Post Hurricane Clean Up

It's a sad fact that after every hurricane there will be some cleaning up to do.

Christine's yard was no exception.

I sat down and discussed the situation with the only person I could think of that would have an idea as to where to start.


Splitty the Maul.

Now Splitty might seem like an odd choice as a "lawn debris consultant".

He's actually well versed in the topic.

Pictures don't lie.


He's cut grass.....


.....he's hauled trash.....


.....and he cuts a mean deck of cards.

I think that's more than enough evidence to prove his expertise.

We sat down at the kitchen table.

Splitty's only advice was, "Put the noodle dog to work!"

It was brilliant in its simplicity.


I immediately grabbed "Boney Billy" and put him on the job.

Using what I like to refer to as, "Dachshund Ingenuity", Billy was soon hard at work.


Using his tether, he gathered up the massive piles of branches covering the front yard.


Unfortunately, his tether would not reach far enough around the corner of the house where the plethora of leaves ended up.

I consulted once again with Splitty the Maul as to what my next course of action should be.

Splitty had already come up with a contingency plan if Billy couldn't deliver.


"God put 'em there, let him clean 'em up.

Folks, you just can't teach that sort of logic.

I brought Billy in off his tether, gave him a cheese treat in spite of his failure on the leaves, and initiated the "God's Mess Plan".

I'll update you on God's progress later in the week.

In the meantime, I had errands to run.

While I was out, I stopped down at the Delaware River. It was supposed to crest around 1:00 PM.

Sure enough, it did.


Looking at the boat ramp.


Looking upriver to the north.

Looks like the folks at the end of the block just barely stayed above high tide.

Some of you might remember that boat ramp from a previous blog.

I'll close with a musical number and the late, great "Rhondo the Wonder Idiot" in his music video debut:

"Rhondo's River Run!"



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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Sunday FunDay, The Hurricane Edition

The worst of Hurricane Irene hit here in the overnight hours.

With our preparations complete, we had nothing else to do other than wait to see if we would have to make an emergency escape.

Most of the stress that comes from hurricanes is the "unknown" factor that naturally comes with it.

For example, we had everything we needed to stay here in case we lost electricity and water. Staying put in a storm is stressful because you are worried you will get hit hard. That means you may lose your home, your possessions, and maybe your life. However, you most certainly get by without the first two of those. The upside is that you are home. There's a great deal of comfort in that.

After careful consideration, we opted to do just that.

However, in order to stay home in a storm, you have to be ready to get out.

I mean get out in a hurry.

In a hurry, but safely.

In our case, we had our backpacks loaded with three days clothes, seven days medicines, toiletries, and some survival basics such as candles and matches. We had plenty of cash on hand as a "just in case". We also had a 12 pack of bottled water at hand, ready to go out the door if the house was breached by water or wind.

In the days leading up to the storm, I walked around the house and looked at any possible, and all probable, impediments to leaving the house safely.

Most people don't take that into consideration.

I'm not one of them.

I looked to see where the power lines came into the house and into the detached garage. If they broke free at the point at which they were attached to the structures, I made a mental note as to where they would fall. Live wires are often overlooked when leaving a damaged building, but they are always fatal on contact. I sat down with Christine and reviewed the plans for protection from tornadoes and safe egress from the house.

If any of you folks take anything from this blog today, remember that. It would suck for you and/or yours to survive a catastrophic storm only to have one/all electrocuted as you/them/all left the wreckage of the building.

With all that said, Christine went to bed. I told her I would stay awake until the most dangerous part of the storm passed.

We were lucky. The electricity stayed on. I had the television on in the living room and my lap top computer on here at the kitchen table. Between the two of those I monitored the situation, was able to see where the hurricane was based on the weather reports on cable and METAR reports from airports along the path of the storm.

A METAR report is an hourly meteorological conditions report. The weather is taken once an hour at airports under normal conditions, more often if the weather changes significantly during the hour.

Here's an example of a METAR report:

KILG 281851Z 27019G32KT 10SM FEW038 BKN049 24/19 A2948

Looks like a bunch of gobbledy gook, doesn't it?

Here's what it means:

(KILG) = New Castle County Airport.

281851Z = 28th day of the month, 18:51 UTC.

10SM = Visibility 10 statute miles

27019G32KT = Winds out of the west, 270 degrees at 19 knots gusting to 32 knots.

FEW038 BKN049 = Few clouds at three thousand eight hundred, ceiling four thousand nine hundred broken.

24/19 = Temperature 24 degrees Celsius, dew point 19 degrees Celsius.

2948 = Barometric pressure.

By comparing the weather, especially the barometric pressure, I could track the storm as it left the region the airport was in, and therefore keep track of what was going on around us.

