Kobe Bryant's Helicopter Crash

All of you have heard by now of the helicopter crash on Sunday, January 26th that killed basketball star, Kobe Bryant.  All of you know that it happened on a day when the weather in Los Angeles, California was very bad.  

Right now, two days after the accident, we know very little.  After an accident, the initial reports are almost always wrong.  At first the news media, in their rush to get the story out, incorrectly reported the number of people on the helicopter.  Other reports indicated that the helicopter was on fire, its engines were "sputtering" or the famous, "it was spiraling out of control" before crashing.  All of that is wrong.

Here's the sequence of events:  Kobe and some friends were headed from Santa Barbara, California to his athletic camp known as the Mamba Sports Academy in the town of Camarillo.  The weather surely was "bad" that morning, but not so bad that it warranted canceling the flight.  Airports along the way were reporting "bad-but-okay" weather...for a helicopter.  However, hysterical news reports said that the weather was "extremely poor" or some such nonsense.  It wasn't.  

What may be extremely poor weather for an airplane is not necessarily so for a helicopter.  See, we helicopters can safely and legally slow down and fly low when the cloud ceiling and forward visibility are reduced.  Airplanes cannot do this.  What is required of us helicopter pilots is that we retain forward visibility...in other words, stay "clear of clouds" as we call it, and fly at a speed that allows us to not hit anything.  It may sound absurd, but helicopters are unique aircraft with awesome capabilities.

Anyway, Kobe's pilot - who had flown this same route many times before - decided that the weather was sufficiently good to attempt the flight.  He did not need any special permission to do so; we have that freedom here in the United States.  Because of the low cloud ceilings, the pilot elected to say in the numerous valleys that make up the "L.A. Basin."  He was very experienced, and he knew the area well.  Only trouble was that by choosing this route, it meant that Burbank and Van Nuys Airports were in his way.

When he got further up the road (so to speak), the Burbank Airport was reporting a cloud ceiling of 1,100 feet and a visibility of two-and-one-half miles.  Again, not horrible weather by helicopter pilot standards.  

But because the visibility was less than three miles, this rendered the zone around the airport "IFR."  This means that pilots need an Instrument flight plan to operate in the area.  Operating VFR was allowed by exception, but pilots need to ask for what we call a "Special VFR" clearance.  This is perfectly routine and it happens all the time at airports all across the country.  However!  Air Traffic Control gives priority to aircraft on IFR flight plans.  VFR aircraft (such as Kobe's helicopter) get lower priority.  In this case, the Tower controller at Burbank told Kobe's pilot to hold outside of the area until there was a "slot" or break in the traffic sufficient to let him through.  

When traffic finally permitted, the Burbank controller cleared Kobe's helicopter into their zone.  They were instructed to fly up Interstate 5 to the east of Burbank Airport, then loop north around both Burbank and Van Nuys Airport before coming back down south to intercept Highway 101 westbound, which would lead them right to Camarillo.  That was the plan, anyway.

After Kobe's helicopter cleared out of the Van Nuys Airport zone, the pilot did pick up Highway 101 and began following it.  However, something happened.  Suddenly, the helicopter began a left turn.  Perhaps the pilot was attempting a course reversal to go back to Van Nuys.  Whatever the case, witnesses on the ground said that the helicopter flew over them, heard but not seen because he was in the clouds above.  Soon afterward, they heard the impact on a nearby hill.

Right now, it appears that Kobe's pilot inadvertently flew into either a cloud or a fog bank, violating the imperative to not do that.  If I had to make an educated guess, it would be that in his left-turn attempt to reverse course and head back to Van Nuys, the pilot probably did not realize that he was turning right into a mountain that was higher than the altitude at which he was flying.  He wouldn't be the first pilot to make a mistake like that.  We all saw the tragic results of this latest one.

That's basically all we know right now.  There are a hundred questions that come up.  Almost none of them are answerable.  The NTSB is, obviously, on the case of this very high-profile accident.  Hopefully they'll be able to shed some light on what went wrong and how it happened.  When more information comes out, I'll provide it here.

Nobody Gets Out Of Here Alive

Everything dies, right?  Intellectually, we know this.  Every human, every pet, every tree, every flower, every laptop, every Harley...everything eventually dies. But as a culture, we don't seem to deal with death very well, especially when that death comes "unexpectedly."

