Later Taters!

Gathering up the clean clothes, loading up the truck.

Suitcase?

Check.

Toiletries?

Check.

Fresh meats from the Italian Market?

Check.

Splitty the Maul?


Check.

Just a small wait while Christine drops off "Rhondo the Wonder Idiot" off to the dog sitter, and then we're on our way.

Virginia Beach today.

Nags Head in the Outer Banks tomorrow.

Family. Friends. New Year's weekend. The beach.

Sweet.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Sinking Like A "Rock"

More like "Rocky Top".

A few blogs ago, I posted this.

The University of Tennessee's Men's Basketball Team had just lost back to back games against two unranked opponents.

They dropped to #18 in the rankings. The polls were more than kind.

Last week they barely scraped out a win over the unranked Belmont Bruins, beating them 66-65 in a real "nail biter" at home.

The polls would not be so kind this week.

Here are today's polls.

In the "Associated Press" Poll (AP Poll), #25 Temple ended up with 122 points. Tennessee garnered some points, but 27 points is almost completely off the radar screen.

In the ESPN/USA Today Coaches Poll, #25 Illinois received 72 votes. Tennessee also garnered some votes, but 14 votes is also almost off the radar screen.

My late older brother always had a saying for moments like this. He'd tell me there's nothing better than hearing his favorite four words:

"Bruce......you were right."

He had his betting buddies for that sort of affirmation.

I have the blog.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

There's No Business Like Snow Business!!

Like every other day on the calendar, Christmas Day came and went.

I really enjoyed this year's. We celebrated by having Christine's family over to her house for brunch. We also were treated to some snow flurries through the day.

The beauty of brunch is that everybody can sleep in, it's not too late in the day for breakfast foods, and it comes with tacit approval to have an adult beverage.

I didn't partake of any adult beverages until later in the day.

Maybe I should have, though.

I might not have ended up burning my thumb and index finger on a hot pan. Moving the pancake pan seemed like a good idea at the time. The two big blisters on my left hand beg to disagree.

The get together broke up late in the afternoon. I walked down to my brother's house to drop off his Christmas present. By this time the air really felt and smelled like it was going to snow.

It's hard to explain the concept of "smelling like it's going to snow" to those who have never lived in the "Snowbelt". Once you're exposed to it, you'll understand right away.

Later, seeing as how it wasn't snowing yet, we drove over to Doc's place. I had a couple gifts for the boys and we hadn't seen Doc and his wife for a while.

The snow held off. Our "White Christmas" would be the few flurries.

Yesterday that changed.

The low pressure system finally moved into the region over the ocean. A "Nor'easter" storm soon followed. The snow began around noon. It intensified throughout the day. The coastal regions received in excess of 16 inches.

Over on the west side of the state, we got this:


The Sun finally broke through the departing overcast.


Christine's faithful little Corolla awaiting a clean off.


December's not been kind to the AirTrafficMobile the last two years.

Note to my fellow Memphanites: The windshield wipers were left up to keep the blades from becoming frozen to the windshield.

Right now the winds are gusting in excess of 40 miles per hour. Snow removal from the cars, driveway, and steps is futile.

Like Doc pointed out last year in between blizzards, "There's no reason to move it twice.".

He was right then. He's still right this morning.

For now I believe I'll piddle around the house and get a couple things done. Later, snow clean up.

The clean up should be low impact exercise. It was a "dry snow", "powder" if you would. Heavy, wet snows are killers. Yesterday's snow you can clean with a broom.

Still, that's for later on.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

T'was The Eve Before Christmas...

and all through the halls,
not a creature was stirring,


'cept Splitty the Maul.

The stockings were draped on the back of a chair.

Splitty the Maul yelled in mock horror, "Them thangs don't go THERE!!!".

"Rhondo the Wonder Idiot" was napping, slung up in his chair.


He always sleeps better with "Monkey Toy" there.

When out in the kitchen, there came such a clatter.


Rhondo caught Splitty eating food from his platter.

And that's when the fight broke out.

What's a holiday without a family fight?

Oh yeah, someone else's family.

Splitty was told, "Go apologize.".


He did so and then watched Chris make "Buckeyes".
Rhondo still fuming, left in a huff.
Splitty quietly muttered, "Hey boy, life's tough.".

I reminded them both that it's Christmas Eve,
and both should behave if in fact they believe.
Splitty and Rhondo quickly made up.
For Santa likes only good mauls and pups.

I close this Christmas blog wishing one and all cheer.
Health, wealth, and happiness for the coming New Year.
One final message for one and for all,
MERRY CHRISTMAS from Rhondo.........


and Splitty the Maul.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Dock Their Pay

I'm beginning to think I hate our Federal Legislators.

Particularly when it comes to them doing their jobs.

This last week a number of legislative items were passed in a feeding frenzy on Capitol Hill. Seems like they got more done in eight days than they did for the preceding twenty three months.