By 3:45am, most of the really dangerous weather had passed us by. What was left was light to moderate rain and occasionally gusty winds.

I felt comfortable enough to finally turn in.

Our backpacks were still bedside in case we had to hit the basement and then the road.

Hey, it wasn't all doom and gloom.

We cooked some really good food through the day.

Earlier in the day, Christine picked some juicy, ripe figs from the backyard...


and simmered them in honey, lemon juice, lemon zest, and water.....


.....and then made a nice pan of fig bars.

Not wanting to be left out.....


.....I put together a nice pot of beans and ham.....


.....and made some nice big bowls of "Happy".

Today we rested and put things back in order.

Oh, and we thanked the good Lord for our safety and that of our neighbors and friends.

Remember what I said about, "Home", "Possessions", and "Life"?

Without the last, nothing else matters.

I'm glad to be here to type that, and glad for all y'all to be here to read that.

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

Air Traffic MIke, ret.

So Here We Are

After careful consideration, taking in to account all the variables involved, we opted to ride out Hurricane Irene right here in in South Jersey.

I guess we'll find out if it was a good decision over the next 24 hours.

The first of the storm's outer bands started through the area right about 11:00 am.

I was out picking up a few last minute items. We had run out of paper towels. I figured while I was out I'd pick up some extra toilet paper, some red beans to cook with a ham hock this afternoon, and maybe some ice if I was lucky.

As I pulled into the market around the corner, I was met by this scene in the parking lot:


Here's a nautical rule of thumb. If the seagulls aren't going near the water, neither should people.

I was surprised that I was able to get in and out of the market relatively quickly. I was able to fill every item on my list except for, naturally, ice.

Seeing as how I made good time at the market, I headed down the street to check one more possible source of ice. The local liquor store.

It was worth a try. I've had luck with them before.

Seems like a lot of other folks have had luck with the liquor store before as well. The locks on both ice freezers pretty much told me everything I needed to know. As a consolation prize I picked up a half gallon of vodka. I also took the opportunity to wish the clerks on duty well. I'm sure they would rather be with their families today as opposed to working.

Especially with an approaching storm like Hurricane Irene.

So far I feel comfortable with the decision to stay. It's been a quiet day since morning. Christine fielded calls from her brother, sister, and parents. I talked to "Sis" down in Virginia Beach. With all the check ins complete we started cooking.

Frankly, it's been rather relaxing.

Bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast for breakfast.


Christine is cooking down some fresh figs from the backyard for some fig bars.

I'm getting ready to put a pot of ham and beans on.

The worst of the storm is still well south of us. It made landfall. As expected, that has caused the storm to weaken slightly.

I doubt that I'll sleep this evening, nor tomorrow, until the storm has passed. That's something I've done since my days in New Orleans. I figure if a tornado is coming I'd just as soon be wide awake.

Not that I'd mind dying in my sleep. I just don't want to die in my sleep in spinning pile of debris doing 200 miles per hour.

It's time to put the beans on.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Next Up, The River

I lived in the New Orleans area from June, 1984 until January, 1989.

New Orleans is a low lying area surrounded by water, marshes, swamps, and canals.

I hadn't been at the New Orleans International Airport air traffic control tower long when an old timer I was training with said, "Living here must be a big change from living in New Jersey.".

I talked about the differences in the food, the culture, and big city living versus small town living.

Frank, "Fox Fox" was his nickname, had lived in New Orleans all his life. He had never been to New Jersey, but had seen the pictures of all the factories and highways.

Unfortunately, that's an impression a lot of people had then and have now.

I explained to him that my hometown was quite similar to the New Orleans region. I told him that it was about three feet above sea level, similar to areas of the New Orleans region. I grabbed a nearby aeronautical chart depicting the East Coast and showed him the water surrounding South Jersey. Using a soft lead pencil, I lightly traced the marshlands around the Township and the County. He asked about fishing and hunting. I told him that once upon a time this part of New Jersey was once one of the world's largest sturgeon fisheries, that crabbing and fishing were still viable ways of making money, and that the hunting was quite good.

I also told him that the mosquito had long been considered "The State Bird".

He looked up at me and said, "So it's just like N'Awlins as far as geographic features go.".

I said, "Yeah, except we speak English up there.".

During my time there we had plenty of rains, tropical depressions, tropical storms, and glancing blows from hurricanes. With those came plenty of floods.

1985 was a busy year for Hurricanes in the Gulf of Mexico.

Three of them directly affected New Orleans without even hitting it.

Hurricane Danny in August, 1985 was the first big storm I remember there. It was a Category 1 hurricane. It mostly flooded the lower parts of the state, but it made getting around difficult. Roadways were flooded as the pumping stations did their best to keep up.