And that's the trouble. We think we're allotted a certain minimum amount of time here on earth...what, 90 years or so? 100? And when someone dies prior to that age, it seems like a real tragedy. The more famous the person, the greater the tragedy. The sense of loss is tremendous, even if we didn't actually know him or her.

Of course, it's even worse when it's a close relative, like a mother or a father.  Or a child. They're here...and suddenly they're gone, leaving a big empty hole in your world. How does one deal with that pain?  Different people do it differently, of course.  I have some friends who can tell you the exact day and date of their mother's passing, even though it happened decades ago.  

By comparison, my own mom passed away in September of 2018.  She was in her 90s; she had a rich, full life.  I cannot tell you the exact date she died, nor will I mark the day and "celebrate" it in the future.  I mean no disrespect.  She was a wonderful woman for the time she had on this planet.  I know I'll see her again.  (She'll probably yell at me then -again! - for not going to college.)

Neil Peart, the drummer for the rock band Rush died recently. There was worldwide mourning.  Peart was considered "one of the best" drummers, and the band's music touched many peoples' lives.  More relevant to me, Terry Jones of Monty Python's Flying Circus died just last week too.  As a teenager in the early 1970s, I loved the silly humor of "Python." The show had a huge influence on my life as an adult. It taught me to not take things so seriously.

I came to grips with death a long time ago. As a pilot, I've seen plenty of it. Aviation acquaintances and some close friends have perished in aircraft accidents. It sounds cold to say, but you get used to it. The dead person - pilot, musician, comedian, relative...or Harley...is in that "better place" we dream about.  We stay here and to carry on without them.  Or try to.  It's not always easy.

Being inevitable...death, that is, we may read today about the passing of yet another famous person.  The media likes to play these things up.  But you can't let death "rock your world." You pay your respects and you move on.  We have no other choice.

LIAR!!

At a recent campaign stop in Iowa, presidential candidate Senator Elizabeth Warren was asked if dishonesty should be a disqualifying trait in a presidential candidate? Mrs. Warren replied, ”How could the American people want someone who lies to them?” Which…really doesn’t, you know, answer the question, does it? 

But Elizabeth Warren is good at that: Not answering questions. Actually, all politicians are good at it, especially those who rise to the national level. You never want to give a direct, definitive answer today in case you need to give a different answer to a different crowd tomorrow.

Speaking of answers, the one to Senator Warren’s rhetorical question is simple: Americans don’t care. We know that all politicians lie – WE KNOW IT! We accept it as a fact. Whether one politician lies more than another is pretty meaningless. It’s not a matter of degree, and we don’t judge politicians on some sliding scale of, ”Well…my guy doesn’t lie to us as often as your guy, so my guy is okay.”

No, it doesn’t work like that, not at all. The fact that your guy lies less than my guy is irrelevant. It’s like saying, "Well, my unmarried daughter is less pregnant than your unmarried pregnant daughter, so my daughter is more virtuous than yours."  Wrong!  It doesn’t matter that mine is about ready to pop while yours just got knocked-up last week.  They're both equally pregnant, see?

So how could the American people want someone who lies to them? Easy! We don’t have a choice, now do we, Pocahontas? Okay, maybe that’s unfair…because the DNA testing did reveal that Warren was 0.000000001% “something” other than white. Okay Senator, then you want to go over again how you got FIRED from a seasonal job for being pregnant?  See, there’s this other story you told about how you simply decided not to return to that job. 

I rest my case.

Senator Warren, next time someone asks you a stupid question like, "Should dishonesty disqualify someone from being President?" just tell them the truth - that all politicians lie as a matter of course.  Ohhhhhh, that's right, I forgot, you're a politician too!  There's no way you could answer that question honestly.

Things We Wish We Had (and had not) Said

We all have those things we wished we hadn't said, right?  And of course, we always remember things we *could* have said, usually well after the opportunity to say them has passed.  "Jerkstore!" for example.  (You'd have to have watched Seinfeld to get that reference.)  It's usually one or the other. 

So a guy gets in my Uber at the hilariously-named Pensacola "International" Airport the other morning.  Dead ringer for Cory Booker.  I mean, spittin' image.  But I did not mention this fact.  You do not tell a black guy he looks like some famous other black guy.  That's like saying all Asians look alike.  Even though he did and they do. 

I start the trip and see that we're going to the headquarters of Cox Cable, which is up in the Ellyson Industrial Park which used to be Ellyson Field, a Navy flight training base where my dad learned to fly helicopters in 1952.  I always like going up to Ellyson.  Some of the old hangars are still there, and I can sort of get a sense of what my dad saw when he was there back before I was born. 

