Archive for May, 2004

Finally, after much consternation and many hours of futzing, I present: The New Blog-Thing. Why?

There’s several reasons… First, I was unsatisfied with LiveJournal. It’s a great little place to store your journal for free with no ads. It, as is so typical of things open-source, is rather functional but pathetically inept in the user-interface and pretty-looking departments. As you can see, even this default layout is much, much prettier than LiveJournal. It doesn’t look like I want it to yet– after all I must make it all very, very black so that various readers can be frustrated in their own various ways which are not well understood by me. To me, white on black is a much more natural state for things, but I’ve gotten a few complaints. We’ll see. Maybe I’ll just find something blue. The comment system on LiveJournal left much to be desired. This comment system should prove to be far better. And little things, like everytime Joanna posts, since all other usernames were taken, she’s “JonahB52” which might not bother you, but bothers me.

There’s also the reason that I’ve got this weird geeky file-control-proximity thing. I want the files in my apartment. Nevermind that my servers are unreliable and on a crappy cable connection–they’re mine.

And that’s the downside. I fear that this may be a bit slow. Computer nonsense to follow, non-geeks can skip to the next paragraph. The New Blog-Thing is powered by an open source project called WordPress which is running on a Debian Linux Pentium Pro 200mhz server. (oldie but goodie) I’m a little worried it might be something more of a security risk on here, but then I remember that the rest of JoannandBerck.us is running on a very, very old installation of OpenBSD… Which means that while it WAS the most secure OS in the world, it’s now probably one of the less secure. Why is it so old? Because I don’t really KNOW OpenBSD and updating it at this point requires massive surgery and much time. (The rest of the site is on an ancient AMD K6 200mhz system, but fortunately it doesn’t do much.) I’ll get around to it someday, but the worst that can happen is that someone trashes it completely and I have a good reason to reinstall a secure system. There’s more to lose on the Debian system, and while it’s updated every couple of days, it is running a web server. Any geeks who’d like to poke and prod for weaknesses in this server– please have at it. It needs some work, both in cleaning up the performance and security. But it’s not all that bad. After all, I could be running it on a Windows server or something.

So, if you happen to notice that the New Blog-Thing is also Horrifically Slow, let me know. If it’s really all that bad, I may just have to leave things with LiveJournal. But, those of you who I’ve querried about the move JoannaandBerck.us have said it’s okay, so I think this shoudl be to. Even though it’s prettier, it’s still fairly light-weight. Even though I’m going to add graphics, eventually.

So here it is. Mess with it. Leave comments. I’m going to see if I can’t import all the LiveJournal entries, and if it’s all golden, just switch over to… The New Blog-Thing.

P.S. — I know this font’s spacing and such might not be the easiest to read from your special window to the internet. Do let me know what you think in general though. I’ll be trying to change things to something with serifs.

After it seemed like it would never happen, I’ve finally soloed.

I got up ridiculously early this morning after not sleeping terribly well and checked the weather. 2.5 miles visibility, but I knew it would clear up soon. Winds were 060 at 4 knots. Sure enough after showering and driving to the airport it was better than 5 miles visibility. It seemed like the entire Airman fleet of airplanes was leaving all at once, at 8am.

D. endorsed my certificate and logbook, and after I preflighted the plane, we both took off for closed pattern work just like any other day. I knew that he was going to be getting out of the plane and I was going to take off and land three times without him in the plane, but I didn’t really think about it much.

The first thing on my mind was the fact that the wind was more or less easterly, by now at 9 knots. Of late, this is a very rare occurrence indeed, and I’ve only flown the pattern for runway 030 a couple of times before. I’m used to flying right-hand patterns, but 030 is left-handed. It’s not that big a deal as left-hand traffic is actually a bit easier since you’re on that side of the plane. Still, everything in the world (or at least, in Oklahoma) is set up on a north-south-east-west grid so it’s much easier to fly the pattern for runway 17 or 35, since you can just roll out on a heading parallel with all the roads.

This turned out not to be much of a big deal, and I soon forgot about it after the first turn. I botched the first landing pretty badly, applying wind correction for wind in my mind more than wind over the runway. The second one was a touch better, though not by much. My approaches all seemed to be fast, and I couldn’t seem to get in tune with everything. After a few more, with D. mostly scolding rather than helping, they got a bit better. Finally, D. said, “Okay, make this one a full stop.”

