Saturday, September 23, 2017

Autumn

(Source)
Summer is over, the leaves up here in New England are starting to change color. Here in Little Rhody it will be a while before the color really sets in. If it does, it's not an every year kind of thing. Depends on the temperature, the amount of rain we had, and probably a bunch of other factors as well. I just try to enjoy it when it's here.

I enjoy Fall, the light has a different quality, almost a rosy hue. While the days here are still warm, the nights are beginning to be crisp.

The past couple of days we've been seeing a lot of wind and some rain as what used to be Hurricane Jose peters out over the Atlantic. "He" pretty much left us alone, other than the higher than normal winds and some rain, not really heavy, sort of a persistent drizzle. But that storm's presence out there might keep the next storm, Maria, away from us.

It's Friday evening as I write this, wet, gloomy, blustery winds, and rather chilly.


I thought a bit of Yeats was needed. And to think I didn't care for poetry in my youth. I guess you get more refined with age.
The Wild Swans at Coole
William Butler Yeats

'The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty swans.

The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.

I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All's changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.

Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.

But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake's edge or pool
Delight men's eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?
Nice...


Friday, September 22, 2017

Cool Stuff

Screen capture from the video.
I'm exhausted, it's been a long, long week, so...

Yup, you get a video.

The scene in Saving Private Ryan where the troops go over the side of a landing craft into water over their heads is incredible. Watching them struggle with their equipment, some succeeding, some drowning before even getting ashore is harrowing.

The scene works just as it is, but of course Hollywood has to juice it up. They can't resist it. When the German machine gun rounds start ripping through the water and killing men, well, I had to throw the challenge flag.

Mythbusters had an episode where they showed what happened when even high powered rounds hit the water. They don't go far, when they're going from air to water they even break up. Yes, even the full metal jacketed rounds. (Great movie by the way. The Nuke got a lot of odd looks in high school when asked what her favorite movie was. "Full Metal Jacket! Get some!")

Ya know, there's a reason highway departments use safety barriers filled with water. Water is virtually incompressible and will absorb a lot of energy. Have you ever belly flopped into a pool? Hurts, doesn't it?

At any rate, I ran across this video by a guy who is wicked smart (own it, say it like you're from Boston), Destin does a lot of cool stuff on his YouTube channel SmarterEveryDay and this isn't the first of his videos I've watched. (I think I posted one of his videos before, I just don't remember when and quite honestly I'm too tired to look it up right now.)

This video is great, shooting a rifle underwater and filming the results with high speed cameras (I love high speed camera work). He also explains some of the science behind it. (Don't worry, you won't have to do any math, unless you really want to...)

Enjoy!



Wicked cool!



Thursday, September 21, 2017

Time Flies

From this, in 1936...
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To this, in 1944.
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From this, in 1939...
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To this, in 1945.
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Technology can progress at a pretty amazing pace. Wartime sometimes drives that, but what about these things?

IBM Personal Computer, 1981.
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Acer Aspire Laptop Computer, 2012
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I do remember my first IBM PC clone computer, it had a four color monitor, two 5 and a quarter inch floppy drives and, gasp, a 20 megabyte hard drive. Though I bought it used, for $1200, I was the envy of the guys at work.

Well, except for the guy who owned a Mac.

There's always that guy.

The space program is another example of the leaps and bounds technology can make in a free society.

Mercury-Redstone 4, in 1961
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STS-129 Atlantis, in 2009
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One of my favorite examples of the speed of technological development is comparing the latest and greatest aircraft from 1908, the year of my maternal grandmother's birth, to the latest and greatest bird in 2000, the year she died.

Wright Model A, first flight in 1908.
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F-22 Raptor, first flight in 1997.
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So when my grandmother was a child, aircraft were primitive, personal computers and space flight were unheard of, except perhaps in a Jules Verne novel! When she was in her fifties men had walked on the moon. Before she died many people had personal computers, they were practically as ubiquitous as a telephone or television.

She often commented at the changes she had seen in her lifetime.

Amazes me it does.



Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Whither Goethe?

Goethe in the Roman Campagna - Johann Heinrich Wilhelm Tischbein (Source)
I had thought perhaps to write of philosophy today, not the classic guys and all that, more what I thought of all the great questions of the age.

