So Much For The Botanical Gardens

Well, at least for today anyway.

I ran into my old friend Joe yesterday. Joe wanted to know if I had anything planned for today.

It seems he totalled his truck over the weekend.



Something like this.

He still had a load of stuff he'd bought down from New York late last week. It filled my truck up to the brim.

We off loaded the stuff at his house and proceeded to the rental car place.

Never underestimate the value of carrying a rental car rider on your auto insurance.

It came in handy when I hit the deer, it came in handy for Joe this afternoon.

Today's a lot like yesterday weather wise.

It's perfect.

Yesterday I endeavored to do nothing.

I must say, I succeeded well beyond my expectations.


I started out into the mornig sun.

Having been advised that my fiancee's oldest daughter found the name of my parking garage amusing, I took a shot of it.

Parking really CAN be fun.

They had to go with that name. "Parking Can Kill You" tested poorly during market research.



The view of Main Street looking south.


The view of Main Street facing north.

I decided a late breakfast would be nice. I sauntered up Main Street and turned on to Monroe towards the Mississippi River.

The Bardog Tavern has a fine breakfast menu and serves it from 8:00 am until 11:00 am.

They also post important messages and quotes to live by on a regular basis.


Useful insight Mr. Wilde.


Nice to know.

Soon it was time to get back out into the sunshine.

It was a good day for the patio at the Majestic Grille.




Tyler suggested a Pimm's Cup. Yes, that really is muddled cucumber in the drink.

It was delicious.

Having finished my drink and a snack, I headed off to Beale Street. Silky O'Sullivan's has a large patio and live music in the afternoons.


I passed our good friend Dan Masters who was relaxing on the patio of his bar/restaurant The Silly Goose. Pretty unique name, I admit. Daniel named it for a story his grandfather used to tell him and the other grandkids.

After some chit chat I continued to Beale Street.

I could hear the music from Silky O'Sullivan's patio halfway down the block.


Lanier and Lawrence were holding court on Silky's patio.


It was a great day to hang out and have a big beer.


Even the goat seemed to be having a good day.

I stayed for about an hour and a half taking in the music, the sun, and the crowd.

It was time to grab some dinner before trivia so I headed back out on Beale.


"Lady", the official stray dog of Beale Street was taking a rest near B. B. King's Blues club.

I took the time to scratch her head and continued on my way.

The Majestic Grille had a great white bean and ham soup on the daily special. I was determined to have a nice bowl of it.


I was not disappointed in the least.


The Cajun Crusted Beef Tenderloin tips are an outstanding appetizer.

By the time I finished, it was time for trivia at the Flying Saucer.

Once again, "The Rapscallions" took home first place. We had a couple bad weeks in a row, but the last two we've prevailed.

My day was a laid back, restful affair.

Unlike this guy.


That's what illegal parking in your Porsche gets you on Sunday afternoons across the street from the Flying Saucer.

Maybe the owner can schedule his own "relaxation day" soon.

Tomorrow, perhaps the Botanical Garden picnic.

I'll see.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Today's Most Pressing Task: Relaxing

Today is one of those days that just screams, "RELAX!!!!!!"

The forecast calls for sunny and 75F.

I got my walk in early, opting for a down and back through Tom Lee Park. Soon my route will change as the powers that be set up for the Beale Street Music Festival and other Memphis In May events.

All my chores at the condo were complete by 6:00 am.

I took thirty minutes this morning, laid on top the freshly made bed, and meditated.

Once upon a time I poo-pooed meditation.

Not any more.

I got out of bed just as the lovely Miss Chris called. She had come out of a meeting and wanted to check in with me.

God I love that woman. The only thing that would make this day complete would be her being here to share the day.

Soon sweetheart, soon.

So what's an old retired air traffic controller to do with the rest of his day?

Looks like lunch out and about today. The choices are amazing. I live within walking distance of some great places that have patios.

Patio dining in the Spring is truly one of life's great pleasures.