I briefly worried that maybe my landings were so bad I wasn’t going to solo after all, but he said that they were all safe enough, and emphasized that I know how to go around. After landing, he had me taxi over the to the control tower and drop him off. As he got out of the plane, It started to hit me. Me, alone, and the responsibility for a whole plane. I worked very hard not to think about all the things I could do wrong, and just concentrated on my checklists. I did another run-up (rather superfluous, but apparently part of your first solo), and called tower to request taxi for a closed pattern departure. After I got to the hold short line, I stopped, ran through my before takeoff checklist, called tower, flipped on my landing lights and transponder. “Niner four alpha victor, cleared for takeoff, runway two one. Report midfield each touch and go.” “Cleared for takeoff, niner four alpha victor,” I said. I added some throttle, pointed the plane down the runway (which looks way too short from the north end because of the-way it curves. I noticed a nose wheel skid mark from someone who had apparently taxied onto the runway with a bit much speed. Rather than dawdle, I took assurance in having completed the checklist, and applied full throttle before I could get really scared. In what seemed like no time at all, I was rotating, climbing, and trying to maintain runway centerline. After awhile I turned left, called tower after a few moments. “Westheimer Tower, Cessna four alpha victor is midfield, touch and go.” “Cessna four alpha victor, you’re number two following a Cherokee turning final, cleared touch and go runway two one.” My brain almost tried to get upset, but barely managed to get out an “ack!” before I replied. “looking for that traffic, four alpha victor.” I was suddenly worried I wouldn’t be able to see the traffic, it was hazy, and I was going to look very silly. I then realized it really wasn’t a big deal, we’re in a pattern, and he’s turning final, I’m midfield…” At this point, I realized I was passing the threshold, so I reduced power, pulled the carb heat, added 10 degrees of flaps and tried to maintain altitude for a few seconds while the airspeed bled off. At the same time, I spotted the traffic (it’s pretty easy to see turning traffic) and called back, “Traffic in sight, niner four alpha victor.” Next thing I knew, it was time to turn base. I did so and noticed that my airspeed had, somehow, managed to hit 80 knots. I pulled out the rest of the power, held the nose a little higher and got it slowed down to 70. I turned final, dropped another 10 degrees of flaps, and briefly thought about the view of a runway.

It’s an interesting thing, that trapezoidal wedge of runway, smack in the center of your field of view. Landing is a weird thing. You stare at this wedge of ground, and fly AT IT. It keeps getting bigger, and you have to fight the temptation to stop flying at it. As it got a bit bigger, I realized that I was still a little fast and wanted to sink a little faster, so I put out the last 10 degrees of flaps. The airspeed indicated read just under 65 the last time I looked at it, when I finally decided it was time to stop flying at ground quite so fast, and fly just over it. It’s a tough transition to make smoothly, and the plane wobbled a bit from side to side as I finally got it planted on the ground. It wasn’t a horrible landing, but it wasn’t good. I also wasn’t dead yet. Flaps up, carb heat cold, back to the centerline and full power. In a matter of seconds I was airborne, doing it all over again. The next .3 hours went awfully quickly. My last landing was probably the best I’ve ever made. It’s starting to get better. I just need a lot more practice.

After I parked the plane, D. congratulated me and shook my hand. When I filled out my logbook, I got to list .4 hours under the column reading PIC. My first PIC time, ever. It better be the first of many.

The weather still sucks. Right now, it’s just barely good enough for me to solo…. It’s It’s 2200ft overcast, but winds are gusting up to 17 knots and are expected to pick up a bit as the day wears on. 18 knots is the maximum (including gust factor). Winds are supposed to be light and variable tomorrow morning, and the sky is supposed to be clear by 8am. So I’m scheduled for 8am. We’ll see what happens.

I tried to pressure D. into letting me solo today since who knows what it will be like tomorrow, and I’ve got to finish. I’m eating up my allowed flight time doing the same things again and again. D. says he talked to a weather briefer for half an hour today who convinced him that tomorrow would be good enough. D. was willing to let me go today if I wanted, but convinced me that tomorrow is probably a better choice. So tomorrow it better be.

I just finished a 15 minute interview with a health insurance company that was supposed to insure me MONTHS ago, but still hasn’t. They asked me questions like, “How much alcohol per week do you consume?” There should be laws about questions like this. There probably are. This health insurance sucks, the company sucks, they’re mean to me, but Joanna says we can’t do any better…

A memorial service was held for my grandmother in Mobile today. There will be another one in her hometown of Richmond, VA on June 5th that Berck and I are planning on attending.