That was good practice for Hurricane Elena later in the month. Even though the eye of the storm hit near Biloxi, MS, the continuous bands of rain brought flooding back to the region once again.

Just as the hurricane season was winding down, Hurricane Juan came a calling at the end of October.

One of the things I learned from these storms was just how widespread the rains and high winds were away from the eye of the storm.

Cut to today's update on Hurricane Irene.

It's on a path that will take it over most of the major East Coast cities and right over where we are here in South Jersey.

Or not.

Hurricanes are the most fickle of all storms.

Take this one for example:


This is the path that Hurricane Juan took prior to land fall in Oct-Nov 1985. Note the numerous tight turns.

This isn't to say that Irene is going to make a sudden hard right turn and we'll all live happily ever after. It's just a possibility.

The probability is that the storm is going to hit here or nearby.

It's also going to hit about the same time as a lunar high tide will be in progress in the Delaware River.

The Delaware River is conveniently located about 1/4 of a mile from the doorstep here.

Fortunately we're not in a flood plain. At least not yet. The house here is on relatively high ground for the area. It is also built up on a basement that rises out of the ground, adding about another foot of ground clearance. It doesn't sound like much, but every inch in a flood helps.

We've taken the steps necessary to ride out the storm and take care of ourselves for a few days in the event of any power outages.

We also have "Plan B" in case we decide the risk of staying is too great. The plan is simple. Grab Christine's parents, toss them and some weekend bags in the AirTrafficMobile, and drive west.

Where west? Hard to say. There will be a lot of people doing the same thing. I expect that anywhere west of Harrisburgh, PA will be reasonably safe.

So, depending on the events between now and this time tomorrow morning, I'll either be back here tomorrow or post from somewhere on the road.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Earthquake Survival----East Coast Style

Whew........that was a close call.

As most of you are aware, an earthquake struck the eastern half of the United States. The epicenter was in the vicinity of Mineral, Virginia. The strength estimated to be between 5.8 and 5.9 on the Richter Scale.

Let's face it, 5.8 on the Richter Scale is in no way a catastrophe. It's going to knock some stuff over, crack some mortar, and maybe flip a trailer or two.

So why was it such big news?

Because it struck in the region where there a large reporting outlets, namely Washington, D.C., Philadelphia, and New York City.

Where was I during all this commotion?

I was in the bathroom, brushing my teeth and getting ready for a shower.

To be precise, I was leaning over the sink expelling the toothpaste from my mouth.

All of a sudden, the house began to sway a little. My first thought was that I was experiencing a touch of vertigo. However, when I stood up straight the medicine cabinet mirror was moving.

I've been through enough small tremors to realize it was a very small earthquake.

Christine was up at the Library for a meeting. I shot her a quick text, returned to the bathroom for my shower, and thought nothing further of the event.

Besides, I was heading out to meet up with a friend for a couple of beers and some small talk.

It wasn't until I turned on my car radio that I realized a media feeding frenzy was in it's early stages.

Media feeding frenzies are one of my pet peeves. Sensationalism sells. In no month of the year is that more true than the month of August. Most, if not all, of the politicians are out of the nation's capital on vacation. When all the vitriol and name calling are removed from D.C., the media outlets are left with very little to actually report on.

It only took a couple of minutes to get to the tavern.

The televisions were up loud. I thought, "Aw crap. I'm going to have to listen to this all afternoon.". Sure enough, the local ABC affiliate had "BREAKING NEWS" coverage of "Earthquake 2011".

Facts were scarce in the early hours of the reports. I've seen enough "breaking news" coverage to know that when facts are scarce, the first thing the news organizations are going to do is send a cameraman and reporter out into the street. They also send along a slew of inane questions so that they can record every slack jawed local's take on the event.

In this case, the local station did not let it's loyal viewership down. They grabbed a guy in a suit and tie and asked him where he was when the earthquake hit. For Christ's sake, they just saw him walk out of an office building. "I was in my office when it hit.", I muttered to myself.

"I was in my office when it hit.", came the fellow's response.

I muttered, "Were you scared when it hit?".

"Were you afraid when the earthquake hit?", the eagle eyed reporter asked.

I turned away from the television. The ridiculous line of questions was starting to make me nauseous.

One game of pinball and a few minutes later, the street reporter had just stopped some guy on a bike.

Once again I muttered, "Where were you when the earthquake hit?".

Sure enough, that was the question.

I said out loud this time, "He was on his f%&#ing bicycle you jackass!".

Of course he was.

The station had reporters out and about gathering up news for other reports. That meant they could ask people all over the Delaware Valley the same questions over and over and over again.

