Why I want to be an airline pilot

A Lufthansa crew has been in the news lately (link).  They attempted to land an Airbus A320 at Hamburg in a strong gusty crosswind, failed to stabilize the approach, touched a wingtip, added power and went around for another try.  Here are excerpts from some news stories:  “pilots avert major crash”, “saved the lives of 131 passengers”, “The aircraft’s pilot, referred to simply as ‘Oliver A,’ has now been branded a ‘hero,’ for ensuring that the plane landed safely the second time around and for averting what could have very easily turned into a truly fatal disaster.”

Out of the hundreds of newspaper accounts of this incident, none mentioned the fact that nothing required the pilots to attempt to land at Hamburg in this huge windstorm in the first place.  Hamburg has four runways.  Nothing required the pilots to continue on the runway that they were approaching once they realized what a heavy crosswind was involved.  Nothing required the pilots to continue the approach once they realized that they couldn’t keep the airplane stabilized on centerline and on glideslope.  Had this been a light airplane, people would have said “Look at this idiot; he shouldn’t have continued to that airport once he received the weather; he shouldn’t have accepted that runway; he shouldn’t have continued the approach.”  Take the same guy and add 131 passengers and now he is a hero.

Almost everything that happens in an airplane can be predicted 30 minutes prior.  In developed non-mountainous countries the weather does not sneak up on a pilot.  The prudent pilot uses superior judgment so that superior skill is never required.

[I am not putting myself above this Lufthansa pilot.  I made an unnecessary landing in a heavy (for the kind of airplane that I was flying) gusty crosswind because my friend was late for his meeting and I didn’t want to divert to another airport where a landing would have been easy (full story).  I don’t call myself a hero, though.  I call myself an idiot who is lucky not to have scraped a wingtip.]

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Politicians at work

While driving into Bethesda from the Gaithersburg airport on Friday, we turned on the radio and found ourselves listening to a U.S. Senate hearing.  Senator Ted Stevens (R-AK) was grilling Robert Sturgell, the FAA acting administrator, and Mary Peters, head of the Department of Transportation.  Stevens was angry that Peters had not asked for more subsidies for airline travel to small towns.  Alaska was receiving more than 30 percent of all these funds and they had just been cut.  It upset Stevens that someone living in Kotzebue or Barrow would pay more for an airline ticket than someone who had chosen to live in Dallas or Denver.

Stevens’s next harangued Peters and Sturgell for the FAA’s lack of response to a 15-year-old girl having met a guy on the Internet and purchased an airline ticket out of Juneau to North Carolina.  Stevens said that as a father and a grandfather, he was outraged that teenagers could simply buy plane tickets and fly around.  Peters concurred, saying that she was a mother and a grandmother, and that flying teenagers were a bad thing for all concerned.

Frank Lautenberg (D-NJ) attacked the FAA guy for failing to respond to controllers’ complaints about some new departure procedures out of Newark.  A departure procedure is a set of line segments on a map with some default altitudes to fly on each segment.  Sturgell said that the procedures had cost $50 million and 10 years to develop, which included hiring a lot of consultants and getting input from the controllers.  They argued over whether the new procedures put airplanes out of Newark closer or farther away from LaGuardia traffic.  Nobody asked why it should cost $50 million to draw a few lines on a map…

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Where to live, exercise, entertain dog in Cincinnati?

I will be in Cincinnati for three and possibly four months starting March 24, doing some flight training Monday through Friday 8 am until 3 or 5 pm every day.  The training is right at the Cincinnati airport (KCVG), i.e., in Covington, Kentucky.  This leaves me with some questions for my gentle readers…

1) where to live?  I need to find a house or apartment to rent that is dog-friendly (12-year-old well-behaved Samoyed), reasonably close to the airport, and, ideally, close to restaurants and social/cultural activities (maybe near a university?).  I am planning to spend at least half of the weekends in Cincinnati and it would be nice to be somewhere interesting for friends to visit.

2) where to exercise?  I will be doing a lot of classroom work and nighttime study, so will need to go the gym at least 3X/week.  Would be nice to find a gym with a 25-yard pool.

3) options for entertaining a 12-year-old dog?  He likes people and other dogs, especially females, but is getting somewhat creaky.

I’m thinking that it might be nice to hire a thesis-writing humanities graduate student with a love of dogs to keep Alex company during the day and maybe bring him by the airport at lunchtime for a walk/lunch.  That would be another reason to live near a university.  Any idea how to find such a person?

Thanks in advance for any help.

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Bahamas to Boston in a Cirrus SR20 (boring diary, part II)

Saturday, February 23: snorkel in the morning, seeing a lot of interesting fish. Michelle called me over to see a Mako Shark swimming near the surface. He looked remarkably like a Barracuda. Afternoon boat ride with a lot of other guests to see a nest of young Ospreys. Dinner with Paul Breaux, owner of Breaux Vineyards in Virginia, accompanied by some of his wine (shockingly good!).

