An Eclectic Mind

Sure, they can pass tests. But can they tell time?

I had a heavy shock today in the Safeway Supermarket in Wickenburg, AZ when I witnessed the following exchange between a cashier/manager and the teenage clerk who was bagging groceries at her register.

Girl: Do I get a break today?

Cashier (after studying a break sheet): Yes. You have lunch at 3 o’clock.

Girl: What time is it now?

Cashier (pointing to the clock on the wall): Look at the clock.

Girl (laughing): I can’t tell time on that.

I looked at the clock. It was a typical wall clock — you know, the round kind with two hands and a bunch of numbers. It read 1:35 PM.

Me (to the girl): You can’t tell time on a regular clock?

Girl (still laughing): No.

Teenage Guy behind me on line: I can’t either.

Me (to the girl): And you think that’s funny? What school did you go to?

Girl (still laughing but now moved to the end of the next register; I think I was scaring her): Wickenburg.

We’ll cut the conversation here, mostly because I became outraged and had to be calmed by the cashier, who is about my age. I reminded her that I learned how to tell time when I was 5 and I’m sure she was about the same age.

The point of all this is the fact that today’s kids apparently lack basic skills that they need to get by in life. How can an 18-year-old girl not know how to tell time on a standard analog clock? What else does she not know how to do? Read? Write in full sentences? Spell the words that might appear on a job application?

How the hell does she expect to get anywhere in life? Or is her highest aspiration to be a bagger in a grocery store? No offense to folks with challenged kids, but mentally retarded people can do that.

Yet apparently, this kid can pass the tests she needs to graduate high school.

No child left behind? Sure.

A vacation…sort of.

On Sunday evening, I left my seasonal workplace in Page, AZ to spend a few days at home in Wickenburg.

I’d been in Page since August 10, when I flew my helicopter to Page airport from Seattle. Since then, I’ve been working with American Aviation to offer custom photo flights and day trips in the Lake Powell and Monument Valley areas. I squeezed in flights between chapters of a book I was contracted to write. Between flying, writing, and dealing with a bad back (now healed), I kept very busy. I was ready for a break.

I’d planned to go home on Monday, mostly because we’d had one of our horses put down on Thursday and I wanted to be there for my “family.” But I got a call on Saturday to do a helicopter flight in Wickenburg and the only time available was on Sunday afternoon. So I came back early and made a few bucks on a photo flight for some really nice guys.

I also had work to do at home. I needed to put together some promotional materials for flying at Page, using files on the iMac in my office. But the Internet was down for two days, making it difficult to get the information I needed to get the work done.

I soon found myself stressed out by a number of things:

• My sole remaining horse, alone for more than a few hours for the first time in his life, spent a lot of time pacing his corral, calling out to a friend who would never come. It was heartbreaking. I had to keep the windows closed at night so his whinnies wouldn’t keep me up.
• My inability to complete the work I needed to do because of the Internet outage. This was aggravated by the knowledge that I had more reliable Internet in a campground in Page than I had in my house in Wickenburg.
• My growing dissatisfaction with life in Wickenburg. I’d spent the summer on the road and had seen a lot of places I’d rather be. I almost resented having to come home.
• The seemingly endless list of chores I had at home. Life was much simpler in a 21-foot travel trailer in a campground.

When my Internet service came back online and Mike returned from his trip to New York on Tuesday evening, I started mellowing out. I was able to get work done and had someone to share the chores. I pushed back the date of my return to Page. And we went down to Scottsdale for a wine tasting with friends.

My friend, Tom, owns a house in Wickenburg. But these days he spends only one or two nights a week there. He owns a condo in the Deer Valley area of Phoenix, where his business is based. He has friends and a real social life down in Scottsdale. On Wednesday evening, I met Mike at the Kierland Resort for drinks and ceviche at Deseo. Then we drove over to Bacchus for their weekly wine tasting, where Tom was a regular. We tasted some extremely mediocre wines, then shared a few bottles of good wine with Tom’s friends. Then off to Ra to sober up with sushi and tea before the long drive back to Wickenburg.

Mike is thinking of buying a condo in the Biltmore area of Phoenix as an escape to civilization for us. He drives 80 miles each way from Wickenburg to Phoenix for work and is tired of it. (Unfortunately, there are very few good paying jobs in Wickenburg.) He knows about my growing dissatisfaction with Wickenburg and my need for a social life that’s impossible to attain in a half-dead retirement town. Wednesday evening’s activities confirmed our need to get out of town a lot more often.

I flew back to Page on Friday morning. While in Wickenburg, my mechanic, Ed, had installed a new battery and changed the oil in the helicopter. The starter had plenty of juice when I fired the helicopter up at 7:30 AM. I had a great flight back to Page, where I got a warm welcome from my friends.

And last night, I went to my very first high school football game. Mohave beat Page, 24 to 7.

More lazy blogging…some thoughts about being home after 2 months of living in a 21-foot travel trailer.

