I’m Doing This Before I Die

I think most people have a list of what they plan on doing before they die. Whether it is a completely insane like hang-gliding off the Empire State Building or as simple as going to Italy I have always had a respect for those who at least value life enough to make a future list. We only go around this merry-go-round once (I think) so we should make the most of it.

Really, this thought was inspired by the late, great Professor Randy Pausch. If you are not familiar with him let me catch you up to speed. He was a computer science professor at Carnegie Mellon until he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer that metastasized through his body so rapidly, there was nothing that modern medicine could do but give him 3 to 6 months to live. Knowing his mortality he gave the most inspirational lectures that I have ever heard about living to live rather than preparing to die. He lived his last days the way we should live everyday. An amazing person. Here is a quick clip about Randy and I will post the entire lecture at the end of this post. Please watch it at some point.

So here is my list of what I want to do before I check out. Some of these may seem ridiculous but it’s my list so back off! Just kidding. They may seem a little silly.

I want to climb El Capitan. Just the thought of standing next to this rock makes me momentarily lose bladder control. I have a long way to go for this so I am starting small. Yesterday I climbed onto the roof of my car.
Learn the entire Thriller dance. Plus the “Moon Walk”.
Qualify and complete the Hawaii Kona Triathlon.

Pet a live Great White without losing a limb or cutting this list short.
Perform the Heimlich on someone. That is depending on circumstance but if push comes to shove, I might just “mistake” someone as a choking victim just to knock this one off the list.
Watch the space Shuttle take off from Cape Canaveral.
See Iron Maiden, reunion of The Darkness, and Daft Punk in Germany.
Streak somewhere.
Get an IHOP sponsor for a relay eco-challenge team so I can legitimately claim we are powered by pancakes.
See Aurora Borealis.
Sing Flock Of Seagulls at a Karaoke bar in Key West, FL.
Learn “Classical Gas” on guitar.
Tell everyone I have wronged how sorry I am and tell my family that I love them all.
Mentor a kid.
Maybe have a kid of my own.
Catch a home run from an opposing team and then throw it back onto the field.
Read War and Peace, understand it and then teach it.
Watch the F-14 fly again.
Write my book and make it to some best seller list.
Throw a paper airplane off the Eiffel Tower.
Swim in the Dead Sea.
Write a blog about a lot of nonsense.

There are a lot more but that is what I have for now. I am sure most people would have more meaningful items but then again, I don’t live a life like that. You have to have fun. I think that is the secret to life. I wish I could have asked Jack Palance.

Here is Professor Randy Pausch’s entire final lecture. Please watch if you have the time. It will be worth it.

August 4, 2008 15

Sad Songs Say So Much

I guess Iam in a little bit of a melancholy mood this evening. It’s been a long day and I find myself, again, in a hotel room far from anything familiar. Really, the funny thing about long periods of solitude without much human interaction is the chance of reflection. So I thought I would listen to some songs on YouTube and reminisce because of course, nothing is closer linked to my memory than songs and soundtracks. But I have to warn you, these are sad songs.

I can really take or leave Bruce Springsteen and it’s not because of his music. Personally I think he is a pompous jerk especially after a 60 Minutes interview where he basically told the reporter he is smarter than the average American and is the voice of the majority. But I digress. His song “My Hometown” is a song that gives me the chills just hearing the intro keyboard. I consider myself to be very patriotic but not in the sense that I feel we need to force the American way on every third world nation. I hear this song and think about kids at bus stops, Dad leaving for work with the hard hat in one hand and lunch in the other. I think about Mom pulling the late shift at the grocery to make a little extra for the family and Friday night football games. This is a reflection of America.

This is going to be a tough one. I’m not the biggest country music fan in the world but Willie Nelson is an exception. He has this bravado about him that I consider more rock than anything else. Perhaps it’s because he sticks it to “the man” by not paying taxes and openly smokes weed. Regardless, after my Grandfather passed, Willie and I became a little closer.

My Grandfather passed away very suddenly from a heart attack and a day later I found myself in Bakersfield, California with the rest of the immediatefamily. Through out that day we did the un pleasantry’s of funeral arrangements and eulogy writing. My poor Grandmother was still bewildered but her selfless spirit never showed pain as she consoled my Father, Aunts and Uncles. As the day became night everyone left to their respective hotels and I was left to sleep in the guest room with only my Grandmother in the house.