I might actually venture out to the Memphis Botanical Garden tomorrow for a picnic lunch. The Japanese Garden there is simply gorgeous this time of year. Regardless of their posted rules I will sneak in a small split of wine to go with the homemade crusty bread, marinated veggies, and cheeses. The Fresh Market in East Memphis has a wonderful selection of cheeses.

Cheese might be the perfect food. It definitely is when picnicking.

Now then, it's just past 11:00 am, I've made plans for the next two days.

My work here is done.

If your weather is anything like Memphis' weather today............play hooky.

Phone it in.

Call it off.

Put your shorts and sandals on.

Have a glass of wine at a patio bar today.

Smile at passersby and anyone within smiling distance.

Forget your problems and thank God for your blessings.

Exhale.

Relax.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Monday Update ---- FINALLY!

So then, like I was trying to say earlier, it was quite a weekend.

Saturday was some day.

Splitty the Maul spent Saturday morning divesting himself of Friday's sins.

Saturday night was no better.

I came back to the condo to cook the bacon wrapped pork tenderloin.

Poor old Splitty was still under the weather.


I didn't have the heart to wake him.

I'm pretty sure dynamite couldn't have awakened him.

Such is life when one over consumes.

In the meantime I got to work on my pork on pork dinner.


Having marinated for a night in the fridge, I dusted the bacon wrap with my homemade BBQ seasoning.

Life is much too short for plain tasting bacon.


While the meat was coming up to temperature, I started a nice hot natural charcoal fire on the Weber kettle.

Kingsford, et al. are okay, but for my money you just can't beat natural hardwood charcoal.

I placed the meat on the "cool" side of the grill and put a big handful of damp hickory chips over the blazing hot coals.

Can bacon ever REALLY be smoky enough?

I let the meat smoke for about 35 minutes.


The bacon can't be expected to cook all the way through in this manner, but that's just part of the plan.

I planned to finish it in the oven.

So, with the oven set at 300F, I placed the meat in there for about 25 minutes. It came out a perfect medium.



Yesterday was Sunday Funday.

A good time was had by all.

Especially when Michigan State took Tennessee out of the NCAA men's basketball tournament.

We're NOT University of Tennessee fans here for the most part.

Maybe they can get John Calipari there next year.

This morning, I got up early. 5:00 am to be exact.

So what's a brother to do at 5:00 am on a soon to be sunny and warm Monday morning?

Listen to NPR and start making Limoncello.



A glass milk bottle has never had a higher calling in my opinion.

Well, we'll see in 28 days.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Monday Update

Due to technical issues preventing me from posting pictures, the Monday update will be delayed until Tuesday or such time as Blogspot's tech folks get the problem solved.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

I Should Have Seen It Coming

I woke up early this morning. There were a number of things I wanted to accomplish. Things like go grocery shopping, stop by the wine store, prep tonight's dinner.

You know, the usual stuff.

As you might have read here yesterday, Splitty the Maul got his days confused and accidentally celebrated St. Patrick's Day nine days late.


Splitty, yesterday morning.


Splitty by 11:00am.

Heavy drinking has predictable outcomes.


One of which is hurling in the porcelain punch bowl.

Sour beer maul breath is not one of God's more beautiful creations.

I took a few moments to get Splitty and the bathroom cleaned up.

So much for a restful start to the day.

After I got Splitty back to the sofa to sleep the rest of the celebration off, I decided I'd get dinner prepped early.

One can never have too much pork when it comes to smoking/grilling here in the South.

I'm pretty good with that.

Tonight's dinner?


Mustard and herb marinated, bacon wrapped pork tenderloin.

Citing the lack of wine in my condo, I set out to get some wines and grab some groceries.

Mission accomplished.

Now with Splitty sleeping, dinner in the fridge, groceries/wine put up, I'm out here at the Saucer hanging out with a couple of the gang sipping on a stout. In a moment I'll post the blog and begin some poker tournament play over at Full Tilt.

Not a bad Saturday.

Unless your Splitty the Maul.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

You Can't Win 'Em Maul......

I decided to attempt something unusual this morning.

I made an attempt to sleep in.