It was excruciating to watch and listen to.

Especially for people like me. I'm a "fact driven" sort. I want to know what happened where.

I don't want to listen to the guy who opens up his take on the situation with the phrase, "I SAW IT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!".

"I SAW IT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!" is usually followed by a finger point at the camera, the line, "IS THAT THING ON?????????????", a goofy wide eyed smile, and a, "HI MOM!!!!".

Yet, most news organizations always seem to find that guy.

The other thing I can't stand is the guy walking behind the interview who suddenly realizes he's on camera.

Pretty soon, one of those idiots came on the screen. The coverage had changed over to the national feed. Some reporter was standing in front of an office building in Washington, D.C.. Some Arabic guy in full Arabic regalia, turban and all, was behind the reporter. He was waiving at the camera and talking excitedly on his phone. It's likely that he was talking to his turban headed friends or family.

Regardless, I sat there just hoping......no, praying that some good Samaritan would "Clothesline" they guy just on the principle of the thing.

That, my friends, would win an Emmy.

It was getting late in the afternoon and I had to pick up some stuff for dinner. Christine had another meeting to go to so I wouldn't be cooking much. I turned the radio on to the local NPR station. At least if all I was going to hear about was the earthquake, it would be sans the sensationalism.

The facts were finally starting to filter out across the nation.

The earthquake had struck in a rural part of Virginia. Damage was slight. There were no reported deaths. A couple of nuclear generating plants had gone off line like they were designed to do. Airports in the wake of the earthquake were temporarily closed as a precaution.

That's the sort of stuff I want to hear. Facts.

Now it wouldn't be America if there wasn't somebody making fun of the event.

"Best Punchline Delivered During Earthquake 2011" goes to the guy who said this:

"That was an earthquake? I thought it was (New Jersey)Governor Christie jumping into the Presidential race."

That's funny no matter where you're from.

Just a couple post earthquake thoughts.

Let's start with the reaction to the earthquake from our friends out there is Southern California. This headline pretty much says it all. While it is true that California has much more experience with earthquakes of devastating magnitudes, I'd like to see how well they'd fare in a Category 1 or 2 hurricane. While the East Coast buildings are generally inferior seismically to California buildings, the California drainage systems aren't built to handle the water volumes associated with hurricanes. More importantly, evacuating Los Angeles would prove monumental given the sheer number of people and given their inexperience in evacuations. Mark my words, one of these days a big storm is going to hit Southern California. It will not be a pretty sight.

Now then, the overreaction by the East Coast media. For God's sake media people! There's enough really scary crap going on out there without you folks trying to amp it up some more for the sake of ratings. By the time the "quake" reached Philadelphia, and New York City, the force had waned considerably. Sure, it was a rare occurrence, but for f#ck's sake use some sound judgement. Gather the facts, get on the air, and report them to the general populace without all the histrionics. Are sound judgement and common sense so rare in reporting that it has become easy to dismiss them as necessities?

Hurricane Irene is scheduled to make her appearance on the Eastern seaboard this weekend. I'm not looking forward to either the storm nor the over the top reporting.

Three things you are guaranteed to see this weekend in regards to the storm:

- A report on the fools who choose to stay in the path of the storm citing the other storms they've survived.

- Lots of pictures of fishing piers taken during the storm. Expect more than a few to collapse.

- Some clown from The Weather Channel wearing a rain slicker reporting from the landfall of Hurricane Irene.

Maybe I'll just listen to NPR all weekend instead.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Sunday FunDay - Winner, Winner Chicken Dinner

First though, let's start off with this warning from you friendly local bread man in Newark, Delaware:


You really take your chances in Delaware if you are "unauthorized to use" a bread box. I doubt anyone would steal it to use for moving clothes or the such. However, it is obvious that Delaware has strict bread delivery box laws. Even more obvious is that D'Ambrosio's bakery will see that you're prosecuted to the fullest extent.

Let the box thieves beware.

That was Thursday.

Yesterday was a big day in the kitchen here. Lots of good food requiring hours of preparation.

Of all the days for my camera's batteries to die.

Earlier this Summer I volunteered my cooking services as a prize in a "Chinese Auction". The fundraiser was held to raise money for the local public library. My donation was a "Sunday Go To Meetin' Dinner" consisting of the following:

- Two whole chickens cooked either "Southern Fried" or "Savory Roasted"

- Garlic mashed potatoes

- Giblet gravy

- "Southern Style" Green beans with ham

- Peach cobbler made with fresh South Jersey peaches

- Cast iron skillet cornbread

Early last week, the winner sent me an e-mail asking if I could have her prize ready and delivered by 5:30 pm yesterday.

I appreciated the early notice.