Here’s a eulogy my dad delivered at the service today. I thought it was a pretty cool synopsis of my grandmother’s life…

DOROTHEA BOCK STAPLES
June 11, 1915 – May 11, 2004

Most of you here in Mobile knew her either as Sarah’s mom, Robert’s mom-in-law, Joanna, Stephanie or Ben’s grandmother or the little ole lady in the wheelchair with the big smile.

She was certainly all of those things, but her younger days were pretty amazing.

Born in Cincinnati Ohio to first generation German immigrants, she had to work diligently both in helping her parents with their business as well as completing her studies in school. And it was in these educational endeavors that she really excelled. In fact, one of her great achievements was winning a national academic award that resulting in her, and about 11 other young ladies, joining Eleanor Roosevelt for Tea in the White House.

After getting her degree from the University of Cincinnati, she entered the Navy and served as a lieutenant in the Waves. While in the service she married Ernest Staples, and left the service to give birth to their son Bill in 1945. Then after the war, the family settled in Virginia where Sarah was born. When Sarah was 10 the family moved to Richmond where Dottie became a school teacher.

Dottie excelled in teaching and in the early 1970s she was chosen VA Public Television’s Educational Math teacher. For a number of years, her lessons were broadcast into schoolrooms statewide.

Dottie poured herself into whatever she did and church was no exception. When the family moved to Richmond in the late 50s, they joined a large downtown church, Second Presbyterian, and became an integral part of that community. She helped with hospitality events, sang in the choir, ran the soup kitchen that fed the homeless, and was the adopted mom to countless refugees and seminarians that attended the church. Dottie was also deeply involved in the Presbyterian Women’s programs and when she was in her late 70’s, she served for several years as President of the Presbyterian Women of the James, a network of 100 plus churches. On May 1, 1993, she was awarded an Honorary Life membership.

She also served on the Session of Second Presbyterian Church and in 2001 was awarded the honor of Elder Emeritus.

But without a doubt, her greatest joy was as a grandmother. She dearly loved her 4 grandchildren, and though her German nature tended to require much of them, in reality there was nothing that any might do that would dissuade her from loving them without limits. She relished any news from them–always celebrating the joy of their achievements, and she prayed mightily for them to become strong women and men of God.

In December 1994, while visiting 3 of those grandchildren here in Mobile, Dottie suffered a debilitating stroke. During the following 9 1/2 years, she faced almost insurmountable odds, but with great fortitude and a deep faith she pressed on to finish the race. Many would have given up or become resentful, but somehow she became softer and more in love with Jesus. She longed to go home, but knew the timing was in His hands.

Then the coup de grace happened 6 weeks ago when her first great grandchild, Ian Nathaniel, was born. For days she would wheel around the house with this great big smile on her face saying his name over and over again. “Ian, Ian, Ian.”

On May 2 she participated in his baby dedication which took place on the deck of our home in the country. As a part of the service, there was a time for individuals to come forward and pray for baby Ian. Several walked forward and prayed-some out loud, others silently. After what seemed the final prayer, one could hear the sound of the wheels rolling across the wood decking. We all watched in wonder as Dottie wheeled over to her great grandson, laid her hands on Ian’s head and said with the limited words that she was able to speak one of the most eloquent prayers of all.

“Thank You, Thank you, Thank you.”

And like the 84 year old prophetess Anna who lived for the day that she could give thanks for the Messiah, 88 year old “great grandma Dottie” gave thanks to God for this child who represented yet another generation.

The smile on her face and the joy in her heart must have brought great delight to her Father God. For 10 days later, He lovingly called her home.

And what a home that must be!

The scriptures we read today talked about
A banquet of the best meats and finest wines.
A time when all tears are wiped away.
A home for even the sparrow that is near to God.
A gathering around God in which is so overwhelming that all one can do is forever praise Him.

We as finite beings want to ascribe descriptions to eternal life that have to do more with place than relationship. But perhaps heaven is a great deal less about a place than about that completed intimate relationship with our God that we have so deeply desired since creation.

And if that is so, then all the reason why those who get closer to heaven better understand the power and significance of our relationships on this earth.

The Bible tells us in Psalm 145 that

“One generation shall praise Thy works to another and shall declare Thy might acts.” For it is in doing this that we are able to pass on the real TRUTH about this life we live.

Dorothea Bock Staples did just that
for her children,
her grandchildren
and her great grandchild

and the generations to come will bear the fruit of both her life AND her prayers.