Rarely, if ever, do I succeed. I've been an early riser all my life.

Today was no exception.

However I did not wake up of my own volition.

I heard some odd noises in the front room of my condo. Getting out of bed, I walked down the long hallway only to find this:


Splitty the Maul was all decked out in green, wearing beads, and drinking beer.

Gotta be honest with you, I really wasn't expecting that.

I asked Splitty, "What in the cornbread Hell is going on here?"

He replied he was getting an early start this St. Patrick's Day morning.

Barely believing my ears and squinting since I hadn't put my glasses on, I had to give Splitty the bad news.

"Saint Patrick's Day was March 17th, just like it is every year."


Splitty spun the chair around.

"Isn't today the 17th?", he inquired.

I told him it most certainly wasn't and showed him the calendar.


Splitty, making sure I wasn't pulling his chain, got on the desk top computer to research both St. Patrick's Day and the day it falls on.

Mauls trust, but verify.

Sadly, he didn't get the answer he so badly wanted.


He went to the refrigerator and got another cold PBR.

I tried to say something, but got cut off. Splitty's mood had decidedly taken a turn for the worse.

As we've seen in the past, mauls in bad moods and beer don't mix.


Splitty, hoping against hope that both I and the computer were wrong, dove back into the beer and research.

It proved futile.


Splitty went to the fridge and grabbed another PBR.

He was not pleased.

There would be no parade today.

There would be no Irish songs.

He would get no green beer.

I DID offer up some corned beef and cabbage I had made the night before last to sort of cheer him up.

Splitty would have no part of it.


He stumbled over the the refrigerator for yet another PBR.

By this time, Splitty was getting drunk.

Drunken mauls make for poor breakfast companions.


Splitty wandered out onto the patio and gazed over the courtyard.

It was cool, but nice weather. "Perfect day for a parade.", he muttered to himself through the barley induced fog in his head.


Splitty turned to me and asked,"Are you sure there're no St. Patrick's day festivities today?"

I assured him there would be none.


Splitty checked the computer one more time.

It was too much for him to bear. He had missed St. Patrick's Day.


Splitty tossed his beads off and threw a drunken temper tantrum in the closest chair.

I sort of felt sorry for his beer addled soul.

The wails of an angry, drunken maul are hard to forget.


Splitty regained his composure, donned his beads, and stumbled to the refrigerator for qnother PBR.

In the meantime, I set about to making some breakfast while listening to NPR's "Morning Report".

Pretty soon Splitty passed out.

I couldn't leave him sitting bolt upright in the chair, drunk. He could fall and hurt himself.


There was no choice but to carry his drunk butt off to bed.

At least in his dreams it will still St. Patrick's Day.

That is if mauls actually dream.

As for me, it's just another Friday. Time to get out, get some clam chowder, and enjoy the nice Spring day I've been given.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Gumbo Thursday

It's no secret that I enjoy making gumbo.

I'm very good at it.

I've had lots of practice.

So as not to repeat myself, here's the basic Air Traffic Mike Chicken/Sausage Gumbo recipe I posted some time back.

Today I was asked to come into the Majestic Grille and try Chef Patrick Reilly's gumbo recipe. As a nice, neighborly gesture, I made and brought in some of my gumbo for the good chef to try.

I came in last year one Thursday. I ordered the gumbo. I was disappointed. A rare occurrence here, but I can only classify it as just that. Apparently, they've been tweaking the recipe a bit. Patrick asked me yesterday if I was coming in for lunch today. He mentioned the gumbo was improved since the last time I had it.

The good chef is a culinary artist. I took him at his word and sauntered on down here today.

So how is Chef Reilly's gumbo recipe? I'm here to tell you it's outstanding.

Let me reiterate...........

OUTSTANDING!!!

It's rich, spicy, has just the right thickness, and is oh so satisfying on a blustery, rainy Spring day.

Before today, the gumbo here was okay. It was too thick with roux for my liking. Sure, it had a nice flavor, but I never ordered it after that first bowl last year.

That's all changed as of today.

I'm here every Wednesday for the chili and every Friday for their magnificent clam chowder.

