry will be there.

If anything, this airshow, in the aspect of civilian performances, may surpass Oshkosh (but of course, I wouldn't know, because I have yet to go to my first AirVenture). This has never been done before. Thirty-five civilian performers, a full seven hours of air time, and the primary purpose is charity. It's not about military recruitment, or patriotism, but about helping out a fallen aviator and his family. This may be the airshow in its purest sense of the word.

I'll try to head out to it.

Here is the video from Aero-TV, and the airshow's website.

Blue Skies and Tailwinds, Alan. And a speedy recovery!

Algo en que pensar...Love, Desire, and Caring

Hay alguien que sé quién me hace pensár mucho. Esta muchacha tiene, más o menos, un año más que mí. Sus ojos oscuros, su pelo café que fluye en el viento, piel suave, hacen que me vuélvo loco siempre que la vea. Mis latidos del corazón aceleran, aún más rápidamente. Comienzo a sudar. Y las palabras se me ván. La he conocido por casi cinco años, y debido a miedo, simplemente no puedo decirle cómo me siento. Cómo deseo su amor más que el vuelo sí mismo. Sí, dejare mi carrera de piloto profesional para estar con ella.

Quiero enseñarle el mundo. Quiero compartir el mundo con ella con mis alas de oro. Quiero tomarla en el cielo, y ver mi reflejo, y el mundo entero detrás de mí, en sus ojos. Quiero ver lo que ella ve. Quiero ser su mundo.

Sí, ella es alguien muy especial. Con todo temo del rechazamiento. Creo que es que el mismo miedo que me guarda de hacer el salto con el vuelo me está guardando de decirle lo que siento. Una amiga cercana me dijo que necesito saltar al vuelo, y dejar de mi estancamiento. Si amo el volar tanto, necesito olvidar todo, y simplemente volar.

Debo olvidar el pasado. Necesito olvidar el pasado. Debo olvidar el hecho que habría podido avanzar con mi carrera del vuelo si nunca salimos de California. Me estaría preparando para mi licencia del ATP ahora. Debo ser. Cumplaré los 23 años en unos meses. Aunque no tengo todo lo que necesito, necesito empezar. Necesito volar. He rectificado mis finanzas. No hay razón para parar. Necesito empezar una vez por todas. Comenzar otra vez. Comenzar de nuevo.

Y comenzaré. Necesito a una amiga para llevar al cielo. Y quisiera que ella fuera mi copilota. La veo, y empiezan mis deseos de protegerla, amarla, acariciarla, respetarla, hacer que yo sere la unica persona quien ella puede depender.

That is all I want.

And I desire to spend the rest of eternity with her.

I had felt something similar before. But it didn't feel tangible. I was younger, and stupid. Now, I'm not as young, and not so stupid. One would think that the feeling wouldn't be as strong now that I'm older, and hormones stabilized. But it feels stronger. Stronger now.

I'll tell her something soon.

I have known her for some time now. But I have not seen her until just a couple of days ago. I had these feelings for a while now, but they didn't fire up to a blazing desire until recently. Prior to that point, the last time I saw her was a good 4 months (and we simply meet, not that often, but when we do, we just do).

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".

Just like that song...

Just like that Aerosmith song, "I'm BAAAAACK In The Saddle Again!!!!!"

It feels great to be back!


Taking flight once again, embodying my life dream. Being at the controls of an airplane, flying, shadowing the earth lovingly with my wings of success and accomplishment.

This past Sunday, I went flying with some students from the ground school class I'm taking. After a group preflight, another student, and myself, were selected to fly first. From Boca Raton (BCT), we flew under the command of Kevin Formica, teaching student who was with me to Palm Beach County Park Gassaway Field (LNA). What a beautiful day to go flying. But it didn't sink into me until after we landed. We traded places, and I was at the controls on the way back. And what a flight. Kevin made everything fast for me (as it should be. I'm an Embry-Riddle guy, and I should learn at ERAU's standards). Although I had a little difficulty with keeping ahead of the airplane (I was just a little ahead), I felt good throughout the flight.



And I called Boca Tower! I guess I finally got over my fear of talking to a tower. I am happy!

I am happy. I am happy and very thankful to have flown. Especially after four long years of waiting. I'm glad to know that all that waiting was not in vain. I know that when I formally kickstart my flight training and hire an instructor, I will be able to learn fast and efficiently, and I will be able to complete my flight training on a set schedule. I will be able to complete my flight training to get my private pilot license. One hour at a time, learning, at my pace, and training with an instructor who loves flying, not just one who wants to build time to get hired by an airline. I'm going to learn to fly. I am resolute on completing my mission.

That's another thing that I noticed when I flew Sunday. I felt like I became a mission-oriented pilot. I did everything to fulfill the mission.



That day, I felt Aviation's love again. I felt her with me after the flight, and through the night. Again, I felt her love, after so long. Aviation has not forgotten me, just as how I never forgot Aviation. I felt the love of flying once more.

And it was beautiful.

To all my readers, blue skies and tailwinds.

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