More than a few were pissed off. Instead of adjourning for their Christmas break last Friday, they had to stay through yesterday.

Those poor, poor overworked public servants. Most of the working schmucks are lucky to have today off in conjunction with the holiday. Most of those who had the entire week off are the long term unemployed.

So, in order to salvage any good out of the 111th Congress, they had to stay and finish up the work they had put off for months through various means.

One of those bills was compensation and health care for the "9/11 First Responders". In a country where the 2010 Federal Budget was $3.55 trillion, a package costing $4.2 billion isn't too much to ask. Those men and women went directly into harms way to save the lives of others.

Personally, I think they deserve more.

I was thinking of those folks as I read this article. I was happy that the Bill passed. However, my mood soured when I read the following:

"Even though the vote was kept open for more than an hour, 168 House members did not participate. Missing were 89 Republicans, including incoming Speaker John Boehner, and 79 Democrats.

Still, there was a quorum -- a simple majority of 435 House members -- to vote on the bill.


Many House members also were absent Tuesday. Some likely went home for the holidays after the earlier funding votes, while others were members who are retiring or lost re-election bids."

- - CNN.com 12/23/2010

In the rest of the working world that's called "being AWOL" (Absent Without Leave). Anybody else out there have a job you can just walk away from because it's inconvenient for your holiday plans?

The bastards should be held to the same standards as the rest of the government employees.

If I had the power, right now there'd be 168 people docked a couple days pay and out of work, starting with "America's Cry Baby", incoming Speaker of the House John Boehner.




I particularly like the second one where he says:

"..I didn't come here to be a Congressman. I came here to do something."

Yeah, like bolt out of town before finishing the work at hand.

That's REAL leadership right there, pal.

I wonder if he was just too distraught to vote on the 9/11 Bill?


Maybe he was busy handing out some "Holiday Money" from his good friends in the "Tobacco Lobby".

Hard to say. One thing is for certain, he wasn't at work.

He and 167 other dedicated public servants.

Dock their pay and fire them all.

I'd bet the rest would find a way to get their business done on time.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Death And Taxes

The two things in life you can't escape.

This morning I was reading a recent article about gambling revenues in New Jersey being on the decline.

This, of course, means the State of New Jersey's cut is also on the decline.

With an overtaxed budget breaking at every seam, it seems some members of the Legislature want to make sure that every available revenue stream is open and available.

Governor Christie seems to disagree. He, so far, has opted out of a lawsuit aiming to overturn the federal ban on sports betting that affects all but four states.

Early last year the New Jersey Senator leading the charge to overturn the ban gave the Governor grief over the matter.

For the record, the Governor said the State of New Jersey had more pressing issues.

I'm pretty sure the good Governor wanted to sort of "keep his hands clean" of anything related to gambling. Supporting the bill could cost him some of the national conservative voting base in the event he decides to run for a higher office in the future.

Christie would be the biggest thing in the White House since William H. Taft.

In the meantime sports betting is still illegal in New Jersey.

As I've frequently said here, I don't work on problems. I work on solutions.

The casinos are looking for new revenue streams. They need something new to bet on.

Sporting events are out.

Athletes aren't though.

Neither are television, radio, or media stars.

Famous people aren't either.

What if you could take advantage of celebrity without those annoying celebrity contracts and fees?

Yo, Atlantic City casinos, need a new game?

How about if we revive an old game and make it new.

Harry S. Truman often said, "The only thing new in the world is history that you don't know.".

How does a dead President tie into my idea?

You'll see in just a minute.

What would it look like if we modified the game of Keno? For those unfamiliar with Keno, it's a game where you select between four and twenty numbers from a range of one through eighty. The casino then draws the balls mechanically one at a time until twenty numbers have been selected. It's the same principle used in the state lotteries. Based on the numbers you selected correctly, you get paid a return.

The odds of winning in Keno are predictable. Here they are.

Now mind you that's based on twenty balls being selected out of a field of eighty balls.

What if the field was larger? What if we added the lure of celebrity and the lure and gore of death?

Atlantic City casinos, you heard it here first.

Set up a formal "Death Pool Keno".

The beauty of this is that you can adjust the odds just like at the racetrack. Here are some examples:


Betty White. Born in 1922. 88 years old. She's well past the average lifespan of a female living in the United States. She'd be even odds to start, dropping quickly to insanely low odds by the time the parimutuel betting is complete.

Since we're on the topic of New Jersey gambling, let's use one of our own next:


New Jersey Governor Chris Christie. Born in 1962, he's a relatively young man of 48 years old. He's also morbidly obese. If this guy were from a Native American tribe it would have been the "Tubbagoo" tribe. He's got to be one biscuit short of being a 350 pounder. The "Tubanator" would have to be no more than a 10 to 1 shot, falling quickly in odds as the parimutuel betting took it's toll on the final odds.