Starting this week, lunch will be a three day affair at the Majestic Grille.

It really IS that good.

Courtesy of being up late last night making gumbo, I got all my laundry done. Gotta do something in between stirring the roux, peeling the chicken meat off the fryer, etc.

Looks like a Saucer afternoon playing a bit of online poker to pass the time.

It can rain all it wants to. The Saucer patio windows will be open letting the fresh air in.

Good enough for a rainy Spring day.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Meanwhile, Back At The Blog......

It's really good to be back home.

Especially in Spring.

I'm wearing shorts, a polo shirt, and a Phillies baseball cap.

Life is good and getting better.

I've been a bit slack in my writing of late. I have one project in particular that I need to get back up on. It's a fiction novel. The basic premise of the book is simple. It is set in the near future, so writing the history of the future is a bit daunting. Especially when the context has to fit the storyline.

However, tomorrow is supposed to be rainy with thunderstorms through the day.

That means my options are limited.

So, no long morning walk, no sitting on the rooftop patio playing guitar, no tooling about in my shorts.

However, it means (in no particular order) making some good homemade Italian bread, doing all my laundry, grilling some pork tenderloin, and making yet another pot of gumbo.

Gumbo again, really?

Yeah.

Patrick over at the Majestic Grille is going to bring out a new gumbo recipe he wants me to try. Patrick is an outstanding chef. Everything he makes is great. Try a new gumbo? No problem.

I'm just going to take him some of mine for contrast.

A lot of folks would be leery of taking their cooking into a restaurant for a chef to taste and compare.

I'm not one of them.

I learned how to make gumbo during my years in New Orleans. It's still one of my best dishes hands down.

In other news I've been reading the feedback from yesterday's blog. It was mostly well received, save for a few comments from folks who don't know the whole story.

It would have been easy to blast the person who blasted me in a private email. Thing is, she had scant few if any facts regarding the matter. While the tone of the email was terse and more than condescending, it was quite apparent she had next to none of the facts.

It was also apparent that not having the "facts" was really none of her fault. Her "information" was skewed by the person who gave it to her.

I sort of felt sorry for her. She came in with "guns a blazin'", only to find out she was given blanks to shoot.

Rereading it again this morning I was embarrassed for her. It is a sad day when a person you should trust implicitly to tell you the truth fails to do so.

I took the time this morning to respond to her privately. Normally, I would have posted her words here verbatim and torn apart her argument limb from limb.

I read and reread her email.

It was obvious that she had been mislead.

No way I was not going to give her a "pass", at least on that one.

Should she attempt to bring misinformation to me here, or in private again, then I'll have no choice but to air it out. Believe me, I'll do it in a "Hong Kong Heartbeat".

I tolerate fools and bullshit poorly.

To all the Pennsville kids on Facebook who wished us well and congratulated us, I thank you. You guys were the best growing up. I look forward to seeing you again soon.

To the person who wrote me yesterday in protest, I wish you and yours well.

Seriously.

Life's too short to act on lies and to be bitter over things not of your doing.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Friday Funday

I wish.

The Tigers have left the tournament.

An old friend and I spent an hour talking about her husband breaking his neck.

He should be working out, doing physical therapy. He's avoiding it like the plague.

He has been given a rare second chance.

He's blowing it.

I offered to come up next month.

It's likely you'll be reading my blogs from Massachusetts next month.

Could any of you sit on the sidelines and watch a friend do this to themselves?

Please don't tell me if you could.

He's a proud man. Once upon a time he played Division 1 football.

He was on the starting defensive squad.

God gave him many gifts.

Brains.

Athleticism.

Guts.

It was a harsh setback for him to break his neck in a fall.

It was not a "Death Sentence".

He's a bit impaired by the injury. He's not crippled.

Not physically.

I told his wife, if needed, I'll be up the first part of April. I'm pretty sure I'll be up there.

If he does nothing, he'll be stuck with what mobility he has. He needs to get out. He needs to walk. He needs to lift weights. He needs to push himself. I'm no paragon of fitness but I'm willing to go there and work with him.