Yesterday I spent from 10:30 am until 5:15 pm in this kitchen, mostly on my feet. Since I was making every dish from scratch, I had to reuse every bowl, spatula, mixing spoon, and knife we have.

Everything went smoothly. That's highly unusual since there's always at least one thing where the proverbial "wheels come off". The closest thing to a disaster came when I tasted what was the base of the giblet gravy. I had simmered the giblets in some chicken stock and some pan liquid. At first taste it seemed too salty. I started to get a bit agitated when I realized that the addition of the milk/flour slurry would thin the mixture out.

Turns out I was right. The gravy came out flawless.

I delivered the meal right on schedule. The winner was a nice little old lady. She had invited some family members to join her. I brought the food pans in the house. It made me happy to see she had her table immaculately set for a Sunday family dinner. So many folks these days have abandoned the Sunday family dinner.

It made me even happier to see the smiles on everybody's faces.

As I was leaving, the nice lady tried to tip me five dollars for gas.

I thanked her but refused the money. After all, this was my donation to the cause.

I arrived home, made a nice cool vodka/bitter lemon, and sat down for a spell.

On a humorous note, after six hours and forty five minutes of cooking, Christine and I still didn't have anything ready for dinner.

We had a plan though.

I won a nice six waffle Cuisinart waffle maker Saturday night at a charity event.

There was a nice package of bacon in the fridge.

We're both big fans of having breakfast for dinner.

So that's what we did.

Sort of a reverse Sunday FunDay.

With a good deed thrown in.

Winner.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

It Takes A Hell Of A Lot Of Gull

My former employer is at it again.

It is poor decisions like this that used to drive me mad when I was separating airplanes for a living.

Up in New York City, across the Flushing Bay from LaGuardia Airport, the Port Authority of New York wanted to build a garbage transfer station.

Let's face it, "The Big Apple" generates a huge volume of refuse. So much so that they have to actually ship it out via barge for proper disposal. I've been to New York City and the surrounding boroughs. I get it.

Unfortunately, the site Port Authority had in mind was right under the final approach course to LaGuardia's Runway 31.

That also makes it directly in the path of traffic departing Runway 13.

The FAA bought off on the idea. Why, I'll never know. They claim it is outside the area where obstructions would be a problem, and therefore forbidden, for aircraft landing or taking off.

Here's an article that helps explain how that area is determined.

For those familiar, here's what the Instrument Approach Procedure looks like. NOTE: This Approach Plate is out of date. Do not use for navigational purposes!

For those unfamiliar, this is what's called a "Non Precision Approach". It has course guidance via a radio signal called a "Localizer". What it lacks is a radio signal called a "Glide Slope". A "Glide Slope" is a radio signal that gives the pilots a precise descent path to the runway, and therefore allows the plane to descend to a lower altitude on approach. On the Localizer Runway 31 approach, the landing aircraft can only descend to 640 feet.

That 640 feet will be well above the 100 foot high waste transfer station under construction on the other side of Flushing Bay.

So why am I even concerned about a 100 foot high building on the far side of Flushing Bay as it relates to operations departing Runway 13 or landing Runway 31 at LaGuardia?

Simple.

Birds.

LaGuardia already has a bird problem.

Remember USAir Flight 1549?

Captain Chesley Burnett "Sully" Sullenberger III and crew became reluctant heroes on the afternoon of January 15, 2009.

I say "reluctant" because given their druthers, they'd probably had rather completed the flight to Charlotte, NC rather than splash down in the icy cold waters of the Hudson River.

Unfortunately, due to both engines ingesting a large number of Canadian Geese, the flight to Charlotte was no longer an option.



Bird activity is a problem at a number of airports. Memphis International Airport has the second highest rate of bird strikes per 100,000 operations in the nation. There are millions of black birds that nest around the airport. Why? Because the airport authority purchased entire neighborhoods around the field to settle noise problems. They then tore down all the houses, leaving the trees as a noise barrier. My last year there the airport had an expert come in to estimate the number of birds in the now uninhabited acres of land. The number came back in the millions. Believe me, I worked a number of aircraft that had bird strike events. Most were fairly routine, but some were pretty severe.

Now the problem with birds is that the closer your airport is to water, the larger the birds are. In New Orleans, over at the New Orleans Lakefront Airport, they have a lot of sea gulls and brown pelicans around the field. I remember one morning a departing business jet went through a flock of gulls and had to abort their take off. Both engines were destroyed by ingesting the birds.

Fortunately, they didn't get airborne and had enough runway left to stop the aircraft from going into Lake Pontchartrain.

