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Francis Meyrick

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Everything posted by Francis Meyrick

  1. Possible? Possible? Well, Heck, yeah. I'm a low-life helicopter jockey. And living the (low) Life. I posted in this column before, up-a-bit, December 25, 2013. I'm the guy with the problematic alternative uniform. (The hat, brother, the hat). I spent ten years flying in the GOM, and now Aero-Medical driver in the great State of Texas. I have zero regrets, and that includes the poverty, the worry, and the frustration. And wondering which bridge in London I was going to sleep under. I always wanted to fly... and, guess what, still flying. I've said it before, there's thousands of little blighter helicopter rickshaw pullers around. Millions of 'em. It takes persistence. Courage. Follow the dream. A fall back source of income. Drive a truck. Teach English to funny little people. (hell, with my accent, my buddies say I still need to learn English) (American) (here's a scribble about...that ) Serve in a bar. Clean sewers. Shuffle bits of paper from one side of the desk to the other. Answer the phone. Be nice and polite to ignorant customers who deserved a particularly swift kick in the vitals... I've done all those things. And more. But always wanted to fly. Still do. Mightily. If I had a dollar for every nay-sayer, prophet of doom, depressed, alcoholic, I'm-giving-up and I'm-never-going-to-play again, funereal type undertaker, I'd be in beer for a life time. Many an interviewer will like your military resume. It implies grit, discipline, 'cos the military don't put up with too much... too much... flower power? Excuses? Union types? I believe there is a certain type of individual, with a certain messed up genome, limited IQ, given to dreams and musings, who will NEVER be happy, unless.... he can sniff in those Jet A fumes in the morning, pull pitch, and feel those blades ah-slappin' time. Rock on, dreamer!
  2. I love company. I also love 'alone'. I must be very, very lucky. Over the Waves, Alone
  3. Okay, so if I'm a fateeeee, body-mass-challenged, transvestite, flat-earth-believing, Islamist Jihad propounding, disabled blackeeeee native Indianeeeeee unspecified gender neutral veteran, no worries, I can fly passengers, or I'll SUE the crap out of you, and appeal to the DOJ and Al "gimme another dollar" Sharpton, will come running, media in kow tow, but if I'm white and over 60.... tisk, tisk... I'm a degenerating fruitcake...? Sounds 'bout right. PS: What do I do to collect some "warning points" ? I don't have any, and it's not fair. I feel discriminated against. I'm just sayin'....
  4. Knowledge... Um. Define? Must know? Nice to -know? Ought to know? Fail check ride because you didn't know but really it ain't gonna hurt you? Or IS IT gonna hurt you, not because you forgot a trivia, but because you're getting lazy? Sloppy? Over confident? Pride comes before the fall, and even if you just slither-GRAB and HOLD ON to that rocky cliff edge... (Phew!)... you find yourself flying away, and thinking mature, professional Aviator thoughts. Like: "MAMA....!!": "I AIN'T EVER GONNA DO THAT AGAIN....!!" I have a word file, hidden away in a dark and dusty corner, and I have a fairly short, but searing list of "Oopses...!!" enumerated there. Big "Oopses". Once in a while, I'll visit with that list. Kind of reflect on it. Ponder "stupid" kind of thing. I TRY not to add to it. That's MY list. I know it's there. Some of the haughty "shouters" I have met, the exalted ones, the Sky Judges, the Immaculate Ones.... I think they forgot their list. Or, more likely, they erased that file. Never happened. With that file 'delete' process, they also erased much of their... humanity. I don't wanna be like that. Does that make sense? Fly softly.
  5. Coming up to 600 hrs so far this year. wrapping up 10 1/2 years in the Gulf of Mexico and Angola, and averaged 500-550 a year. But going EMS next, so that will plummet. More time, mebbe, to scribble and finally finish that second novel. Burn out my battered laptop. I found up to 5-6 hours a day regularly, that I thoroughly enjoyed. Start pushing me to do 7 or 7.5 hours a day, every day, maybe 7 hours... 57 minutes... and I somehow start feeling... grumpy. Not as fresh. Just me. 2500 in 2 years...? Holy buttocks...!?