The house was busy with every person in driving distance stopping through to pay their condolences. At any given time there was no less than thirty people in a relatively small ranch home so when the last person left the silence was deafening. She and I sat on the couch and watched old British comedies on PBS as the time slipped passed 1 am. Looking at the clock she suggested I retire to bed and she would too after her wine. It was difficult for me to find the appropriate words, but she read my face and insisted she was fine. She would be in bed shortly.

As I layed down in bed I stared at the ceiling and tried to remember my Grandfather in a light that would be positive for the wake. He was a very abrasive person. I can think of more than one instance when he would say “I sure do love you, Goddamn it”. A colleague of his at UC Berkley once said that my Grandfather had to be the bride at every wedding and corpse at every funeral. At least that was partly accurate. Regardless, I did find the good times but that was interrupted by the sound of music from the study down the hall. It was the unmistakable sound of Willie Nelson’s classical guitar. So I got out of bed to see what was happening and found my Grandmother sitting next to the record player with a lap full of letters and pictures. She looked up, half expecting me to be there.

“I guess I wasn’t ready to look at his empty pillow.”

You know, there are a handful of moments in your life that really take your breath away. That was one of mine. I sat next to her as she shared old love letters during World War II when she was stationed in San Fransisco (she was an officer in the Navy) and he was in the Pacific. She also showed me pictures of the family from the 50’s to the late 70’s including a glorious one of my Dad with sideburns and bellbottoms. Everytime the song would end she would ask me to replay it and we would go back to remembering my Grandfather, Bill. This lasted for two bottles of wine and a sunrise.

She died a year later. I never told anyone in the family about our time together. I’ve always looked at my Grandmother as the source that smoothed out the rough wake my Grandfather made. But the time we spent together gave me the chance to know her as elegant, graceful, and strong woman with the dignity that is impossible to come by today. I do miss her and love her so.

When I found this song, “Stardust” by Willie Nelson on YouTube I made it through about ten seconds. I guess even two years later it is too soon for me to hear it. I do ask that you give it a try. It was one of B. Webster’s favorites.

“Into The White” by Cat Stevens (Yusuf) is hands down one of my favorite songs. I think the word beautiful was meant for creations like this. No matter how many times I listen, it never gets old. I even butcher it on guitar and sing but that’s only for my ears. Enjoy this one. I have for as long as I can remember.

Who doesn’t love Jim Croce? Hm? Hm? That’s what I thought. The song “Operator” will always remind me of the time I went cross country skiing with Dad and my Uncle, Brett. I was way too young to cross country ski so I ended up being the whiner of the trip. To top things off I got carsick on the way out of the park too. I actually don’t know why this song brings up that memory. Strange.

Well, that’s as depressing as I want to get. But just to balance things out I will leave you with a joke.

“What do you see when the Pillsbury Doe Boy moons you?”

“Donuts”

Good night everybody!

June 5, 2008 17

Easter In Review

I have always had a tough time completely understanding the link between Jesus Christ dying on the cross for our sins and chocolate bunnies. I’m a Catholic by birth and even though I sometimes find my faith in question I never forget that Easter is the one day you had better not miss church. I can blow off every other Sunday and watch football or something equally pointless but on Easter, God is taking role call. That’s where my Easter confusion comes to a head. When did bunnies and chicks start sharing the spotlight with my sins being forgiven? Look at this orgy of dysfunction.

I’m fairly certain that if the day of Easter had the ability to, it shit on this guys front yard. Just driving by it causes people to veer of the road in utter disbelief over the hundreds of inflatable bunnies and chicks. There is so much pastels on this property it looks like BearForce One was skydiving and had a catastrophic accident all over the yard.

Do you think that most of these inflatable rabbits and eggs are filled with exhaled bong hits? I do. I think in order to pull off this Easter horror house one has to be high or incredibly disturbed. I’m not talking triple coupon day at Michaels disturbed but Ed Gein disturbed. I bet everything inside the house is inflatable too. And that is enough to make me drive faster when passing this place.

An inflatable Peep for fuck-sake! Do you order these? Where would one buy such disturbing yard ornaments? Ask too many questions, I do. And that is a dangerous thing with people who have 4 foot bunnies hanging by their necks from both sides of the front door.

Sorry Jesus. I don’t know where we strayed but thanks for taking it in stride.