But I am no philosopher. I am a simple man with simple tastes.

I also had thought to address the perceived lack of civility in our Nation these days. I've addressed that topic before (here and here) and Tuna addressed it pretty well yesterday, he doesn't post much but when he does it's well worth the wait. I will, no doubt, talk about civility, or the lack thereof, sometime again in the future. It's inevitable as once you start to get on in years, you start to repeat yourself.

And digress from time to time, like right now.

As is my wont, I like to start my posts with something pictorial, some days I know exactly what I want, other days I just stumble around the Internets until something (of a non-copyrighted nature, or close to it) presents itself.

Chasing the philosophy angle I searched on images of philosophers. 'Twas there that I stumbled across Goethe. (Well he was lying on that bench with his foot sticking out, I couldn't help but stumble.)

Now Goethe was something of a brilliant man. As a matter of fact, he...
was a German writer and statesman. His works include epic and lyric poetry; prose and verse dramas; memoirs; an autobiography; literary and aesthetic criticism; treatises on botany, anatomy, and colour; and four novels. In addition, numerous literary and scientific fragments, more than 10,000 letters, and nearly 3,000 drawings by him exist. (Source)
It struck me, thinking about the barbarism we seem to be sinking into, planet-wide, not just at home, though California seems eager to get there first, and thinking about philosophers, that one thing which is often said of Nazi Germany is that how could a nation such as that, a nation which produced Goethe and Beethoven, sink into such a state of barbarism.

State policy called for the deportation of all non-Germanic "stock" and the murder of all Jews, Gypsies, criminals, homosexuals, and the intelligentsia of all the countries the Nazis wanted for themselves. (Lebensraum and all that rot.)

Germany made the ultimate descent into barbarism, as did Soviet Russia, as did so many other totalitarian states. All eventually failed. Soon enough people will say "Enough!" and rise up against their oppressors. Usually though it takes the totalitarian state invading the wrong country and pissing off some other country before enough force is brought to bear to crush the totalitarians.

Until they rise again.

Speaking of the Nazis and their idiotic racial theories, I ran across this picture while researching my recent post about the Wehrmacht -

(Source)
The ideal German soldier, ja?

Well, yes and no. The young man's name was Werner Goldberg. He had been selected as the poster boy for the Wehrmacht, his image appearing on recruiting posters for the German military. Until the Nazis discovered that his father had been born Jewish but had converted to Lutheranism in order to marry Werner's (future) mother.

Blond and blue-eyed though he was, he wasn't good enough for Hitler's sick racial philosophy.

Speaking of which, there is a lot of sick racial philosophy still alive in the world. Drives me to distraction it does. There is, let me be frank about this, no such thing as race. We are all one species with a multitude of climate adapted variations. No one more superior than the other, all equal in the eyes of our Creator.

There are a number of idiots running loose in the streets these days, hiding behind masks, spreading hate and discontent. I'm starting to believe it has nothing to do with Clinton losing the election. That's just an excuse.

I'm starting to wonder what the end goal of these miscreants is?

I doubt they even know.

But their masters do.

What a world we live in...



Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Rant coming on in 3...2...1





No, that's not a duplicate post or one of Sarge's welcomed revisits, but I am shamelessly lifting his picture from a recent post since it inspired me to write one of my own.  He's a-muse-ing that way.

That picture just sort of ticked me off and a flood of postable thoughts rushed into my brain.  I'll explain the first thought and then probably ramble a bit like one of my typical, yet rare pithy political rants.  Rare you say?  Most of my posts are rants you say?  Ok, fair criticism, but the rarity is only in the frequency of my posts!  But I digress.

Like Sarge, I always return my shopping carts to either the cart corral in the parking lot, or to the front of the store.  Anything less is abhorrent to me and reeks of laziness and mediocrity.  You see, I tend to hold myself in high regard and anything less is below my station and just plain wrong.  Now I realize that sounds quite pretentious and makes me sound like an arse, but what I mean by that is that I always try to do what is kind, right, helpful, and expected, not to mention lawful.  And I would feel lousy if I didn't operate in that manner on a regular basis.

