All in a day’s work

Today I

* Fixed Michele’s laptop wireless connection so it would talk to her desktop
* Sent a change of address message to all of the people who e-mailed Duncan to his old e-mail address since August 1 to use his new e-mail address
* Searched through Michele’s cumulative notes for specific contacts in Colorado
* Converted scanned documents through OCR into word processing documents and combined them into single documents
* Picked a bunch of rosehips

The last task was by far the most fun (and was, of course, on my own time). Michele has been using a bunch of the rosehips she picks to make rosehip mead. Doesn’t that just sound wonderful?

I don’t think there’s any better way to wind down from the day than by going and picking fruit.

Unless you’re a migrant worker, obviously.

Berck came out for supper, and we had burgers and corn on the cob straight from the garden and two bottles of Duncan’s homemade wine.

PowerPoint, Apples, and Wireless Networks

I had a busy day yesterday.

My interview at CBA seemed to go really well. They actually went ahead with the second phase of the interview process, which involved some testing, both a SAT-like written test and a computer aptitude test. For the computer test, I had to answer five questions by finding the answers in the CBA website (most of them I already knew the answers to because I know CBA). The second part of the test was fiddling with an Excel spreadsheet and then extrapolating the data into a PowerPoint slide presentation with graphs and such. Fortunately, I had given myself a crash course in Excel the day before, because I’ve never really used the program before (at least as it is intended). But I REALLY haven’t used PowerPoint before. So I spent most of the 45 allotted minutes figuring out how to make slides and import my shiny pretty Excel graphs. I managed to finish the assigned task in time, but the result wasn’t very glamorous. I felt extremely proud of myself for making two programs I have no experience with do what I wanted. But my slide show wasn’t at all creative, and the position is for the Communications and Marketing Department. I thought about telling the HR people about my triumph over ignorance, but since I’m supposed to have Microsoft Office down pat for the position, I decided against it.

From there I went to Monument’, where Michele and Duncan hired me to do busy work for them so they can focus on actually making money. “What is the going wage for this kind of work?” Michele asked.

“For new-hire administrative stuff, 8 to 9 dollars an hour.”

“Let’s make it 10.”

Duncan said, “That’s a steal!”

I solved several problems for Michele in the first hour or so, and then went about gleaning certain contact information from the notes she had taken and saved each day. I’ll probably continue that today… after I figure out how to make the laptop talk to the desktop through the wireless network.

Berck came over after he finished working, and he and Michele and I loaded up a wagon with buckets and raided the apple tree on Brown’s Place. I climbed the tree and shook branches, while the apples fell on Berck and Michele as they picked them up.

But now I must go back to work.

Work! I have some work!

CBA

CBA or Christian Booksellers Association is a trade association for retailers for Christian products–books, music, gifts. CBA hired my dad in 1986, which brought our family to Colorado Springs from Georgia. He was the membership director there until we moved to Mobile in 1990 for his job at Integrity Music. I’ve been checking the websites of different companies and organizations here, especially ones that employ people I knew. CBA had one position open, an administrative assistant for the Communications & Marketing Department. Dad was leaving the very next day for a three-month stay in Singapore, but after a flurry of phone calls, I got a message from HR telling me to hurry and send my resume in because they were in the last stages of filling the position. Dad said that I would be working for the guy who replaced the guy (a good friend of the family who just moved to Pheonix last year) who replaced my dad.

Actual Fact: In 1992, roadside posters of Cindy Crawford had to be removed in Norway when authorities noticed a 300% increase in the accident rate as motorists were distracted by them

First hour dual given…

I gave my first lesson today. My student was a glider instructor for the academy, so as my flight commander poitned out, “He has more dual given than you do.”

He’s almost done with the program, and flies well which is why they gave him to me. A hundred hours or so instructing in a glider helps.

It’s weird being called sir. Incessantly. The word “sir” showed up at least twice in every sentence. At one point I point I pointed an RJ that was crossing above us because it was a pretty cool view. “Very cool sir,” he said.

I took the controls only once while I had him put foggles on, otherwise he flew quite well. His landings weren’t perfect, but perfectly acceptable.

I was pretty nervous before the flight, and tried hard not to show it. After the flight, the other instructors congratulated me. And then picked me up and me off to the water tank to toss me in. The tank sits out there so that they can throw the cadets in after their first solo. I asked if they’d thrown any other instructors in after their first flight with a student. “No, but you’re the first instructor we’ve ever had with zero hours dual given!” After chucking me in the tank they complained that I didn’t put up much of a fight. I thought about it, but I was worried that I would end up with my head smacked into the pavement considering they had a heck of a time carrying me.

So now I’m an instructor. While I don’t have my flight suit yet, I’ve got my name badge now. It’s got wings, my name and, “INSTRUCTOR PILOT” printed on it. Woohoo.

Last week I did a very silly thing. I was preflighting my plane and had to walk two planes away to dump the fuel sample I got out of the tanks into a safety can on the ramp. When I resumed my preflight activities, the flight commander giving me the flight asked, “What are you doing?” “Uhm. The preflight checklist?” I responded. Then I realized that there was a cadet standing at the other end of the plane staring at me, and that it wasn’t my plane at all. I felt stupid, returned to my plane and didn’t think much about it.

Until yesterday when I passed my acceptance flight. White flight instructors all welcomed me aboard, and then proceeded to make fun of me about preflighting someone else’s plane. The guy whose plane I was preflighting said, “Hey, any time you want to preflight my plane for me…” My flight commander mentioned that he would considering concluding standup briefings with the words, “Berck, go preflight our planes!” And then they established a verb. “Bercking around” which apparently means doing some pointless activity. In any case, it all makes me feel rather welcome– it’s a all done in good fun, and I feel like I belong now.