Sunday, February 24: morning snorkel with our favorite Mako Shark in Barracuda’s clothing. Paid our bill ($1700) for three nights of lodging and 2.5 days of food. Richard from Toronto gave us a lift to the New Bight airport, about a mile away, in his rental car. We departed for North Eleuthera with about 25 gallons of fuel in the airplane. Just before we left we watched a jet depart runway 9 and use up the entire runway before rotating (winds were favoring 27). We back-taxied and departed runway 27. The flight to North Eleuthera was an uneventful 45 minutes. Getting Nassau Approach to respond was a challenge, but necessary because we were going through their Terminal Control Area. Uneventful landing at MYEH and the FBO said that they would park us and fuel us. Hopped in a taxi to the ferry to the taxi to Coral Sands Hotel, a much more luxurious place than Fernandez Bay on Cat Island, albeit not as informal. Coral Sands has locks on the doors and safes in each room. Wifi throughout the premises, but no dogs in evidence.

Rented a couple of single-gear bicycles from Michael’s. He charges $12/day for the $250 machines, which are in pretty rough shape after exposure to salt air. Snorkeled just to the north of the hotel, right off the beach. Saw three lionfish (invasive Pacific species that arrived with a hurricane a few years ago, a refugee from a washed-away home aquarium) and a ray.

Lunch and dinner at the Coral Sands were excellent (about $200 total for very light meals with two drinks total).

Monday: Bike ride in the morning, all around the island (every third house is for sale, it seems), then an after-lunch snorkel trip with Valentine’s Dive shop. Luther, a local guy with six kids, drove us to some beautiful coral gardens just off the SE tip of the island (could have walked down the beach from the Coral Sands and swum out). Dinner at Rock House, supposedly one of the island’s best restaurants ($200 for two including one glass of (bad) wine and no dessert; food not as good as at Coral Sands).

Tuesday: This was our scheduled day of departure from the Bahamas.  A cold front was making life bumpy/thunderstormy in the Southeast and northern Florida.  What was the point of leaving the Bahamas only to get stuck in Vero Beach?  We took a morning stroll along the pink sand beach then taxi and water taxi back to Eleuthera. We agreed to rent a car for $80 per day, a typical rate here. For $80 you get no insurance and are required to take 100 percent responsibility for any damage to the car. When we arrived at the vehicle, a 1998 Chevy Cavalier with 113,000+ miles on it, rust breaking through the paint, I realized that our liability was limited to maybe $300 plus the cost of shipping a new former rental junker from Miami. We drove through mostly vacant land, punctuated every mile by a “lot for sale” sign and every 10 miles by a sandy town with one convenience store selling condensed milk. Eventually we arrived in Governor’s Harbor and decided to hunker down for a couple of nights at Pineapple Fields, a condo/rental development across the street from Tippy’s, one of the town’s best restaurants.

Wednesday: snorkel on the beach in front of hotel; water very calm on the Atlantic side despite raging west wind from approaching cold front. We saw three lobsters and three sea turtles, plus the usual assortment of coral reef residents. Lunch at Tippy’s, then a drive to the Island Farm to stock up on fresh vegetables (arugula, tomatoes, lettuce picked to order, pear-shaped tomatoes picked to order). We stopped to have a look at Ten Bay Beach, supposedly lovely but a little wild with a 30-knot wind coming off the water.

Thursday:  Wake up to gusty strong winds pushing the palm trees around, but after three hours of packing, driving, and preflighting, the skies are clear and the winds have died down to about 10 knots.  Clearing out with the friendly Customs guy at North Eleuthera takes about 5 minutes.  Due to 25-knot headwinds, it takes nearly two hours to fly to Tamiami-Kendall (KTMB).  We clear U.S. Customs uneventfully and taxi over to Reliance to meet my cousin Jennifer.  Her 5-year-old son is in love with the Cirrus and wants to claim it as his own.

After a 15-minute drive past desolate housing developments, we have lunch at a chain Cuban restaurant (La Carreta) in a strip mall.  It isn’t a charming beachside thatch hut like in the Bahamas, but it is tough to argue with the appeal of fried chunks of pork and getting out without a $100 hole in one’s wallet.

We departed TMB around 3 pm and flew up the beach at 500′ above sea level.  The glittering towers and Art Deco classics of South Beach turned into boring concrete blocks by the time we got to Fort Lauderdale.  The most amazing thing was how many unfinished enormous condo buildings there are.  Would you like to buy a 30-story apartment building on the beach?  I have four that I think you could buy.  Still plenty of time to pick finishes…

At 5:30 pm we landed in St. Augustine and hung out with Andres until 7 pm, then departed in the dark for Charleston, S.C.  We finally got a bit of a tailwind, our first since the trip began two weeks earlier, and landed by 8:30 pm.  We checked into the Francis Marion hotel downtown (good location, tiny room, complex expensive in-room Internet that they try to charge you for separately, shuttle to the airport that turns out to cost more than a taxi) and had dinner at the restaurant downstairs.  An after-dinner stroll down King Street went past so many chain clothing stores that it was just like being in an outdoor shopping mall (e.g., the Stanford Mall in Palo Alto, California).