Miley Cyrus. Born in 1992 makes her just barely 18 years old. She seems to live a relatively healthy, young superstar life. She'd be a long shot to pass away in the coming year. Easily a 1,000 to 1 shot with not much improvement in the odds due to the low probability of her passing away.

The varying odds are sure to be a hit with all the gamblers.

Another nice fact is that you can make different pools based on different themes. Political pools, Sports pools, "Hall of Fame" pools, etc.. You can have as many pools as there are interests in the world.

The really nice thing is that the casinos would get the cash up front and not have to pay it out until the end of the year. Start the betting at midnight January 1, stop the betting at midnight January 15. Those who die while open bets are being taken are eliminated from the pool and are ignored at payout.

Free money to use for a year, interest free? That's better than a Wall Street junk bond any day.

The marketing angles are so numerous it's ridiculous.

"Draft Day" would take on a whole new meaning.

The "Death Parlor" would be the hottest ticket in town.

Celebrity endorsements and appearances would likely come at a cheap price from the old and forgotten stars. Wouldn't it be nice for them to maybe get one last hurrah and a rent check that one last time? Besides it will save some of them the embarrassment of pitching reverse mortgages, adult diapers, and diabetic supplies.

To keep it honest, you'll have to use real living people only. That will keep Hollywood script writers from playing God.

C'mon casino guys, give the folks what they want. There are "Death Pools" all over the Internet. People love to see stars and love to see which ones didn't make it to the drop of the ball come the next January.

Game odds in favor of the house, a touch of celebrity, casino profits, and the State of New Jersey finally finds a way to tax death one more time.

I think the Governor will be pleased.

See ya at the betting window.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

"Well....Ya See, What It Was, Was............"

I hate excuses.

Always have.

I don't want to hear them.

Listening to someone trying to excuse their way out of a situation of their own doing is one sure fire way to really piss me off.

Ask any one of the many air traffic controllers I helped train over the 25 years of my former career.

With very few exceptions, I verbally "ripped their heads off" at least once while performing on the job training.

Without exception, I did so when they refused to take full responsibility for making a potentially unsafe decision or potentially unsafe mistake during a training session.

Sounds pretty harsh, doesn't it.

Maybe it is, but I always valued the lives of the pilots and passengers whose safety was entrusted to me over the fragile egos of my trainees.

I always told them up front, "In aviation, if you mess up, fess up.". This as especially true as an air traffic controller. Everything a controller says is recorded and kept for a specified time period. Even if nothing went wrong. Back when I started, tapes were kept for 15 days if nothing happened. Now they are kept for 45 days. Radar data is now kept in the same manner.

If something did happen, the facts would present themselves no matter what your excuses were.

If you lied and got caught, the penalties were far worse than those imposed on you if you owned up to your part.

Yet, some of the folks still attempted to excuse their mistakes away or act like it didn't happen.

I was reminded of this the other day as I watched this interview with Bruce Pearl, head coach of the University of Tennessee's men's basketball team.

Mr. Pearl violated some minor NCAA rules in regards to having some unsigned recruits at his Knoxville home. He told the recruits not to mention it to anyone. Eventually, word got out that this had happened. The NCAA investigators inquired about the incident. Mr. Pearl lied. He acted as if it never happened. At a later date, the NCAA investigators presented pictures of Mr. Pearl and the recruits taken at his Knoxville home. Mr. Pearl told them he didn't recognize the setting.

For God's sake, who doesn't recognize their own home?

Oh yeah, Mr. Pearl. At least initially.

Finally, after a few weeks went by, Mr. Pearl went to his bosses at the university and told them he'd made a terrible mistake.

He had to tell them. The charges would be made public pretty soon.

A hasty press was called. Mr. Pearl read a statement regarding the investigation.

It's been ugly for him ever since.

His contract has been voided. His pay has been reduced. He may not have a job by season's end.

Personally, I think they should have fired him up front.

So do many others.

All this grief caused by lying about what would have amounted to a minor recruiting violation had he been up front and reported it right away.

By now, it would have all been forgiven and forgotten.

All he had to do was tell the truth.

So what does Mr. Pearl's saga have to do with truth in aviation?

Maybe Mr. Pearl needs to look up the story of Captain Kohei Asoh.

In a nutshell, Captain Asoh was attempting to land at San Francisco International Airport in November, 1968 on a rainy and foggy day. The good Captain was relying on his autopilot due to a piece of equipment being out of service. He failed to cross check the autopilot altitude with his instrumentation. The JAL DC-8, with 107 souls on board (96 passengers and 11 crew) landed short of the runway in the San Francisco Bay.

The good news was that there were no injuries.

The bad news was that it's hard to explain how you just dropped an airliner into the water.

An investigation by the National Transportation Safety Board ensued. When questioned, Captain Asoh took full responsibility, blaming nobody or anything but himself and his actions. Reportedly, he did so in what may be the shortest, clearest statement ever given to the NTSB:

"As you Americans say, I f*cked up."