She thinks he's "hiding" behind the injury.

I'm willing to go there, hold his hand, and lead him out if I can.

That's what friends do.

Even at the risk of his wrath.

Let him yell.

I've been yelled at by some of the best.

I'm willing to risk a friendship for this.

Bet I win.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Thursday Funday

Last night the weather turned ugly.

FUGLY ugly.

There's usually a short period of time from the flash of lightning and the BOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!

Not last night.

This morning was a different story.

Sunny.

Warm.

Inviting.

Us Tiger faithful took this to be a good sign from the Heavens. We dutifully assembled at Calhoun's on South Main. Surely cold, cheap PBR and Max's Habanero Hot Wings would soothe the basketball God's and grant us a win over the lowly Huston Cougars.

Maybe I should have donned my big, blue Afro wig.

Memphis came out flatter than a "cracked" out stripper with triplets.

My apologies to all the crackhead stripper single Moms out there. I'm just bitter.

The Tigers went on to lose by one point against a team they should have crushed

It would have locked in a NCAA berth for us. We still have a chance for the at large bid, but it requires others lose.

I'd rather lock in by winning.

For the record, Max's Habanero Hot Wings still reign supreme over all the other pretenders. Kooky Canuck's are a very, very, VERY close second.

The game being over, we all left with our Tiger tails between our legs and parted company.

I came back down to the Core, walked to the Majestic Grille, and had the gumbo.

Gumbo makes everything better.

Even a tough loss going into the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament.

*sigh*

As best I can tell, the world is still spinning.

The lovely Miss Chris will be here in seven days.

The Tigers still have a chance to make "The Dance".

And the gumbo is really, really, REALLY good.

That rates a "Win" in Air Traffic Mike's book.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

The Best Time Of The Year For Sports

...is right now.

Hands down.

"March Madness" is underway.

The NASCAR series is underway.

The NBA season is starting to really mean something.

The NHL season is starting to really mean something.

Sure, they both play WAY too many games in my opinion, but that's their economic reality.

Spring Training in baseball is well underway.

Two of the finest words ever put together in a sentence are, "PLAY BALL!!!!!".

In the forefront of all that?

Gotta be the "Madness" baaaaaaaayyyybeeeeeeeee!

The University of Memphis Tigers have staked a claim for an "at large" bid. This despite the former coach taking the NUMBER 1 RECRUITING CLASS IN THE NATION to the University of Kentucky with him.

Did the program falter, sputter, and roll over prostrate on the ground?

Not a chance.

The new coach, Josh Pastner, would have none of that.

He apparently took a page from Air Traffic Mike's book.

One I used to teach to controllers under my tutelage.......

"It's not about how you got here, it's what are you going to do right now?"

And its corollary............

"Panic is a wasted emotion."

He didn't panic. Panic wastes precious time and energy.

Coach went to work.

He assembled an outstanding staff. He got his men in shape. He taught them his system.

In the middle of all that, he went out and did the unthinkable.

He recruited the number one recruiting class in Men's Division 1 Basketball for 2010-2011.

How do you like us now Kentucky?

Josh Pastner had the chance to follow Coach Cal to Kentucky. It would have been easy. Big time program, long history, and a top flight paycheck as an assistant.

He chose to follow his dream.

In his first year he has the chance to take his program into the tournament.

Memphis isn't a lock to get into the tournament. "At Large" bids are decidedly subjective at the national level. Our best bet is to win the Conference-USA title outright. One win in the tourney should seal the deal anyway.

If we get in...........

When we get in.........

NCAA Gods?

Put us in the bracket with Kentucky.

We have a score to settle.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Grown Men In Bunny Ears

Some days this blog writes itself.

Yesterday afternoon around 4:00 PM I walked home to drop off the laptop.

These two fellows had apparently decided to have some fun with the passers by....


The original shot from the "Parking Can Be Fun" Garage......


A blow up of the same shot.

Well played Bunnymen, well played.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

First Shorts Day Of The Year

This is one of the best annual days of the year. I've always looked forward to it.