  6. Um. Not quite rotary, but there I was, twenty five years or so ago, flying along in an old Starduster biplane. Open cockpit. Over some mountains, unfamiliar area. One third tank of gas. With a passenger. Trying to fold chart. Trying... trying.... WHOOSH...!! And now my passenger in the front cockpit is leaning around, laughing his a@@ off. As I said: "Go on, laugh! Just so you know, that was my ONLY chart! Now WHERE THE HELL ARE WE...??"
  7. What's a "chart"? Lemme think this one through now... consider the city sized Mammoth airplane of the future... you can place 77 Triple 7's nose to tail in the hold... and consider the professional air crew of the future (One Man and a Dog) (The Man is there to feed the Dawg, and the Dawg is there to BITE the man if he even DARES touch anything...)... the chart will be used for... what? Ah! Find the way to the bathroom, right...?
  8. @ Piggy you're not all tee'd off again, are you...?? Hummmm.......
  9. @ avbug what on earth did the local writers do to deserve that...?
  10. Yesssss...... SUCCESS....!!!!!! Another one driven crazy++++ Ho-hummmmmmmm......... PS: not quite poetry, but.... "Sensual Overload - The Snowstorm"
  11. That's awesome. I don't quite know what it means, but I'm wholly awed. Can I send you my boss's email address? Maybe you could explain it all to him. I don't think HE has recognized any "well recognized skill set" where I'm concerned. In ANY arena of human endeavor. In fact, he is on record poking fun at "Moggy's Wars and Pieces". Actually, my "TWO-FINGERED Wars & Pieces".... Now, your phrase "Pilotage-Poetry", which shows a brilliantly creative labeling talent, reminded me of the first and last posh wine tasting event my wife dragged me to. I was supposed to savor the "bucket" (except they spell it different, b-o-u-q-u-e-t) and roll it around my palate, before swallowing. And it was hardly a bucket. Just the bottom of this expensive looking glass. And everybody was oohing and aahing and saying how nice it was. Of course, trying to be polite, (and please wifey), I tried not to think of a decent pint of Guinness, and I said it was nice. Well, quick as a flash, here's this dusty old bottle being pushed at me, with the price tag from bloody hell. "Oh, argh...", I said. (dammit) "Errr.... have you anything cheaper?", I asked. (my wife glared). (everybody raised their eyebrows) The guy proffering the expensive bottle asks: "What range did you have in mind, Sir?" Me, (without thinking) (situation normal) "Well, how about some Vin Ordinaire? Like, basic plonk?" And my wife NEVER forgave me. She said she was MORTIFIED. Anyway, ergo, when I contemplate your truly fine phrase "Pilotage-poetry", I am reminded of trying not to swallow this super expensive wine, that I knew I probably couldn't afford anyway. The same base emotion unfortunately grips me when I try and swill "Pilotage-poetry" around my cavities. Might I suggest more basic plonk? How 'bout: "Pie-lot doggerel"..? It has a more honest, working class, irreverent appeal? yes? No? No? (Okay, back to my kennel...)
  12. Nice ring to it. That's kind of clever. Aerial blogger? Aerial Mogger? Okay, I don't mind being an aerial litt....litter.... littering.... litterarian. That's it. New genus of homo artisticus: "homo aerial litterarian" Outstanding. "Homo aerius litterarius" A note of caution how-ever, respectfully+++ "Cowboy".... (uh-huh...) "singing"..... ( ) Are you SURE....??? Mogster (aerial litterarian)
  13. switching gears for a second...(crunch!...).... I just landed back from making the skies unsafe in a spare machine, 'cos maintenance said mine was broke. Fished out the 4 blade tie-down ropes (not a single blade), and I came across one of those things I just do not understand. No Comprehendo. Verstehe nicht. Whatdaf@#K!! Now, I'll admit, there are a great many important things I do not understand (e.g.women), but this is not the place. We're talking single blades here. Bobbleheads. Some previous pilot, far, far brighter than I, (doesn't take much) had neatly and painstakingly disabled all four red warning flags (what normally flutter gaily in the breeze, helping simple minds like me, basically saying "Yoo-hoo! MISTER PIE-LOT!!! YOUR BLADE IS TIED DOWN...!!", by the following method: "tying the tie-down rope in a furious knot along the bottom (end) of the red flag/ribbon, thus preventing it from fluttering." (the red flag/pennant is thus stretched tight along the rope) Ever seen that? I see it a LOT. Now, WHY, pray, would you DO that? Why DIS-ABLE a warning system? What has that red flag ever done to so diabolically tick you off? I just don't get it. (now, now, ladies, that's NOT what I meant). I just don't understand why you would do that. So here I am, busting nails and fingers (and catching up on all my old Chinese cusswords) trying to untie those knots some Einstein has tied with all his strength in the rope, to prevent that damn flag fluttering. I like it to flutter. I'll take ALL the help I can get. I'm not proud. I'll buy any wise soul a beer who can explain that to me, in words, preferably, of two syllables or less...