The FAA says the garbage transfer station in New York City is safe. They say it's outside their safety zone. Opponents disagree saying the FAA changed the parameters of the safety zone so as to allow the facility to be built. I won't get into that argument. The courts can decide the outcome of that fight.

My problem with the project is the fact that the building will draw sea gulls by the thousands. Port Authority says that the loading facility will be covered, as will the departing/arriving barges. They say that will keep the sea gull problem to a minimum.

I say they are wrong. Way wrong.

Sea gulls have a keen eye for food and a keener sense of smell. Don't believe me? Go to the nearest coastal body of water with an order of French Fries.



Port Authority can put three covers on the building and the barges if they desire. The sea gulls will be right there en masse.

Port Authority thinks it is safe because the FAA thinks it is safe.

This is the same FAA that's called "The Tombstone Agency".

The same FAA that thought that Sabre Tech was safe aircraft maintenance contractor.



The same FAA that certified that the wiring running through the fuel tanks of Boeing 747's was safe.



The same FAA that approved the extension of the maintenance intervals on Alaska Airlines MD-83 jack screw lubrication requirement because it was "safe".



The same FAA that thought that their oversight of airport security was safe.



Captain Sullenberger thinks the garbage transfer station is unsafe. As reported in this article:

"Sullenberger, whose crew saved all aboard goose-crippled US Airways Flight 1549, blasted the city's plans yesterday.

"It's a bad idea . . . Even an enclosed facility is going to attract birds," he said on CBS's "Early Show."
- Bill Sanderson, New York Post, 17 Aug 2011

I agree with Captain Sullenberger.

It's a bad idea.

Then again, that seems to be business as usual for FAA headquarters.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Air Traffic Mike Versus Green Beans

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Yesterday I drove out to my favorite produce stand.

I was in search of a bushel of fresh Lima beans.

Sadly, it's still just a little too early for local Lima beans.

Disappointed, I walked around to see what else looked good.

At the far end of the stand there was a big pile of Green beans.

They looked fantastic.

A bag of them would not do.


One bushel of fresh South Jersey Green beans later, I was home.

It's a dreary rainy day here this afternoon.

I looked at the bushel then looked at the sink. With hopeless optimism, I attempted to dump the entire bushel in the left side to start the rinsing process.



It was obvious I was going to need a bigger sink.

Seeing as how installing a new sink would take too much time this afternoon, I'm opting to handle these in two very large batches.

I have no idea how many freezer bags this is going to take.

Not that it really matters.

What matters is that when the cold winds of January come, Christine and I will have a nice touch of Summer in every bag.

Now if all y'all will excuse me, I've got some serious blanching and bagging to do.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

And Sometimes We Cook Pizzas.....

Last week, down at the Outer Banks, a flat bread dinner was planned.

We had top notch flat breads.

We had top notch pizza sauce.

The various toppings available would make any restaurant envious.

There was plenty of good cheese at hand.

There were also four creative minds available to take advantage of this bounty.

Unfortunately, one of those creative minds was on his second cocktail of the late afternoon.

With that in mind I proudly present my vodka fueled creation:

"Air Traffic Mike's Chili Cheese Dog Pizza"

It takes a big man to cross the cultural divide when it comes to the culinary arts.

It took a moron and two cocktails to come up with this.

First, down one vodka/Wink. For the uninformed, "Wink" is a grapefruit soda first marketed in the 1960's.

Second, make another one to take into the kitchen with you. Cooking can be dangerous, even more so with alcohol involved. However, alcohol can also dull the pain of minor burns. An ounce of preventative vodka is worth a pound of gauze later on.

But I digress.

Back to the recipe.


Spread some mustard on the prepared flat bread.


Add a layer of really good chili*.
*Thanks to my best friend for making another killer batch of his award winning chili.


Add some good quality grilled hot dog slices. These hot dogs are nitrate free and stuffed in natural casings.


Cover with shredded Cheddar/Monterrey Jack blend cheese and thinly sliced white onion.

Bake on a cookie sheet or pizza stone at 425F for six minutes.

Let cool for five minutes, slice, and serve.


Paper plate service. Nothing but the best for this pizza.

Tonight, grilled chili pepper seasoned chicken.

Tomorrow, hopefully a day of shelling, blanching, and freezing of fresh Lima beans. They are just coming into season here in South Jersey. I shelled and cooked some earlier this week. This year's crop is outstanding.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

FUMOT Meets Mass Transportation

Now you can share the true FUMOT experience with all your friends.

Sometimes southern Delaware heckles itself.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Fishin': The Outcome

Lot's of stuff to catch up on.

I'll pick up where I left off.

- ATM

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Well, we didn't just go fishing, we went on an adventure.