This became known as "The Asoh Defense".

Had Mr. Pearl invoked "The Asoh Defense" from the beginning, he'd probably be having a fine holiday season.

Because he didn't, he will spend the first eight games if the SEC Conference schedule barred from the games. He will be wondering if he'll have a job at Tennessee, or anywhere else for that matter, this time next year. The NCAA can impose some very tough sanctions on the program he's running. They could far outlast him if he's terminated.

This could be the end of his career and he knows it.

It could have all been avoided if he'd just manned up early, took a deep breath, and said, "I f*cked up."

We'll just have to wait and see.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Now Leaving The Top 25

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

The NCAA Men's basketball "Gods" giveth, the NCAA Men's basketball "Gods" taketh away.

"Dear University of Tennessee Men's Basketball Fans:

Losing to an unranked "mid-major" team at home is bad enough for your precious, soon to be formerly ranked #7, men's team. Congratulations to the Oakland Golden Grizzlies for a fine victory.

Following that up with an embarrassing road loss to another unranked "mid-major" team is the death knell for your "Top Ten" ranking. Congratulations to the UNC-Charlotte 49ers. Damn proud of ya, fellows.

You can rest assured your team won't see a #7 ranking this week.

Best wishes,

NOT!!!!!!!

Air Traffic Mike, ret"

The "Vols" can forget those wins over Villanova and Pittsburgh. They'll be of little comfort as the "Vols" enjoy their one and out in the NIT.

That's if the NIT will have them, their coach Bruce Pearl, and his NCAA violations.

Pearl has been proven to be a major embarrassment. I think Jay Bilas said it best in his blog yesterday.

I can only hope the University of Tennessee will finally do the right thing come season's end. Pearl should have been terminated immediately.

In the meantime, I'm just going to enjoy watching the Vols go into a free fall when the new "Top 25" rankings come out.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

For those "Vols" fans who are having trouble coping with this week's games, help is available.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Let It Snow!

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

In The Spirit

Every year it takes me time to get into the Christmas spirit.

Some years it takes place around Thanksgiving. Some years it takes place in early December.

One year it didn't happen.

This year it happened this morning.

We bought a tree earlier this week. Two days ago I put it into the stand, watered it, and brought it in. Christine brought down the lights and put them on. It was lit, but still a very plain little tree.

Last night after dinner Chris started hanging the ornaments. I wasn't really interested, not being in the mood. I was tired from a combination of an early wake up, a few toddys and a glass of wine with dinner, and the late hour.

I kissed her goodnight and went to bed.

This morning I woke up and noticed the living room was lit up.

I walked into the room and was met with this:


Christine did a beautiful job. For me, this was a whole load of "happy" at first sight.

As if that wasn't enough to get me in the Christmas spirit, the radio I had on reported there's a chance of snow this afternoon.

With the current temperature hovering around 19 degrees, there's a good chance it's going to stick.

Snow...........Christmas Tree.........a nip in the air.

Perfect.

My Christmas shopping list is small this year. I have a few things I want to pick up. Today's the day for that. I'm finally in the mood. There's still plenty of days to go shopping so the pressure is not on yet. I actually know exactly what I'm getting for the folks I'm giving gifts to. That's a rare occurrence.

Today I only have one thing scheduled that I need to do. It'll be done by 12:30 pm. After that it's off to the stores.

Nothing can bother me right now.

Crowds? There will always be crowds shopping near the holidays.

Traffic? It can't be worse than trying to drive through Houston, Texas at rush hour on a hot Summer day with no air conditioning.

Snow? I grew up in the stuff. It doesn't even faze me until it gets higher than two feet.

It's officially the Christmas season for me.

Hopefully, it is for you folks too. If it isn't, hopefully it will be soon.

Merry Christmas all y'all.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

BREAKING NEWS: NFL Levies Record Fine

This afternoon, the NFL levied a record $500 million fine against God for excessive celebration and conduct detrimental to the NFL for his actions at the Metrodome Sunday morning.



Neither God nor his agent had any comment.

Caught On Video: Sweden Suicide Bomber

WARNING: Graphic Material.

I never did trust this guy....



Good riddance.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Cold Weather Cooking ---- Chicken Pot Pie

To me there's nothing like cooking "comfort food" on cold, blustery nights.

Last night, we were supposed to go to a Christmas party. Neither of us was feeling well. We have both been fighting colds and have been busy all week. On top of that, the winds were gusty with a chance of rain.

Try as we might, neither of us could muster up the enthusiasm to get dressed up and go out.

Besides, I had gone to the market and stocked up on some good groceries, including the ingredients necessary to make chicken pot pie.

Chicken pot pie has long been one of my favorite dishes. My mother made the best. Using Mom's recipe, I set out to recreate a childhood favorite.

I didn't nail it, but came awful darned close.