  14. Nah. Then I'd have to take stuff serious, and that would spoil the fun, and would fly contrary to my base (non-violent) Arachnid, sorry, ANARCHIST, anti-authoritarian tendencies. Anyway, who would pay money to listen to me? No chance. Now, if I offered to take money in exchange for me SHUTTING UP, now THERE.... I could make some dosh! (watch 'em second that...)
  15. Well, here's a point. If we took one blade off an R-22 or a 206, and just flew with t'other, (making it a single blade) we might reduce useful load, and have to put up with an interesting one-per, but think of the money we'd save on blade polish ..? Just sayin'....?
  16. Hummm... 2 questions.... 1) I notice I have the same effect in a Walmart check out queue. I join. The queue STOPS. Was it something I said??? My alternate uniform shown above? 2) How come when you mention "DEATH" in the title of a forum post, you get EIGHTEEN THOUSAND VIEWS...?? Ok, ok. Stupid question...
  17. I see Rotorcraft Leasing insisting their pilots tie the FRONT blades down on their 206's. One way to do it. My personal preference is to only start single blade machines with blades nine o'clock and three o'clock...
  18. @ cburg that's a beautiful poem. Couldn't sleep too well, so after reading your poem, I found myself scribbling, the way I doodle. Slea Head is a wild, rocky cliff off the South West coast of Ireland. (see 'The Little Bird off Slea Head') This was my creaky effort this morning... Slea Head Dreams Backing far out into space Gazing down upon this place What farewell thoughts ply your mind As you contemplate Mankind? Did you wander soft and true Around our fragile white-and-blue? Or is there hardness in your eyes The embers from a thousand lies? I know a lonely, rocky coast That is where you loved the most That is where you longed to fly Across the ever changing sky.
  19. that resonates with me. Especially: Realize you live in a privileged bubble. I have learned that, slowly. Maybe.
  20. Ain't that the truth. If you had to write down the Golden Rules for EMS pilots, "watch 'em bloody wires" would be right up there alongside "beware inadvertent IMC" and "beware inadvertent slow descent at night over black". Leaving out the nurse wise-cracks (we'll poke fun later in that department, maybe), what else jumps instantly to your mind? Oops, if the O.P. doesn't mind me, that is. Somewhere, I got a scribble about frightening myself with wires. True story. 100%. Not even my infamous "99%". Lemme see if I can dig it out, and pollute the polite forum. Okay, found it, and just posted it, for what it's worth. (probably not-a-lot). Here's the link. Just sent shivers down my spine remembering that day. "Of Helicopters and Humans (35) - Do you see any wires?"