We arrived at the Oregon Inlet about 45 minutes prior to departure. The winds were blowing pretty good, almost out of due east. We could see plenty of whitecaps in the offing out near the sound. That really didn't concern us too much. We were planning on fishing the inside the inlet where the waters were much calmer.

There was some time to kill after check in. It seemed like a good time to park over near the boat and watch to see what the morning fishing trips were bringing in.

A larger charter boat came in with a happy looking group of four aboard. They had been fishing near where we were planning to go. They had nothing spectacular aboard, but they did have a nice catch of some smaller bluefish. Bluefish are a bit strong on the "fishy taste" scale, but provide a good fight when hooked up.

A few minutes later a "party boat" came in with a full load of passengers, but not much in the way of fish. I made the observation that everybody has a big smile on their faces when "party boats" go out, but very few upon their return.

I've always found them to be too crowded. One person hooks a fish and then all Hell breaks loose. First, everybody is going to crowd around the lucky fisherman. During that time, not one will make any effort to get their line out of the water to give the guy with a fish on a fighting chance of getting it aboard without a tangle. The final insult is that IF the guy with a fish on has to move from his spot during the process of landing the fish, some ignorant bastard is going to jump in that spot figuring that's where the rest of the fish in the ocean are schooling.

Fishing is supposed to be a relaxing hobby. It's not supposed to be 30 people with tackle running around like a flash mob.

My friend pointed out that our captain was aboard the boat we had chartered. His son went to grab our cooler from the truck, we walked over to talk to the captain.

The captain was a bit younger than us. As we approached the slip, he was in a lively conversation with the crew in the next slip. He seemed to be an affable sort.

My friend and I have been on several charters in the past. A couple of times we ran into a situation where the captain and first mate were complete jerks. That's a chance you take when you charter in the blind at times.

I'm happy to report that this was not the situation.

Our captain, Lee Johnson, skipper of the "Gouger" is a stand up guy. He greeted us warmly at the pier and made us feel right at home. He asked us what we would like to fish for today. We told him we thought an inland trip might be in order due to the winds, but wanted to hear his recommendations.

He gave us a couple options to consider. Then he mentioned that dolphin fish were being caught offshore.

"If you don't mind getting wet and beat up a bit, the dolphin are hitting pretty good out there."

We looked at each other. My best friend's son got a bit of a smile.

It was a done deal.

We loaded up on the boat and headed out.

Here's a 1:10 minute clip of the ride:



Most of the rest of the time the seas were too rough for videoing.

We caught a couple fish trolling on the way out.

That sort of made us forget about the bouncy, wet ride.

When we reached the spot the skipper wanted to take us it was, "Fish On!!!!!".

The skipper had put us on a small school of dolphin.

He handed my friend and his son a couple of lighter rods and reels.

That REALLY made it fun!

All good things must end. The dolphin eventually quit feeding, giving way to some smaller fish also hanging around the area.

We headed back in, trolling for more dolphin on the way back.

Going with the waves was a much nicer ride than going out against them and the wind.

Still, we had some pretty big swells to contend with.


Doesn't look TOO bad, does it?

Don't let the two dimensions of the photo fool you.

The prop wash that finishes up and to the left of the photo stops where it does only because that's the top of the wave coming from behind the boat. It was just slightly above the top of my six foot high head. About 25 seconds later, we passed over it as it passed us by.

I put my camera away.

Just in time, too.

One minute or so later, the fishing pole to my left nearly bent in half.

I grabbed it and started reeling in.

That's when I realized we had a larger fish than we were catching earlier.

It took a bit of effort, but I got it up to the boat where Captain Lee gaffed it.

We were all pretty pleased with that fish.

The captain trolled a few more miles for dolphin. We caught a couple more smaller ones and a couple of smallish Bonita.

Shortly after that we called it a day and headed in.


It was a much smoother ride as we approached the bridge on the way in.



Apparently, at least in the larger boats, you have your choice of color.


Largest fish of the day.


The day's catch: 13 Dolphin, 4 Atlantic Bonita, and 3 Skipjack.

Not a bad day of fishing.

The adventure was well worth it.

Oh, I brought home the fillets from the big catch.

I cooked them for Christine and myself.

They came out something like this:


(From L to R)Baked Dolphin fish, Christine's cornbread(upper right), Southern style green beans(lower right), Creole okra and tomatoes over white rice(bowl).

That was some fine eating from scratch last night.

My hat's off to Lee Johnson, skipper of the "Gouger". His charter services come with my highest recommendation. You can book him and his boat here, or call Oregon Inlet Fishing Center at 1(800)272-5199. At this time the only way to book Captain Johnson and his boat is through OIFC.

Believe me, I'll book him and "Gouger" again next time I'm down.

Thanks once again to my best friend and his son for an unforgettable day.