It goes something like this:


Place 1.5 pounds of boneless, skinless chicken breast in a Dutch oven and cover with cold water. Add three bay leaves, one peeled and trimmed carrot, and one washed stalk of celery. Break the carrot and celery in half. Simmer 45 minutes or until the chicken breast breaks apart easily.


Chop 1/2 medium white onion, one stalk of celery, and one carrot. Saute in 2 tbspn. butter. Set aside.

Dice one large peeled white potato. Place into microwave safe bowl, covered with plastic wrap leaving a small opening to allow steam to escape. Microwave the potato pieces for 2:30 minutes at 70% power. Uncover potatoes, stir, recover, and repeat the previous microwave instructions. Set aside.

When the chicken breast is tender, remove from the liquid. Remove the celery, carrot, and bay leaves, discarding all. Add one can of chicken stock to the pot. Bring the liquid up to a hard boil for 15 minutes.


After the liquid has reduced for the 15 minutes, stir one can of Campbell's Cream of Celery Soup. Lower heat to medium and allow to come back to a simmer. Simmer for 15 minutes. After the 15 minutes is up, add a slurry made from 1/2 cup of milk and 2 tbspn. all purpose flour. Season liquid with 1/2 tspn. ground thyme, 3/4 tspn. rubbed sage, 1/2 tspn. black pepper, 1/4 tspn. salt. Simmer until thick.

Place cast iron skillet in oven and preheat to 350 degrees.


Mix sauteed vegetables and potatoes in large mixing bowl. Tear chicken breasts into pieces, add to vegetables/potatoes.

When the chicken stock/celery soup thickens, add to chicken breast/vegetable mixture.

The crust is pretty easy. Melt one stick of butter. Mix 1 cup of Bisquick and 1 cup of milk in a bowl. Stir melted butter into mixture.

Now, it's time to put it all together. Remove hot skillet from oven. Pour chicken/vegetable/soup mixture into skillet. Pour the Bisquick mixture over the top. Bake in 350 degree oven for one hour.


Let sit for 10 minutes.

Serve.

Enjoy.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Cold Weather Food

Probably some of my favorite recipes fall into this category.

Maybe it's just me, but in the late Fall/Winter, the warmth and aromas of the stove and oven being used simultaneously take me back to my childhood. Weekends in particular.

Dad's chili. Mom's vegetable soup. Beef stew made by either. Grandmom's veal and peppers or lamb stew. Any sort of pot pie, especially beef or chicken. Rolls in the oven.

The Hell with oxygen bars. Want to make people feel better? Open up a "Home Cooking Aroma Bar".

Who doesn't feel better smelling a chicken roasting in an oven?

Okay, besides the members of PETA.

After dropping Christine off at the office yesterday, I came home, sat down, and started making a grocery list.

Given the fact that snow flurries had begun to fall, I knew it was going to be a good day for the grocery store's bottom line.

List in hand, I set out in the AirTrafficMobile. I had a recipe in mind for today and needed some things to finish it out. The plan was to go in, shop exclusively off the list, and get out quickly and on budget.

That plan went right to Hell shortly after I walked in the store.

Oh, things were fine while I was in the produce section. I picked up the celery, carrots, bananas, and apples without straying from the list.

I made a right turn out of produce and headed towards the meat department.

A junkie locked in a pharmacy had a better chance of maintaining control than I did.

It started when I saw Cornish game hens on sale. My mind went wild thinking of the possibilities roasting game hens presented. In the basket they went.

Eye round roast of beef looked good. Into the basket it went.

Leg of veal roast, anybody? In.

Family tray of chicken thighs? WOW! LOOK AT THE PRICE!!!!!! In.

Did someone say, "Scrapple"? Two pounds, please.

I looked into the basket and cross checked it against my list.

Head bowed in shame, I crumbled the list and threw it away in a nearby trash can.

Twenty minutes after I should have already been home, I rolled into the checkout line.

What should have been two grocery sacks turned into ten.

Maybe I should rename the AirTrafficMobile the Cornucopia.

I got home, put the load of groceries away, and waited for Chris to come home from work.

She arrived home, went to the refrigerator, and was a bit taken back by the newly formed "meat department" in her refrigerator.

We discussed dinner options. I told her, "We can have anything you want for dinner, but I'd like to save the chicken breasts to make chicken pot pie tomorrow night." She mumbled something, but I didn't hear it.

She could have shouted, "FIRE!!!!!!!!!" at that moment and I wouldn't have heard it.

I suddenly realised, that in my meat buying frenzy, I had destroyed my shopping list just a bit too soon.

On that list, but not in my basket, my car, or any place other than the trash can and the shelves in the store was a line item that read, "Chicken Stock".

I let out a little huff.

Chris asked me what was wrong.

Sheepishly, I admitted that in my haste and euphoria, I tossed the list and had forgotten one key ingredient for the pot pie.

I sensed a tiny laugh.