Source

I've always been a rule-follower and I like being that way.  I like the feeling that I get from being orderly and and upstanding citizen, helping make the world a better place, even if it's just a little-bit of goodness I bring about.  I couldn't really live with myself if I didn't live that way.  I know that might mark me as a bit dull and unexciting, but I'm good with that.  I don't find it difficult to be that way either.  The drawing above is obviously an exaggeration.  I'm no authoritarian in my rule-following.  I might shake my head at others, but no more than that.  Would I like to publicly berate them?  Sure, but that also would take me too far out of my comfort zone.  I just grind my teeth in frustration instead.

Who are these minor-league offenders?  We've all grumbled about some of these here before- the drivers that never use their blinker, line jumpers, loud cell phone talkers in public, the person that litters right in front of you, someone on the freeway driving slow in the fast lane, the jerk on his or her cell phone who isn't paying attention to the road.  I could probably keep going.  One more thing that bugs me is when people dump their unwanted grocery items on any nearby shelf, even frozen or refrigerated items.  I always take it back to where I found it.  What about you?


Unfortunately we probably all know these offenders well.  Somebody needs to invent a license plate or some electronic sign on your back bumper that you can change with a voice command, so you can get in front of an idiot driver and give him a piece of your mind.  Ok, that's getting a little crazy, but maybe a little scolding is warranted sometimes.  Somebody dropping some trash might get a polite- "Hey sir, I think you dropped something" which doesn't accuse them of anything.  But the jerk on the freeway who cuts you off?  You can't follow them home to put them in their place, and road rage just escalates the problem into an even bigger one.  Best thing to do for me?  Let it go.
                                  Image result for oregon license plate california plate
I have a friend and neighbor who is a fellow former Oregonian and NFO.  He retired from the Navy as a Captain a few years back and still has his Oregon plates.  Now I completely understand why he hasn't registered his cars in California, even if I don't like it.  In Oregon it's only $60 every two years to register your car, but here it's almost $300 for my Mustang, every single year until it's old.  My daughter's 16 year old Beetle is $90 not counting the annual smog certificate.  So while I understand, it still irks me.  I transferred my registration to California within the required 20 days of establishing residency so I'm legal, but poorer because of it.  I have another friend that won't give an inch and he's willing to put a stranger in their place no matter what.  It can be a little embarrassing sometimes, but I admire his tenacity.  Maybe I should introduce them!


Yeah, the problem is me, especially with the license plate issue.  The other items tend to be related to safety and money.  Blinkers keep the road safe and make drivers predictable.  Cell phone use in the car?  Another safety issue, and being alive is safer than being dead.  If you wreck my car, even if it's your fault, it's gonna cost me money.  The others relate to good order and discipline, which I prefer over their opposites.

The real question is why do these people act like this?  I think it just comes down to a growing lack of common courtesy and a whole bunch of laziness.  "But taking my cart back to the corral is just so hard, and it takes so long, and it's really far away."  So they leave it where it can roll into, and door-ding my car.  Or into another spot so the next driver has to either move it himself or find a different spot.  They'll be gone by then so it's not the offender's problem.  Same thing with litterbugs.  Blinker offenders?  Pure laziness.  How much effort does it really take?  It's a flick of a finger for pete's sake.  If you cut them off, they'll be sure to use one of their fingers!  I realize some drivers can be absolute jerks in heavy traffic out here, and if you use your blinker somebody might close the gap to prevent you from changing lanes, but just relax, the next person will let you in.  Smokers littering the world with their cigarette butts?  They don't even care about themselves, much less whether or not it's littering.  So the bad behavior also from a position of self-centeredness.  They're not disadvantaged by their bad behavior, and they don't care how it affects others.

Are we less considerate and polite than we used to be?  I think many people are, or it seems like it.  Maybe it's a generational thing, but probably not.  Maybe I see it more since I live in a big city.  When I was a small-town kid in Oregon, everybody knew everybody else.  And while courtesy was taught and expected, bad behavior was swiftly corrected and everybody knew about it.  There's a lot more anonymity in a big city though so the consequences aren't there.

Source

I heard about a website in India that publicly shames bad drivers, posting their photo and license plate for all the billion people to see.  We don't have much shame in our society anymore though.  The only morality is personal morality now, and there's no calling someone out, shunning them, or whatever it was that might have made someone look inwardly to self-correct.