Lifetimes are made up of moments both great and small.

This trip was one of the great ones.

You guys are the best.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Gone Fishin'

Yesterday I treated my best friend, his sons, and myself to a hour on the biggest wave riders we could find.

It was only fair. He paid for lunch.

His youngest couldn't operate one on his own so he shared that one with his Dad. The good news is he was old enough to drive it if his Dad was on board.

His oldest son and I each had our own.

A good time was had by all.

How can a person not have a good time skipping across the water at speeds that averaged between 45 to 50 miles per hour?

The hour went by all too fast, but it rocked!

We got home late in the afternoon.

The boys walked over to the beach with a couple surf rods and some squid bait.

Around 7:00 pm Doc and I walked over to check on them.

Not a single bite, but they did get some good skim boarding time in.

Any rant I had left about the FAA furloughs was left far behind by that point in the day.

The beautiful sunset sealed it.

It's hard for me to be irate at the beach.

Today, due to a small sunburn issue, I stayed in.

Tomorrow that's not an option.

My best friend booked an afternoon fishing trip out of the Oregon Inlet. The tides look good for the trip and it will just be the four of us on a 27 foot boat. We could have opted for a "party boat" where we could fish with 30 to 40 other folks.

Too many tangled lines and rookies on those boats.

Tonight, it's "Roll Your Own" pizza night.

Wait until you see my entry.

Watch for photos tomorrow.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Thrity Years Ago Today

I was busy working my two Summer jobs.

I was making as much money as I could.

That's how my Summer's went. I was paying my own college tuition.

I was also keenly keeping up with the news. After negotiations failed, the Professional Air Traffic Controllers Organization (PATCO) called for a strike..

It was a huge gamble that would eventually fail for the union.

It would also open the door wide open for me to get hired by the FAA.

I find it ironic that 30 years later the FAA is once again in turmoil. Courtesy of partisan politics, over 4,000 FAA personnel find themselves furloughed.

Some might argue that these "non-essential" personnel are just that. One could argue that layoffs happen all the time in the vaunted "private sector". I've heard some opinions that this shows just how much fat there is in what is viewed as a much too large Federal government.

Oh, and lets not forget the 85,000 plus "private sector" jobs that are on hold along with the now unfunded construction projects.

The President, Secretary of Transportation, and FAA Administrator have all expressed their frustrations and dismay over this situation.

Most of the Republicans in the House could care less. It's August and they hightailed it out of Washington, D.C. as soon as the budget compromise was reached. The matter of having a small percentage of Federal employees furloughed is seemingly insignificant to them.

The President could get every one of them back into Washington and get this matter resolved.

He'd just have to show some leadership.

There are times when finesse is called for, times for compromise, and times someone just has to wrest control and take charge.

The President has the power to do just that.

However, it is going to be really distasteful.

How distasteful?

The Republican members of the House and Senate would simultaneously lose complete control of their bowels.

It would be one of the biggest "big balls" moves in the history of the United States.

How, you ask?

Take a lesson from the failed PATCO strike.

All the President has to do, not threaten mind you, HAS to do is issue one Executive Order.

One.

By Executive Order, shut down the National Airspace System.

Furlough the ENTIRE FAA.

Let the major airlines sit on the ground.

No air travel for vacation.

No air travel for business.

No FedEx.

What the Hell, the current lack of ticket tax collections will result in a $1.2 billion loss to the Federal tax coffers.

I say let's share the pain.

Ground everybody and make everybody lose some cash.

No exceptions.

Make the vacationing House of Representatives drive back to work. I guess the Hawaiian delegation is going to have to start out by boat.

Regardless, don't come off the shut down until the gridlock is resolved.

I've said it before and I'll say it again:

Government has to be run like a government. It is too complex to run like a business. Nobody runs a business like a household. The rules don't translate. That's precisely why the "government run like a business" paradigm is doomed to fail.

Shutting down the National Airspace System let's the President take control of the situation. The House of Representatives may not respond quickly to the President from time to time, but they respond immediately to the special interest groups that fund their campaign coffers.

The airlines would scream bloody murder. Businesses that rely on overnight shipping will start hemorrhaging cash in a hurry. Layoffs will come quickly.

Instead of the Republican lead House of Representatives holding 90,000 Federal employees and civilian jobs "hostage" over the FAA funding bill, the President would be holding everybody "hostage" until the House finishes it's work.

I'm pretty sure the gridlock would cease and desist quickly.

Thirty years ago I was working two jobs.

Today I'm retired and on vacation.

Off to the beach.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Vacation(cont'd)

Pretty much sums up the word "vacation" in one shot.

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

Air Traffic Mike, ret.