Yesterday should have been it, but I failed to pay attention to the weather closely enough.

Today is a bright, sunny, 75 degree Spring day.

I immediately deployed the khaki shorts and yellow Polo shirt.

Life is good and just getting better.

Unless you're the bum/scammer our good friends Paul and Mikey teamed up on to get arrested yesterday. Downtown Memphis scammers be warned. If you have an outstanding warrant, Mikey has your number.

It made Sunday Funday that much more fun, especially since that guy's scam was so odious.

So what does Sunday Funday look like after brunch?


Sort of like this. Patio beer and pool at the Flying Saucer.....


whose motto we're all loathe to argue with.

Yesterday was gorgeous.

Today is cut school, call in sick, play hooky gorgeous. Were I an employer, I would have closed up shop and given everyone the day off with pay and an ice cold six pack of beer.

Impromptu celebrations are the best.

Beautiful days deserve celebrations.

Always.

Today it's lunch at the Flying Saucer. They make a really nice cheese and sausage platter. Cheese and sausage makes the perfect light lunch a soft day like this deserves.


My choices? Black pepper sausage and Cotswold cheese.

The wine list here is much too limited for the platters they have.

Merely a minor inconvenience.

It's too pretty out to get upset.

Enjoy your day folks.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Best Medicine For A Chest Cold?

Some would tell you bed rest, fluids, and a nice hot bowl of soup.

In spite of my four year degree in aviation and years of experience in the field, I can safely say that I'm not a good doctor.

That has never stopped me from following my own routine in the face of practicing physicians.

It's in the mid 50's outside, blindingly sunny, and there's a light breeze blowing.

Therefore I'm fighting this blasted chest cold with a stroll, posting this blog, a big glass of unsweetened iced tea, and New England clam chowder from the Majestic Grille located here in downtown Memphis.

I spent five years in New England, have eaten the clam chowder in San Francisco from one of those little sourdough bread bowls, and I'm telling you I have never had a better clam chowder.

Before the New Englanders get all bowed up I can tell you I have eaten more than a couple of hundred bowls of the stuff in college, more in my travels back, several at the best restaurants in Boston. I will order it anytime it is on the menu anywhere. While some get close, none can touch the Majestic Grille's. It knocked Boston's Union Oyster House's version from the top of the heap for my tastes.

It is consistently outstanding.

Today I'm testing its medicinal value. I'm sure the AMA and the New England Journal of Medicine would have something to say about that.

Tough luck to them. Let them get their own sort of aviation/daily life/personal ranting space blog.

BTW, if anybody passes either one on the street tell them I'll consult for a nominal fee and a nice glass of Sauvignon Blanc. Always glad to lend a hand to the medical community.

In the meantime I do recommend that my Memphis friends looking for a lunch treat to come by today.

Patrick Reilly and the staff have done another magnificent job.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

My Take On The JFK Incident

So a guy takes his kid to work to work at JFK's control tower.

He apparently thinks it would be cute to let the lad talk on the radio to departing traffic.

It seems pretty harmless on the surface.

Unfortunately, he decided to let the child "parrot" control instructions to airliners. Twice over two days with two different children.

CONTROL INSTRUCTIONS....keep that term in mind.

Air traffic control is a pretty technical field that requires a great deal of training. It is based in the ability to work in three dimensions, the ability to take in a great deal of information on the fly, make good decisions, and have the ability to keep a running mental picture of what you're doing. Those are innate skills that can be honed, but are impossible to teach.

On the job training is conducted using mostly live traffic. The instructors have immediate override capabilities to stop a situation, correct an instruction, or stop a mistake from getting out of hand.

These are CONTROL INSTRUCTIONS.

Sometimes an instructor misses a mistake made by a trainee. We had a close call at New Orleans International Airport back in the 1980's when a supervisor conducting training missed a mistake by the fellow in training. The result was a Southwest Airlines jet coming within seconds of smashing into a helicopter off the departure end of Runway 28 operating at 5,000 feet. The helicopter was on top the the overcast ceiling, with the tops right around 4,900 feet. The departure controller assumed the traffic would be stopped below the helicopter. A final mistake sealed the deal when he issued the Southwest jet the wrong departure frequency. This jet climbed out, broke out the tops of the clouds with a helicopter in their faces.