Anyway, we decided that breakfast for dinner sounded good. Breakfast or dinner is one of my favorite cold weather meals.

I got out one block of scrapple and reached for the eggs. The "eggs" carton was noticeably lighter than it should have been. I optimistically opened it up only to find one egg.

Our best guess was that Christine's daughter made herself some eggs the night she came over to pick up Rhondo. She had agreed to watch him while we were at the shore this week.

Hey, exchanging some eggs for four days of "Rhondo sitting" is a lot cheaper than taking him to a kennel.

Chris, being a good sport about the whole shopping matter, went over to a nearby market and bought the eggs and two cans of chicken stock for me.

No good deed goes unrewarded, especially when I'm cooking.

Therefore, tonight.......my homemade chicken pot pie baked in my big cast iron skillet. Tomorrow, pictures and the "can't miss" recipe that has become my favorite over the years.

If I close my eyes and concentrate enough, I might even get to hear Mom's voice when it's in the oven.

I can only hope.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Meanwhile, Back At The Beach

This morning's sunrise.

Late Fall mornings are among my favorite for taking pictures at sunrise.

It's been pretty cold here at the shore. The winds have been blowing pretty hard, but not so bad that it made going outside impossible.

Christine is on day two of a Realtors convention over in Atlantic City. I must say we've really enjoyed being down here. Our friends Thomas and Beryl have been kind enough to let us borrow their vacation home for a few days.

Once again, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank them for their kindness and generosity. Having friends like them is truly a blessing.

I have to be honest with you folks, conventions are foreign to me. I spent my career with the government. Not once in twenty five years did I attend a conference or convention. First off, they are really not my style. Secondly, there are relatively few conventions for air traffic controllers. Most importantly, I had little to no desire to spend my time off from work, talking to folks who did what I did for a living, about work.

That's what the "after work beer" was for.

Yesterday morning I dutifully dropped Chris off at the Convention Center early in the morning. She had to register and do all her pre-convention things prior to the start.

I came back here. A repairman was scheduled to stop by and fix a thermostat. He showed up mid-morning and did his thing.

That meant the rest of the day was mine.

I had lunch at a nice little Irish Pub around the corner, came home, and rested. Chris would be done late in the afternoon so a little nap sounded good.

As luck would have it, Chris got done early. She called. I went out to the truck only to see a sheet metal screw sitting in the tread of my right front tire.

"Insert muttered string of *CUSS WORDS* here".

I eyed it up carefully. The tire was still round. The screw was in tight. I only had a few miles to drive. I knew there'd be at least one repair shop somewhere in a city this size.

Off I went.

Picking up Chris went without a hitch. I told her the situation. As I drove away from the Convention Center she got on her Blackberry and looked for auto repair places. She found one about one mile from the Convention Center, plugged it into the GPS, and off we went.

In a matter of "white knuckle" minutes we were there.

I told the guy the situation at hand. It was at that time I also remembered my full sized spare also had a nail in it. Two tire patches and $50 later, we were out of there.

Seeing as we were within spitting distance of the casinos, we decided to participate in the economic recovery.

I pulled in to the Tropicana parking garage and we set about to break the bank.

After two hours of slot machine play and being within ten dollars from where we started, we decided to have dinner.

For the record, the Tropicana Hotel and Casino has a fine selection of restaurants from which to choose.

We opted for Red Square.

My goodness, what a treat!

I ordered some drinks. More on that in a moment.

Chris started with an Arugula Salad with blue cheese and spiced walnuts.

For our entrees Chris ordered Beef Stroganoff, I ordered my always favorite Rib Rack of Lamb.


Christine's Beef Stroganoff. It was made with beef tenderloin and topped with crispy fried potatoes. I tried some of it. It comes with my highest recommendation.


My rack of lamb over mashed root vegetables served with steamed asparagus. It was as fine a rack of lamb as I've ever had.

Note the martini glass in the back of the shot. That was round two of the drinks I ordered us. It was made from chilled Zyr vodka, served with three blue cheese stuffed olives.

They were a bit pricey, but well worth the price. I don't know that I've ever had a smoother vodka.

Well done, Zyr.

This morning some of Christine's co-workers picked her up for the convention. That allowed me to go get four new tires on the AirTrafficMobile.

The folks at Goodyear were on the ball. I got in and out in less than one hour.

I made a brief stop at Harrah's before coming home. Once again, a draw.

In any gambling situation I will take a draw after being down for most of the visit.

Besides, I was getting hungry.

I made a return visit to the Irish pub. The roast beef was real roasted beef, piled high on rye, covered with Swiss cheese, and served with a fine horseradish sauce. The homemade potato chips were an excellent side.

I couldn't have been happier or better fed.

Seeing as how the beach was just around the corner, I decided to drive over there.

Splitty the Maul got all excited.

Do you REALLY think we could get away without Splitty tagging along?

It took just a few moments to reach the beach.