In other news I found Corey Taylor’s (front man for Slipknot) mother’s mask at Macy’s. It turns out she is the lead vocal for the home band in Iowa with the other mom’s of Slipknot. They call themselves Stitchknit. I kid, I kid.

You have to look sideways because I am weeetauted.

March 24, 2008 21

If We Are Going Down…

One of my favorite blogs, Vonnegut’s Asshole by Eric Spitznagel, really had a great post about the thoughts one has when traveling on a plane and truly believes there is something wrong and a crash is imminent. Now I’ll be honest with you I have been on a few flights that made my knuckles white but that was before I decided to make a career in aviation. Regardless, there is nothing more terrifying than being in a tube at 30,000 feet with a bunch of strangers plummeting to the earth in flames. I think it is a control issue with me because that is a scenario where you are totally helpless.

There was a particular flight I was on in the late 90’s when I was traveling home on leave. Leaving out of Laguardia during a severe thunderstorm there was an air of uncertainty among the passengers as we waited on the taxi way. I remember feeling anxious while thumbing through the Delta Skymall magazine. Trying to make small talk with the woman to the right I asked, “You know it’s funny how they sell a remote control R2-D2, diamond rings, and dog beds out of the same magazine.” The older woman looked at me with a half of a smirk and then turned back to read her Vogue magazine. She didn’t want to be in coach and that was for sure. Much less talk to someone in coach.

So I sat there, flipping through the Skymall pages, wishing I could have electric shin warmers and an 18th century espresso machine and feeling a little rejected from Mrs. Botox. I definitely didn’t feel like reading this for the next 2 hours so I tucked it back in the seat pouch, folded my arms and closed my eyes. Then the pilot came on the intercom.

“Good evening folks from the flight deck. Apparently the tower feels it is safe for us to take off so we are currently number 2 for take off. We’ll talk to you when we are airborne and out of this weather. Flight attendants please finish your cross checks and prepare the cabin for departure.”

I opened my eyes and looked across the aisle to see the seasoned business man folding his N.Y. Times, tighten his lap belt and strain to see out both the left and right windows. We caught eyes and there was a nervous exchange of expressions as he raised his eyebrows and frowned as if to say, “never heard that one before”. I looked to my right and the older woman was still buried in her magazine so I looked passed her out the window. The sight was a little unnerving as the red flashing taxi light on the wing illuminated the torrential downpour while the skyline became visible every three seconds with the help of severe lightning. Time for happy thoughts.

I heard the roar of the aircraft taking off in front of us as the pilot increased the engine power and turned on the runway. I looked back to the business man and noticed his overhead light was still on but the Times was tucked in the seat pouch and he was stoned face and had a death grip on his armrest. My eyes followed the the armrests down the aisle and everyone had a similar grip as well. I turned my head towards the back of the plane and the flight attendants were gabbing away in their little bucket seats so my comfort was restored a little. They do this everyday so why am I freaking out?

Well the engines started up and we were on our way. Ever since I was little I hummed the theme song to The Last Starfighter during the take off role so this was no different. But right before we lifted off there was a huge lurch interrupting the climax of my song and causing a shriek among the passengers. The pilot pulled hard and put the plane in such an attitude I know there were warning bells in the cockpit. But we weren’t out of the woods. The next few minutes really caused me to evaluate my 20 years on earth as I was certain the only thing that would be found of me would be an eyelash and teeth.

The lurch coming off the runway was so violent it caused the emergency aisle lights to turn on and about half the yellow plastic Dixi cups with bags on them to drop from the overhead. The snotty lady that was so into her Vogue magazine was now latched onto my arm and squeezing my hand. She kept repeating ‘Oh gwod! Oh gwod!”. Giving the situation I too had a chat with Gwod. I asked him to have a sense of humor when I meet him.

The aircraft leveled out from what I could tell as the pilot tried to correct the harsh take off. The turbulence was just incredible and people began to really panic. I heard some guy a few rows in front exclaim, “why are the engines slowing down?” and a woman who was sitting away from her husband profess her love for him. As we all sat there preparing for the worst I could only think of one thing. You know what that was?

If I die I hope they don’t just pack all my stuff up at Ft. Drum and send it back to my parents. I had a collection of Penthouse magazines in my footlocker and would die twice if my Mom found that. I had to survive. Or at least I had to haunt Ft. Drum and figure out away to make sure they didn’t mail that home.