Friday, February 29: Walked around Charleston at the period mansions, beautifully restored.  Each house has a history attached to it, listing the names of the families who occupied the place starting in the early 1800s.  The history trails off in the 1930s usually.  It would be fun to walk around with stickers saying “Now occupied by an SUV driver” to complete each sign’s narrative.  About one quarter of the mansions have “for sale” signs out front.  We had pizza and salad for lunch, then departed IFR for Gaithersburg (KGAI) with an alternate of Dulles (KIAD).  It was nearly a 3-hour flight with a bit of pressure due to lowering ceilings and approaching rain and snow.  Temperatures were cold enough that I resolved not to fly into any clouds for fear of picking up ice.  We landed uneventfully at Gaithersburg.  The airport was deserted due to the wind gusts up to 20 knots (not bad by New England standards, but enough to scare off the locals, especially with the approaching rain).

Saturday:  Family and friends; Hirshhorn and Air and Space.

Sunday:  Met brother Harry and family at Gaithersburg.  Filed, by phone, which is the only option, a VFR flight plan for getting out of the Washington, D.C. Air Defense Identification Zone (ADIZ).  Called on the radio from the ground for a squawk code and departure frequency, then departed Runway 32 (downhill, slight crosswind).  We were able to get a Class B clearance at 3500′ and eventually VFR advisories all the way to Teterboro, NJ (KTEB), about 1:20 at 145 knots over the ground.  Teterboro had winds gusting to 20 knots from 320  yet they were landing Runway 6.  I asked for and received Runway 1, oriented 010 and still a significant crosswind but at least not a tailwind and closer to Jet Aviation.   The Tower issued a wind shear warning; a jet had recently lost 10 knots of airspeed on approach to Runway 6.  Landing with a bit of extra airspeed, in case of wind shear, turned out to be uneventful.

Cousin Lynn and Ross showed up with a picnic, complete with tablecloth and wicker basket.  They’d taken our orders for Jewish deli food.  I ordered corned beef on rye.  Michelle asked for turkey and swiss on whole wheat, which sparked a discussion on what constituted a “Jewish sandwich”.  I gave some examples, such as “chopped liver and pastrami.”  Maybe the best answer is “It has to lead to a near-immediate heart attack.”

We were ready to depart around 3:15 pm.  We paid the $8.14/gallon bill, screwed the cold weather plates back in the nose of the Cirrus, checked the oil, and sampled the fuel.  The nose plates obstruct airflow so that the oil doesn’t get too cold at subfreezing temperatures.  As we flew over Connecticut, the airports and lakes began to show blankets of snow.  The wind at Hanscom Field (KBED) was gusting to 28 knots, variable between 260 and 320.  The Cirrus was a bit of handful on final approach, proving that no matter where you fly you will never find conditions as challenging as at Hanscom.  While taxiing to the hangar we noticed snow piles up to 20′ in height.  Kasim met us and helped unpack and put the plane away.  He had already shoveled out the snow from in front of the hangar.

The best part of coming home was a reunion with Kyle, Alex, and Roxanne.

Apparently nobody told the banks that ladling out free money to the uncreditworthy was a bad idea.  Some friends and I recently formed a bunch of LLCs that will eventually hold airplanes.  Currently, however, none of these LLCs have any assets.  That is apparently no obstacle to obtaining credit, however.  Each LLC received two or three preapproved credit card offers during the two weeks that I was gone.

Trip statistics:  About 2500 nautical miles at an average ground speed of maybe 120 knots, depressingly lower than our average true airspeed of 152 knots.  We made every flight as scheduled except that the entire return from the Bahamas was delayed by two days.  People caught up with:  four sets of friends in New York, one friend in Atlanta, one friend in St. Augustine, one set of cousins in Miami, one set of cousins in New Jersey, one sister, one brother, two parents, about five different friends, all in D.C.  Was the Cirrus an efficient way of getting to the Bahamas?  Not really.  But it was an efficient way to do a bunch of different things and see a lot of widely separated friends and family up and down the East Coast.

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Yacht-schooled children

Conversations with parents and children living on sailboats have proved surprising.  The parents get home-schooling kits to keep their children moving along at grade level.  The folks we talked to said that it takes the kids about two hours per day to get through the material, consistent with other home-schooled kids that I’ve talked to.  The kids spend the rest of their day running the sailboat, exploring new islands, learning about weather and navigation, and reading a lot of books (no Internet most of the time).