Before I could get the truck doors locked, Splitty had run up to the promenade overlooking the water.


Splitty began immediately searching the waters for pirates.

Most mauls want to be pirates I've been told.

Splitty asked if I could take a picture that brought out his rugged good looks.


I tried.


A view looking north down the promenade. Splitty still scanning for pirate ships.


Splitty did NOT approve of all the restrictions placed on using the promenade, but he noted that there were no restrictions on mauls.


Maul friendly beaches are few and far in between. Splitty approved of this one.

Pretty soon it was time to head back to the beach house. Christine was going to be finished by 5:30 pm.

Splitty decided to stay at the house, I went and picked up Christine.

With the blog now finished, we can decide on where and what to eat.

Tomorrow, a bit of friendly cleaning at the beach house and some diet unfriendly food.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Move Over Harry Caray

Ron's coming home.

Sadly, on Thursday, Ron Santo died from complications of bladder cancer.

For those of you that don't know of Ron Santo, I'll give you a brief run down of his career.

Professional baseball player from 1960-1973 with the Chicago Cubs, 1974 with the Chicago White Sox. 365 doubles, 67 triples, 342 home runs, 1,138 runs scored, 1,331 runs batted in, lifetime batting average .277, and a fielding percentage of .954 playing third base. He was a nine time All Star and the only third baseman in the history of Major League Baseball to have eight consecutive seasons hitting 90 RBI's or more.

Ron Santo was the benchmark by which the rest of the National League third basemen were judged by. The "hot corner" was his domain, winning a total five Gold Gloves. He remains the best third baseman who's not been inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

For those 14 seasons, he hid a terrible secret. He was living on borrowed time. At 18, the doctors told him and his parents his life expectancy was about 25 more years. He proved them wrong, but had the powers that be known of it, he might have been forced into an early retirement or never played professionally at all.

Ron Santos was born with Type 1 diabetes, a fact he didn't make public until he retired.

As a youngster I always admired his play. It didn't matter to me that he wasn't on the Phillies, I had his baseball cards. He was good year after year.

Over the years I'd almost forgotten about him. That's how life is sometimes. The career, a couple of moves, getting married, it all adds up.

That is until one night in Memphis.

I was in our backyard on a Summer night, listening to Jack Buck and Mike Shannon calling a St. Louis Cardinals game. Hearing Jack and Mike call a ballgame was truly a treat. They didn't engage in constant banter. You could hear the game, the fans, and sometimes even the vendors yelling.

Calling a baseball game like that is becoming a lost art.

In this case, the Cardinals were playing their longtime foes, the Chicago Cubs. As they went to a commercial, Jack Buck announced that they'd be having a guest in the booth the next inning, one of the Cubs announcers.

They came back from break and introduced the color man for the Cubs WGN radio team.

Ron Santo.

Ron had been working for WGN since the early 1990's.

It was fun to hear the three of them talk baseball for the few minutes they had available. Mike Shannon was a contemporary of Ron Santo, having played third base for the St. Louis Cardinals until 1970. There was some good natured ribbing between the three, but all too soon they had to part company and get back to the task at hand.

Just for grins I tuned the radio to WGN. WGN is a "clear channel" station broadcasting with 50,00 watts of power. On a good night they were easy to pick up in Memphis.

I found the station and listened to the rest of the game.

It made me an instant Ron Santo (the radio announcer) fan.

After I got divorced, one of my favorite things to do was sit on the roof top patio at the condo and switch stations between the Cardinal and Cubs baseball broadcasts.

Unlike most broadcasters who maintained a professional distance from the home team, he was an unabashed fan. Listening to him call the game was like sitting next to a fan in the stands. He cheered, groaned, and rooted the Cubs on as if he was still sitting in the dugout with the guys.

In a lot of ways, he was.

The diabetes however would extract a toll. He lost his right leg below the knee in 2001, his left leg below the knees in 2002. Those legs that allowed him to turn 389 double plays from third base, a record broken by Mike Schmidt, were forever gone.

It didn't stop Ron Santo. He continued on.

Apparently this Summer past, he began to feel weak. At 70 years of age, with diabetes, that's understandable. He confided to his co-workers that he might stop calling road games and just broadcast the games from his beloved Wrigley Field. A few weeks later, he signed a three year extension on his contract to continue broadcasting all the Cubs games.

Later he learned he was suffering from bladder cancer.

It was the one setback he couldn't overcome.

There are few men who are iconic in baseball broadcasting. Us Phillies fans were lucky to have By Saam, Harry Kalas, and Richie Ashburn.

Jack Buck in St. Louis was a master at his craft.

Bob Uecker makes you feel like you've known him all your life.

Harry Caray was a show in and of himself.

Ron Santo was one of us.

That's something he shared every game.

That's one of the many things that made him special.

Maybe now the voters for the Baseball Hall of Fame will do the right thing.

Goodbye Ron.