Soon the ride smoothed and people slowly began to realize they just might survive this. The grip was still strong on my arm from the queen of Queens and she asked if I think we will ok. I said we would be fine and she sheepishly slid from around my arm and placed her hands on her knees. The gentleman to my left was visibly shaken but soon he pulled out the N.Y. Times and laid it on his lap. I think he had no intention to read it but just to acknowledge the worst was over. I too released my fists and breathed a long sigh of relief but no one summed up the feeling better than the passenger in the back shouting to his buddy in the front, “Hey Frank! Did you just shit yourself or what?”

It’s funny but that was nearly a decade ago and those 10 minutes are so clear I feel like it happened yesterday. I can’t remember what I had for breakfast but I can still feel the bony fingers on my arm from that lady. Now that I am in the commercial aviation field I am sure that wasn’t a near death experience and I believe the pilots were having the time of their lives but to the 130 passengers on that flight, it was. I still think of baggage claim. Everyone was so nice. Funny how almost dying can bring that out in a bunch of New Yorkers.

March 5, 2008 15

Where Did You Go? Part 3

Ok, I can’t help but continue my tribute to those who aren’t a household name but are the center of my movie favorites. I think it is for that very reason I am such a fan of these people. I want to see what they are up to and I sometimes wonder if I would be the only weirdo that would recognize them in a grocery store and beg for an autograph on my box of Triscuits. So lets get going.

I like Darren Harris. We know Anthony Micheal Hall and of course John Cusack but what the hell happened to Darren? He symbolized the perfect geek in the movie Sixteen Candles, Better Off Dead and Weird Science. All three movies rank high on my 80’s must see. Darren was the best geek actor ever. Seriously the best because I am positive I was friends with this kid in high school. Everyone like me had an asthmatic buddy who knew how to build a computer, play the trumpet, had peanut butter sandwiches stuck in his braces and dreamed of one day becoming a Navy SEAL. I don’t know why but it is tough to find out about Darren other than his work as Cliff “Wheeze” in Sixteen Candles and he is from Canada.

Darren, if you read this please let us know what you are up to. I hope you are still alive man.

Thomas F. Wilson is Biff/Griff Tannen. Sorry Tommy but that is who you are. I know you have been in hundreds of TV episodes and animated voice-overs since then but every time I see you I will be waiting for you to knock on someones melon shouting “hello, hello butt-head!” Just kidding Tom. Actually Thomas Wilson is a really funny guy. His stand up is one of the best I have seen and believe it or not he is also a great musician. His hobby is a little strange though. He paints portraits of childhood toys. Hrm…

Fuckin’ eh it’s Porkins, baby! Actually it is William Hootkins This guy had a long career in some of the greatest films like Raiders of the Lost Arc, Batman and of course Star Wars: A New Hope. Believe it or not he was born in Dallas, Texas and moved to London after studying at Princeton and becoming fluent in Russian and Mandarin Chinese. It kind of sucks that he was such a brilliant man and talented on stage actor but landed the fat boy role as Porkins, the tubby X-Wing pilot. I always imagined his maintenance crew cleaning out McDonalds bags from the floor board of his ship. Poor Porkins.

William passed away in 2005 after losing a battle to pancreatic cancer. He was 57. The force will be with you William, always.

Well this is a little embarrassing. Apparently Gizmo was just a puppet. Moving on.

David Graf was just an awesome guy. He will always be Tackleberry from the Police Academy movies. Even though he has been in everything from M.A.S.H. to the Star Trek I can’t help but call every cop I see Tackleberry. It sucks to say this but Dave passed away in 2001 from a heart attack. I hate finding out these guys died when I am trying to see what they are up to today. I think I watch way too much TV because I feel like a classmate died.

I know I have written about Airwolf on here before but I wanted to focus on Jean Bruce Scott. It has always bothered me that in the intro there is a shot of her eating chicken. I still to this day only think of the character, Catalin O’Shannessy as a chicken eater. I’ll post the intro again for you to see. Today she is back in the saddle again producing and writing after a long hiatus from her acting career in shows like MacGuyver, Jake and The Fat Man, Matlock, Newhart, ect… But like the on going X-Entertainment funny, I don’t want to think about chicken when I am watching Airworlf.