You can imagine the helicopter pilot's reaction as the nighttime, cloudy skies suddenly lit up aswhen the Boeing 737 came screaming out of the formerly peaceful evening sky.

It was brutal for all concerned, even for the guys involved in the training.

You can't imagine how hard it can be to deal with the fact that you almost killed a bunch of people.

Years later I pried apart a Delta Airlines Boeing 737 and a Continental Express regional jet when my arrival controller transposed a number. It wasn't even my fault, but when the door closes at night and you go to bed it'll play havoc on your mental health.

"Control Instructions", whether they work fine or go horribly wrong have all sorts of liability that go with them.

A moment of inattention, a bad plan, just plain taking the job for granted in moments of low activity traffic have all yielded incidents and accidents.

Just like last year in Teterboro.

It may sound cute. I'm sure the child's father was watching him like a hawk and listening very carefully to every word he said.

Had he just let the kid get a "radio check" from somebody it would have had few consequences. "Radio Check" has no legal meaning in aviation. This child was giving instructions that tell the pilot the runway is clear, judged safe, and they may begin their departure roll. It places liability squarely on the Control Tower Operator.

Had anything happened there would be little defense in a court of law.

Fortunately tort laws are such that the Federal government indemnifies air traffic controllers from all but the most egregious mistakes and intentional acts.

When you're dealing with that many lives and millions of dollars of equipment, that's a lot of liability.

No matter how cute, the controller and supervisor involved had no authority to delegate that.

I always say, "That's why the phone call to

1-800-BAD-IDEA

...is free."

It was a stupid mistake. Twice.

That's why I have this feeling they are going to be made examples of.

There are days I miss the job and the people involved.

Today isn't one of them.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

A momentary lapse in judgement could have had disastrous results.

Bardog Breakfast, Day Two...

With all kidding aside I'm having pancakes.

Really good pancakes and bacon.

*waves at the lovely Ms. CSH*

:*

It's hard to beat a good breakfast and the Bardog has a great one. It has started drizzling outside. Hot flapjacks and crispy bacon make that all better.

I was hoping for a nice sunny day. We've had a number of those in a row. I've been spoiled by the warmer temps and sunny days. Today is grey, damp, and cold. Not a good March day.

Who am I kidding?

It's my day off.........again.

I'm eating pancakes and bacon, having a nice mimosa, and watching the world go by. I've got it really good.

Really, really good.

People are going to work. Some are stopping in for "to go" orders.

I'm holding down the corner, getting paid for typing something about nothing.

And I like it.

Someday soon I'll probably take up another career. Today I'll just be content to do nothing and report on that.

In 16 days I'll have more to report on.

Pictures too.

Today? Just a quiet, rainy day.

A good day for reflection.

A better day for trivia.

A perfect day to lay on the sofa, wearing sloughies, hanging with a cute girl.

Sadly, the cute girl is 962 miles northeast of here.

I'll just make due with the trivia and reflection.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

"Live From the Bar Dog Tavern........"

So here I am, sitting quietly in the corner. Brittany is holding down the bar and Ruby (the roller skater chick) has come in to do the books.

Egg sliders kick ass!

So does Ruby.

She's funny, sarcastic, and doesn't take herself too seriously. She takes those around her even less serious.

Who don't love girls like dat?

Me?

I've got my morning walk in,got the morning call to the girlfriend on, got my breakfast on, and getting my blog on.

Soon, off to the library.

However, I must say, I DO love the girlfriend.

My, oh my, I do love her.

I'm crazy in love.

Stooopid, in love.

MAAAAAAADDDDLLLLY, in love.

Get the idea?

CSH, can you hear me?

MADLY!!!!!

:*

We're both single this year.

We MAY not finish the year that way.

17 days love.

17 days.

Until the next time, all y'all take care.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.