I don't think I'm alone in my beliefs, although others probably aren't quite as obsessed over their proper behavior like I am.  This attitude probably stems from serving our nation.  When you are willing to put your life on the line for something, you're pretty darn serious about it.  And that love and dedication manifests itself in all sorts of ways, even little ones like when someone doesn't use their blinker.  Am I equating the extending of a simple courtesy to the defense of the nation?  Yes, of course I am, because we're a nation of laws that make our country great and fair and a place that others envy.  If we have a breakdown in that fabric, even if it's just a few threads, a few chips in the foundation, we're putting the entire structure at risk.  No, a single dent doesn't do it, but over time, as a line is crossed and a new one is drawn as to what's acceptable,  we allow a tiny bit of anarchy into our society.  We also get politicians that don't care about our foundations or their constituents, eventually becoming corrupt and beholden to their special interest donors.  And we get a society less and less outraged over things that would have made our grandmothers faint.


What can we do about it?  Not much.  Like I said, we can't exactly chase down lousy drivers.  Drive defensively to allow room for the idiots and let a guy in when needed.  Can we politely ask loud talkers to hold it down or be like my friend who gives no quarter to bad behavior?  Sure, and maybe we should, but in general, we should just keep trying to do what is good, fair, polite, and lawful, and teach our children and grandchildren to do the same.  And hopefully that'll influence others.  Maybe we can't change the whole of society, but we can definitely influence the part of it around us, including that turn-signal lever.

Monday, September 18, 2017

"The care and cleaning of lieutenants is NCO business" *

Hasn't Sarge been on a roll lately, yesterday's before and after pictures of his garden.  I've got a pair of those.
Before

After


The day before that, he posted about shopping carts?  AND made it interesting to the point of being the catalyst for my nominee (Andrew) for this year's Best Comment Ever award! (We do have that award in the Awards and Dec's shop don't we, Sarge?)

So, having read that comment, and having to go to work on Saturday, I arrived at school to see this.  
Yes that red line says "Fire Lane"

Instantly, I flashed AHTFLE Beacon and then searched the sky for the Floppy boonie hat, sunglasses, t-shirt, shors and sandled superhero. A-hole the Fire Lane Enforcer. Unfortunately, he must have been out on another call, and, as a IT guy in the district, I'm by definition an A-hole, I saw no benefit to my blood pressure in calling these two on it.  

But, to get back on target, the day before that, Sarge posted on Sergeants.  Yes, that is somewhat redundant, but it was an interesting post, and the comments were intriguing.  

It caused me to reflect on my interactions with enlisted personnel while on active duty.

I had considerable interactions with them.  They were the clerks in the squadron, necessary but paper work and I were mortal enemies.  Whether the clerks were on my side or paperwork's side determined the interaction with them.  Ones on my side that helped me get through the necessary and made the unnecessary go away were heroes.  The others? To be avoided at all costs.

There were the life support techs.  Keep on their good side no matter what.  Their version of the Pistol analogy was, "You don't need life support until the AC says 'EJECT', they you need it really, really, really bad."

There were the Crew Chiefs.  Those I treated as well as I could.  Fessed up when I F'd up, so they didn't have to search for imaginary problems.  Tried to explain as best I could when something just didn't work right.  

Same thing for other maintainers.

But that was the sum total of my interaction with enlisted for the first 7 years I was in the AF.

The first time I actually had enlisted folks working with me was when I became the Wing Scheduler at Holloman.  I had a female E-4 and a male E-3 working with me to schedule Air Space for the Training Wing, working with the F-15 Wing scheduler to deconflict when weather was a factor and trying to steal as much time on White Sands Missile Range as we could get away with.  
The right hand triangular(ish) spaces were what I worked with. the left hand rectangular(ish) was F-15.  WSMR was in the middle. About 150NM E-W by 175NM N-S.
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I say they worked with me because I didn't actually write their performance reports.  I don't remember who did or why not, because, to be frank I was grateful.  Paperwork....refer to "mortal enemy" a few paragraphs back.