God bless you and thank you.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

'Tis The Season

Wow, I can't believe it's already December.

The first eleven months hardly seem like a week.

I'm sure this month will go by quickly too.

After all, December is a month of celebration.

Christmas will be here before we know it.

Kwanzaa will be celebrating it's 44th anniversary this year at months end. I suppose that's a milestone for a made up out of nowhere holiday.

Festivus, also in it's 44th year, is only three weeks away.

Of course, let us not forget Hanukkah, which began yesterday.

Celebration after celebration after celebration.

This morning, as I sat in front of my laptop computer, I had an epiphany. If people can make up their own holidays, why can't I?

Apparently there are no rules against it.

First, I had to decide what I was going to celebrate.

To get people on board, the celebration would have to have a universally accepted theme.

Most of the people I know are "foodies" at varying levels. Those that aren't still eat.

Okay, my holiday season would celebrate food.

Next I had to give it a catchy name. Let's face it, if you're going to start your own holiday, you have to be ready for some fast and furious marketing.

Citing Kwanzaa's co-opting the candle holder from Hanukkah, I decided that my best bet would be to "borrow" from one of the existing celebrations.

I carefully thought the problem over running the words "food", "celebration", and "existing holiday" over and over in my head.

Then I had another epiphany.

With two distinct epiphanies, I knew I was on the right track.

I love any and all things "food". There's only one person I know who loves food more than I do.

Okay, especially if it's on YOUR plate or even better, free.

That would be our lovely little friend Rebecca, better known as "The Nuh-Uh Girl".


The "Nuh-Uh Girl" in action at the business end of a free cupcake.

You can see more of her over at my friend Paul Ryburn's blog. Just type "nuh-uh girl" in the handy search box at the upper right corner of the blog.

It's an impressive body of work.

Oh, and while you're there, make sure to buy Paul a beer. It's the perfect holiday gift, wrapped just the way Paul likes it, and whatever size it is, it will fit Paul.

Anyway, back to my new holiday.

Rebecca does indeed like food. Free food is among her favorite, but I have seen her drop a pretty good dime on some fine dining fare. She's not afraid to admit she likes the politically incorrect food known as foie gras. If I need a recommendation or an opinion on a restaurant I listen carefully to what she has to say.

I continued my brainstorming seesion. I remembered, "Oh yeah, Rebecca is a Jewish girl. The Jewish have a celebration that reaches into December!".

Epiphany number three. I could borrow from the traditions of my Jewish frends, just like the black guy who invented Kwanzaa did.

So, without much fanfare and even less permission, I co-opted "Hanuhkkuh" and modified it for my own use.

With the name in place, I carefully selected the dates. I figured six days was good enough for me.

Therefore, by proclamation signed by Splitty the Maul, self proclaimed "King of All New Holidays",


(shown here in his Virginia office)

the six days after Hunuhkkah will now be celebrated as "HaNuh-Uh-kkah".

Hanuhkkah is called "The Festival of Lights". "HaNuh-Uh-kkah" will be known as "The Festival of Light Eating".

As such, the following traditions will be followed by all observers every day:

Day 1: You will eat your dinner, in small portions, off the plates of no less than four of your friends.

Day 2: You will spend most of your work day texting and updating your status on social media.

Day 3: You will eat at least one meal by sampling all the items being given away at either a Costco or Sam's Club.

Day 4: You will hang close to the radio and score free tickets to an upcoming event.

Day 5: You will workout, post it online for all to see, then go bar hopping making sure you post your current location via Foursquare. You will score a free late night snack by sampling food from acquaintances' appetizers.

Now then, seeing as how "The Nuh-Uh Girl" is sort of the basis for some of the traditions, it's only fair that my Downtown Memphis observers show their thanks to her.

She's a good sport and fun to hang out with. Therefore:

Day 6: Take "The Nuh-Uh Girl" out for a nice glass of wine, a beer, or a dessert and be thankful for the things you have including the ablilty to share with your friends.

For those not in Memphis, who don't know "The Nuh-Uh Girl, or have a previous engagement, please observe the following:

Day 6(modified): Take any friend out for a nice glass of wine, a beer, or a nice dessert and be thankful for the things you have including the ability to share with your friends.

Six days.

Six crazy days.

You get to eat other people's food.

You get to play on the computer and/or smart phone.

You get to eat various foods that would normally never be served together, as one big meal of light eating.

You get to win something.

You get exercise, rewarded with a free snack.

No presents to buy.

No cards to send (subject to change if it's profitable).

No religious guilt or pressures.

On a good night you might get to eat some of "The Nuh-Uh Girl's" food if you're lucky enough to know her.

Drinking and responsible bar hopping is mandatory.


Splitty the Maul, demonstrating irresponsible bar hopping.

What's not to like?

With all the other holiday stuff going on, I'm wishing each and every one of you a very "Happy HaNuh-Uh-kkah"!

Let the free dining begin!

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.