  21. Seem to be plenty of vacancies in Texas for PHI EMS. There is ONE less now, 'cos I humbly applied for one of them. got it, waiting for class date. After 10 years 4 months flying for them offshore (Gulf and Angola), seemed a nice change of pace. And right beside an area in Texas where I have a house rental business going. Also scenic, lakes, boating, motorcycling, etc. Reasons for hop-skipping across: +++Location, location +++ I was surprised (when i did the research) that there was a "Geographic differential pay" for the location, which coughs up another $220 or so per bi-weekly pay check. +++plenty of work-over. That's dead in the Gulf for 407 turkeys. This year has been terrible. $26,000 last year in w/o and only $3,000 so far this year. +++ Change of pace +++ flew EMS before for another operator, and hated it. Nurse politics, no support, treated like.... dirt. Heard varying, but a lot of good stories about the way my employer does the business. Let's give it 100 %, no 110%, and see if this can work. +++ nice to get back into NVG's. Flew them before in LE. +++. and off-road landings, as indicated above by others, has its satisfaction, and same for being single pilot PIC. The two crew never satisfied me. Ask ANY two crew captain "If the money was the same, which would you choose? A 407 or a S76 / S92?" And the ones I have asked, so far, without exception, have given me that funny look reserved for people who ask stupid questions, or crawl out of damp corners. All (so far) have said they would unhesitatingly choose the 407, for fun. Anyway, wish me luck. Back to being the junior kid on the (new) block. Polish up my P's and Q's. (you can do it, Moriarty, you can do it...) (Just watch those nurse jokes...)
  22. "Are you a Bobble Head?" It's a serious question - Are You? If you fly helicopters for a living, you ought to be. Believe me. I am. If you don't remember Bobble Heads, they were all the rage in the seventies'. Bobble Head Dogs, for some reason, were really popular. You had to have one in every car, or else your kids thought you were a total embarrassment to them. It's called being "square", and I guess parents were supposed to be round. So you would dutifully park one in the rear window. And there the Bobble Head dog, lying peacefully, would Bobble away, body at rest, head bobbling up and down. The kids would love it, for at least half a day, and then the Bobble head dog would just be left to Bobble away. Recently, an enterprising firm in California brought back the rage, with a Bobble Head doll that looked just like a certain prominent fund raiser. On the base of the Bobble head was inscribed a question: Am I a very silly person? And, you guessed, yes!-(bobble)-yes!-(bobble)-yes! Boyed by their success, this enterprising Free Enterprise company brought out another one that looked just like a certain former Cheerleader, and a person famous uttering the words "I mis-spoke". Spitting image. On the base of the Cheerleader-cum-Miss-Speaker, the inscription read: Do I have a frickin' CLUE? And, you guessed it, NO!-(bobble)-NO!-(bobble)-NO! These two products were wildly popular with the Public, but some very important lady in the Government called Lois wasn't amused, and she sent some emails, which she has since lost. The result was that the Tax Dogs were sent to bite the manufacturer very hard on the shins. It's not called "biting" actually, it's called "auditing", but it still involves lots of teeth, and snarling. And whimpering. These dogs "audited" the manufacturer, and then stuck them for a truly Bobble-heading Tax assessment. And that was the end of the Bobble Heads. Which was a pity really, because now they are collector's items, and nobody is going to leave them in the hot rear window of an automobile. Anyway, Moggy you moron, you may ask, and what has that got to do with helicopters? Everything! Of course! Don't you see? No…! You see, a lot of Helicopter Pilots are Bobble Heads. Especially the older ones, like me. Just watch them, at certain times. Like starting up. As opposed to other helicopter pilots, mostly the newer ones, who don't bobble much at all. Here, let me explain the background to this unique rotary bobble head phenomenon. Here is the link...
  23. I've taught guys to fly hairplanes and heli-whoppers who had not, or barely, finished high school. They made excellent pilots. Needed extra help with exams sometimes, but they did fine. And some went on to become commercial jockeys. Some of the best pilots? Former truck drivers. Now, does a college degree benefit a pilot? Yes. Main reason? Because the world is full of academic morons and intellectual twits. They tend to sit haughtily and supremely on interview panels, and THEY are impressed with college degrees. My college background of Mathematics, Economics, History, German & French literature, never helped me squat avoiding the wires, or flying that perfect vertical roll. I'm all for the small man, no degrees, no airs and graces, whose eyes light up when somebody mentions going flying. Just me.
  24. Ye heathens, all o' ye. You don't understand the culture. The gentleman might FLOAT out of the bar, but that's only because he has soared amongst the stars. T'is the land of saints and scholars. And the finest blarney spoken. Fluently. Aye.
  25. @ aeroscuttle & co I think that was meant as withering sarcasm. The Master was heaping it upon us. That's how we end up being untouchable.. I feel truly withered/untouchable. Lower caste. I hope we all do. hummmm.......
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