"My" Cory Booker is obviously some mid-level manager for Cox from out of town.  He's only in Pensacola for the day, for a meeting.  He sits back, sighs and mentions that his "friends" at Cox were supposed to pick him up at the airport but they didn't show so he had to take an Uber.  And what I almost...and I really mean...*ALMOST*….said was, "Some friends, those guys....those suckas...those Cox suckas…"  But I bit my tongue and did not make that joke.  It was, for those that know me, a great (and unusual) display of self-control.

Optimists and Pessimists

Well, despite the endless fretting, hand-wringing and worrying by some people, North Korea's Kim Jong-Un did not send us a nice present, Christmas or otherwise, as he promised.  No beautiful vase, no nuclear-tipped missile.  Nothing. War of words - that's the only kind of war Kim Jong-Un can wage. The U.S. killed Iran's General Qassem Soleimani, whom we have been told was one of the top terrorists in the world. Prior presidents have considered "taking him out" but did not. President Trump did. This caused one of my liberal friends to exclaim, "It's like if Iran killed Mike Pence!"  Uhhhh, no it wasn't, not even remotely.  Mike Pence has never facilitated the murder of any other person or group (that we know of!).  But hey, everybody's got their own reality, even me. The planet was not launched into WWIII over this Iran thing, again, despite what many feared and predicted.  Iran did shoot down a Ukrainian airliner - for what reason (ineptness?  deliberately?) we do not know.  Either way, it's a huge embarrassment for Iran.  Not that the gentle Canadians would ever do anything about it other than issue a strongly-worded letter to Iran.  Oh yeah, that'll show 'em. And so we are back where we were, more or less...  Except, for better or for worse, the world now understands that we have a legit "crazy person" in charge of the U.S. who's not afraid to take decisive, controversial action - unlike some former presidents who relied more on diplomacy and appeasement. Speaking of which... Thanks to President Obama, Iran got back all the money the U.S. has owed them since 1979...with interest! (See THIS article for an explanation.) Now, thanks to President Trump, Iran knows that if one more dime of it gets spent to kill Americans, there will be hell to pay. I am dismayed by the level of negativity we see so often all around us.  The mainstream media continually bombards us with ONLY views about the bad things that are going to happen because of this or that.  They assume that the result of everything will be bad, and then they bring on "experts" to reinforce that viewpoint.  The media's everything is bad! negative attitude filters down and infects their viewers, turning them into confirmed, registered pessimists.  That's a horrible, dangerous mindset.  I hate to bring this up, but my faith tells me that things can get better.  This gives me hope that they will be.  As I've always said: Without faith, hope is just wishful thinking.  And if you don't have faith or hope, you're living in a dark, dark place.  I prefer to look on the bright side...to be an optimist.

God's Plan

I was going to write about politics or some other useless topic, but when I sat down at the computer, I just couldn't work up the energy to take on any insignificant subject.  I mean, it all seems like just so much bullshit.  I've been feeling kind of "blah" lately.  The rediculous circus we call our government is getting to me.  Plus, it's been too cold and the days are too short for any meaningful motorcycle riding, and I obviously haven't been doing any flying.  Better days are coming, I know that.  And I can't wait.

I walked out of my house to go to work the other morning...okay, it was 11:59 but technically still "morning"…  The temperature (mid-60's) was very pleasant, the sky was bright blue, birds were chirping and I could hear flutes playing - you know, just a perfect day!  A day that made me glad I live in Florida and not Wisconsin.  And I thought to myself, "Isn't the world supposed to be ending right about now?"  But it did not - the world didn't end yesterday, and it probably won't end today.

I drove around in my little Uber, taking a variety of passengers here and there.  All of them were interesting to talk to.  I treasure those oh-so-brief interactions.  At the end of my "shift" (meaning a little after two p.m. when I decided to quit for the day), I realized that God has put me in the perfect job.  God, you say?  Yep, God, I say.

Those of us who believe in a Creator understand that everything happens because of God's plan.  And obviously, His plan for me was to be right here, right now, dispensing wisdom like Joe the Bartender, except without the alcohol and with better hours. But it's not just the (questionable) wisdom I dispense; I also benefit and grow from listening to the experiences of my passengers.