The fruits (or flowers) of my labor.

Before I left Wickenburg for the summer, I planted a small garden in some beds at the back of our house. The garden had a few vegetable plants — tomatoes, peppers, and eggplant — as well as some sunflowers.

I like the giant sunflowers, but I also planted some shorter varieties. One of the giants was in bloom when I left. The others have apparently bloomed as well. But not before some of them have reached heights of 8 feet or more!

Here’s the photo Mike sent today. I’m impressed.

What I like best about sunflowers is what happens after they go to seed: the birds land on them and feed right off the flower head. Mike will have plenty of that activity to enjoy while I’m gone.

I had some leftover seeds and I brought them with me to Washington State. I tried twice to plant them around the water spigot for my camper. There’s dirt there and its almost always wet. I think birds or rabbits got the first seedlings and the lawnmower got the second. I’ve given up. Instead, I have a planter that contains two tomato plants, some basil, and some flowers. That’s as green as my thumb can get here in the RV park, I guess.

I’m not impressed.

Yesterday, my friend Ray flew me down to Mesa, AZ, in his airplane so I could pick up my helicopter, which was down there for its big annual inspection. While we were taxiing from Ray’s hangar to Runway 23 in Wickenburg, we heard the following exchange between two pilots on Wickenburg’s frequency:

Premier 1-2-3 (not the exact call sign; Premier is a small “corporate” jet): Wickenburg, this is Premier 1-2-3. Is there anyone there?

PanAm 5 (not the exact call sign; PanAm is a flight school based at Deer Valley Airport (DVT) that does a lot of practice landings at Wickenburg): This is PanAm 5 at Wickenburg.

Premier 1-2-3: Can you tell me the winds down there?

PanAm 5: The winds are shifting around a little, but they’re mostly out of the southwest at about 5 or 6 knots.

Premier 1-2-3: Oh, great. Thanks….So that means you’re using Runway 26 down there? Is that the runway number?

PanAm 5: It’s actually Runway 23.

Premier 1-2-3: Oh, thanks. We don’t have any approach charts or anything for Wickenburg so we’re kind of flying by the seat of our pants.

Yes, he really said that.

The radio went quiet for a few moments, then another pilot called to say he was 5 miles north, inbound for landing.

Premier 1-2-3: Premier 1-2-3 is about 3 miles south. We’ll be making left traffic for Runway 23.

Pan Am 5: Actually, it’s right traffic for Runway 23 at Wickenburg.

Premier 1-2-3: Okay. Thanks. Right traffic for Runway 23.

At this point, the FBO attendant came on the radio to provide wind and unofficial altimeter setting information. (It’s a good thing the altimeter setting is unofficial, since it’s off by nearly 100 feet.) She asked if the jet wanted fuel on landing and he told her he didn’t, that he was just dropping off some passengers.

We were holding short behind a PanAm plane when the jet came in, zipping past us. He was nearing the other end of the runway where the terminal was when the FBO woman came on again to ask if he knew where to park to discharge his passengers. He told her he’d been there before, then advised everyone that he was off the runway.

Ray and I had been discussing this jet pilot’s lack of professionalism while we were waiting. Both of us knew that one of a pilot’s responsibilities for a flight, as stated in Part 91 of the Federal Aviation Regulations (FAR’s). From Section 91.103, Preflight Action: “Each pilot in command shall, before beginning a flight, become familiar with all available information concerning that flight.” Surely that must include runway numbers (which are determined by magnetic course headings) and traffic pattern information. This information is available on the Sectional Chart and in the Airport/Facilities Directory, both of which are required to be on board for commercial flights. They’re also available on the Web on various airport information Web sites and on the FAA’s Web site. Heck, I’m a helicopter pilot and I’m supposed to avoid fixed wing traffic when I land at airports, yet I usually know the runway numbers and traffic pattern information just so I can get an idea of where planes might be.

This guy simply hadn’t done his homework.

The PanAm plane in front of us took off. Ray rolled onto the runway. As the PanAm plane drifted to the north of the centerline (likely because of the wind), we took off and headed south.

I’ve since given the exchange a bit more thought. What if the Jet was arriving after 4 PM, when the FBO was closed, and the traffic pattern was empty. Where would he have gotten his information. He was only 5 miles out on his first call; would he have had time to look at his chart or A/FD? Or would he have assumed Runway 26 from memory, made a left traffic pattern low over the homes on the southeast and east sides of the airport, and adjusted his approach only when he realized he was on the wrong heading — 30° off? Approaching at a heading of 260 would have put him right over the homes on Broken Arrow Road — the homes of people already complaining about noise now that the runway is 1500 feet closer to their homes. Would his action have had a long-term impact on the airport?

The point here is, all pilots are responsible for gathering information about the flight — including the airport they intend to land at. This guy acted irresponsibly and was fortunate enough to have people on the ground that could provide him with the information he needed.

But as any pilot knows, you’re not always lucky. You need to do your homework before you get on board and start the engines.