But...There came a time, when a phone call came from a squadron commander asking for some airspace.  I cocked an ear when the E-3 said his name.  He was one of those up and coming LtCols who wanted his way when he wanted it.  As I recall, airspace was a little tight that day, and we could usually subdivide some of it to make things work, but the E-3 wasn't having any of it.  After he told the LtCol, "No" and hung up on him.  I said I'd handle the airspace issue and called the LtCol back.

What followed wasn't the worst butt chewing I ever received.  That would have been from Ras.  But it was one of the most colorful.

Since this was Friday, I walked back into the other room and invited the E-3 to take the rest of the day off.  I'd speak to him on Monday.

Then went down to talk to Vegas, the DO.

"Sir, if you've got some time, I've got an issue and frankly I'd like some advice on how to handle it."

"Juvat, LtCol Schmuckatelli just got off the phone with me.  He's pretty Peeved" (Ok that wasn't the word he used, but it did begin with a "p".)

"Yes, sir, he made that clear to me."

"Well, he'll calm down.  You did divide up the airspace for him.  It sounds to me like you could use an NCOIC."

Now, I knew the term, there had been some in squadrons, but never really had to work with one.

"Yes, Sir."  

"He's on his last assignment, wants to retire in Ruidoso, but he'll be here for a couple of years anyhow.  You want him?"

"Yes, Sir"

"I'll send him by after lunch."

Shortly there after, a Senior Master Sergeant (which although technically an E-8, he was more of a Senior. Master. Sergeant. than a mere E-8) arrived and introduced himself.  Seemed confident, polite, good sense of humor (a very important attribute in working with me, I have come to realize).  He asked what I wanted him to handle, I told him I wanted him to handle the airspace section and informed him about the current brouhaha.

He said he'd handle it.

I asked him what he wanted from me.  He said, just to let him know what the current priorities were and any changes with schedules that would require immediate rearranging and to let him know if I had any concerns about how things were going.

You know what happened.  I didn't have any issues with that section again.  He and I had regular "chats" on this and that.  The E-3 eventually found another career outside the Air Force, but I also never got a butt chewing from a LtCol over airspace again.






* The title quote is by General Frederick J. KroesenWhile I wasn't a Lieutenant at the time, my NCOIC did take care of NCO Business

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Rome or Rhody?


I used to spend a lot of time in my backyard. When I was a smoker I would sit on the back steps of my deck, listening to the waterfall and watching the dragonflies in the summer. At night I would watch the stars, what I could see of them past the light pollution of Providence, Fall River, and Newport.

I don't smoke anymore so I don't spend as much time out on my deck, or in the backyard, as I used to. I do wander out from time to time to just take it all in. It's pleasant back there, peaceful and relaxing. It's a good place to just go and think.

Spring 2000
We moved into Chez Sarge in the fall of 1999. The backyard was then just an expanse of dead and dying grass which had been the playground of the previous owners' rather large dog, I think he was a Rottweiler. While he was friendly enough with humans, he and the lawn were not friends.

That photo above shows The Missus Herself beginning the landscaping process. (Our next door neighbor took the photo, she said it would make a great "before and after." When you're right, you're right. I can barely remember the old wasteland before the lady my wife began "terraforming" the place to make it habitable for humans.

That expanse of raw dirt just past the chain link fence is where we stripped out a big patch of dead crabgrass. You think the stuff is hard to get rid of when its alive? We had to rent a machine which cuts and rolls up the turf. We used that to build up that oval section she's working on in the picture. (The statue in the opening photo is just to the left of the mound. You can see it in the next photo.)

Spring 2016
As you might well imagine, a lot of work went into that garden, most of which The Missus Herself did. I'm good at digging and moving heavy things, she's the artiste. I'm just the manual labor, and I'm okay with that.

That dirt where the crabgrass was stripped out? Here's what it looks like now, well, in the spring.

Spring 2016
The pond, the hedge, the gardens, the flowers, all put in since the spring of 2000. Heck, even the shed had a "face lift," new color, new roof.

Fall 2015
A lot of water under the bridge since we moved in in late September of 1999. The Missus Herself completely changed the inside too. The woman has a talent for these things, I swear, her mind never stops working. If she sees something that needs improving, well Sarge, get out the wallet and grab the tools, whatever it is, it happens.

I am blessed.

Though there are days I kind of wish she would slow down a little. Neither of us is getting any younger.