...Like the little old lady I picked up at a doctor's office yesterday who just celebrated her 84th birthday and is still going strong.  She told me she had six kids - five daughters and one son (coincidentally named Robert).  She has already buried two of her daughters, of which she was incredibly sad.  But her spirit was indomitable, as they say.  She loved her life, and was very happy.  And she gave all the credit for that to God.

I know that not everybody believes in God.  Skeptics argue: If God is responsible for all of the good things in my life, why do some many bad things happen?  

Fair question...and one I cannot answer.  But look, "bad things" happen to all of us, me included.  My life is not perfect - far from it!  But I do not let the bad things overwhelm me.  I keep them in perspective and push ahead in faith - the faith that God wants the best for me...and will provide it...if I just keep trusting His promises to us.  Scoff if you like.

I have had many "good breaks" in my life - many more than I can count.  You can call those coincidences or luck-of-the-draw or whatever.  I prefer to call them good fortune.  I know that they were gifts from God.  You might say, "Speaking of fortune, then why aren't you as rich as  Donald Trump?"  Well that's because I've never wanted to be.  I'm sure that if I were meant (destined?) to be that rich and powerful, then God would've put that desire...and drive...and capability into me.  But He did not.  I'm cool with that.  

"You can't always get what you want," sang the Rolling Stones way back in 1969.  
But if you try sometimes, you just might find
You just might find!
You get what you need  

Maybe not a parable of biblical profundity, but good enough.  You can get what you need.  But it won't come automatically.  You do have to try.  Have faith that God wants what's best for you.  Be thankful, be humble.  Stay positive - keep a "good spirit."  Don't let the bad stuff get you down.

My little old lady passenger said that she was tired.  She'd been up and about, doing stuff all morning (plus the doctor's appointment), and hadn't gotten much sleep the night before.  She'd been up late, looking for her social security card, which she simply could not find.  She needed to produce the original hard copy for something today.  Finally, she said a little prayer, and "God" told her exactly where to look.  It was there.  Maybe something just jogged her memory and she remembered where it was?  Who knows.  "I know people don't believe me when I tell them that God speaks to me," she said, "but He does."  

Who am I to argue?

Flirting With Alcoholism

My father was a bad alcoholic.  It pains me to admit that, and my brothers and sisters would probably prefer that I did not mention it, but the truth is the truth: Throughout most of my formative years, dad’s drinking was a problem.  He did reform, somewhat, in later years, but he never really did stop drinking entirely.

We children of alcoholics all have the gene that makes us susceptible to the “disease” as people like to call it although I’m not sure I agree.  One can always choose to not drink in the first place.  Trouble is, few of us make that choice.  

Now, I’ll admit that I like to drink.  I don’t drink because I like the taste of beer (or rum!).  I like the way it makes me feel.  If it wasn’t for the bad hangovers I get, I’d drink all the time!  In fact, I could see myself becoming a major alky.  

I’ve never kept alcohol in the house.  No beer in the fridge, no bottles of Jack in the cupboard.  It’s my little way of keeping myself from becoming an alcoholic.  I don’t ever want to be that guy who drinks at home by himself.  If I have guests over, I’ll go out and buy a bottle of nice wine.  Other than that, I don’t drink at home.

Here’s why:  For supper tonight, I cooked up a dish that I’ve known about and liked for a long time.  It’s a complicated recipe, including scallops, cilantro, ginger root, fresh garlic, snow peas, bell peppers, corn starch…oh, and a cup of white wine.  Ingredients of which I have exactly zero.  So out I go…not to Walmart (which never in a million years would have fresh cilantro), but to Publix, the higher-end grocery store where the rich snobs shop.  God, I hate that place.  Nevertheless, they had everything I needed, including a nice bottle of white.  $50.00 later, I'm walking out to the car thinking, "Why didn't we just go out to a nice restaurant?"

The dish came out fine – if a little bland – just as I remembered it.  Since the bottle of wine was already opened, I decided to have a glass with my meal.  And then another.  And soon the bottle was empty and I was back to my “no alcohol in the house” promise.  And right now, as I write this, I am feeing verrrrry good!  

I have gone through periods of fairly heavy drinking in my life.  Happily and thankfully, those days are over.  I’m not one of those annoying reformed-alcoholic teatotalers who claims to never drink – oh no!  If I go out with friends, I can (and will!) still merrily drink them under the table.  I just don’t do that very often anymore.  My goal is to never have another hangover as long as I live.  So far, so good…although we’ll have to see how I feel tomorrow morning.  Putting an open bottle of wine in front of me is a bad, bad thing.