What surprised me was the attitude of the children.  One 13-year-old girl, soon to be heading home to her friends and the Mall, said that she wished that she could stay out for another year, crammed together with her parents and siblings on a small boat.  “What about your friends?” I asked, sure that this pretty socially adept girl would have had quite a few good ones.  “I make new friends down here,” she replied.

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Bahamas Real Estate

In Naples, Florida, while waiting in line to buy a Diet Coke at 7-11, a real estate agent gave me her card and offered to help me buy a house there.  The Out Islands of the Bahamas are almost as flush with realtors as Florida.  Let’s look at the economics.

Over the last 80 years or so, the Bahamas have been subject to a cycle of real estate booms and busts.  One of these little “out islands” becomes fashionable with rich people or celebrities, a resort is built, some fancy houses are built.  After a few decades and a few hurricanes, “shabby chic” has turned to “just shabby” and that particular corner of the Bahamas are abandoned for a few decades.

Eleuthera and Cat Island are the two places that we visited on this trip.  Together the two islands are more than 150 miles long, with shoreline on both sides.  That is a lot of beachfront property.  Most of the beachfront property is undeveloped, and due to the poor soil, unused for agriculture.  There are “for sale” signs everywhere and asking prices are quite high, as much as $4 million for a reasonable sized oceanfront lot.

What generates demand?  The Bahamas has no industry, unless you count real estate development, so anyone buying a fancy house here will need to be retiring from elsewhere.  He or she is not going to find a job on the islands.  Most retired folks are fairly old and require frequent visits to doctors and hospitals.  When it comes to education and infrastructure, the Bahamas are just crawling out of the Third World camp, which means that anyone with money who needs to see a doctor or visit a hospital is going to be booking a flight to Miami or Fort Lauderdale.  Assuming a couple retires at age 55 and one becomes chronically ill at age 75, thus requiring a move closer to medical facilities, the maximum amount of time that any fancy house can be occupied is approximately twenty years.

What if you want to rent a nice house on an Out Island?  We didn’t meet anyone who paid more than $2000 per week even for the nicest houses in the most desirable locations.  That’s a lot cheaper than paying 1% property tax on a $4.5 million house.

What do Bahamians do?  Most of them flee the out islands for the career and social opportunities of Nassau and Freeport.  What about the handful who remain in these quiet corners of the country? Only a few blocks from where old white guys have paid $4 million, they live in ramshackle concrete places with chickens running in the yard.  Mostly they probably laugh at the Americans who are keeping their economy and government running.  When an expat-priced house changes hands, approximately 20 percent of the price is paid in “stamp tax”, legal fees, title fees, and real estate commission.  When the expat gets too old and sick to stray from the hospitals in Fort Lauderdale, the Bahamians will make another 20 percent from the next owner.

[Astute readers may notice that I myself am an old, fat, white guy.  Have I been tempted to put down roots here on a Bahamas out island?  The answer is “no”.  People are friendly, the beach is lovely, the snorkeling is interesting, and Internet service seems to be fast, reliable, and widely available.  On the other hand, it is hot and humid for most of the year and fresh fruit and vegetables are pretty much unavailable at any price.]

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Now we all get to invest in the real estate bubble

Even here on Eleuthera (Bahamas), there is plenty of news about various taxpayer-funded schemes for bailing out subprime borrowers and lenders.  All of them have one thing in common:  they will be paid for from general tax revenue.

Imagine you bought your house in the early 1990s.  You wanted to move in the early 2000s, but decided that a 100-year-old decrepit wooden shack wasn’t worth $1 million.  So you sat in your old house and put your money in productive investments, such as the common stocks of businesses.  You watched some of your neighbors go crazy with real estate greed, many of them making a lot of money, until some were left holding a 100-year-old decrepit wooden shack at $2 million and there were no more “greater fools.”  You didn’t make any money in the real estate bubble, but at least you didn’t have to put any funds in and you didn’t lose any money either.

Fast forward to 2008.  Governments at various levels have decided that they have to bail out people who spent more than the houses turned out to be worth and the financial companies who weren’t wise enough to notice that the U.S. is in fact not short of forests that can be cut down for more sprawl.  Where will the money come from?  You, me, and everyone else who did not participate in the bubble.

So… we missed buying real estate with a lot of leverage back in 2000 and missed the big ride up through 2004 or whenever.  Now we get to buy that same real estate at a much higher price and without any upside at all since we won’t actually own any of it.

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Using English courts to suppress American books on terrorism

Here is an interesting New York Post story about how guys accused of funding terrorism are using the courts in England to shut down writers over there and, to some extent, here in the U.S.  It is an interesting reminder of how freedom of speech is a rare phenomenon outside the U.S.  Writers in England have to worry about being sued.  Writers in Europe, for most of the last 1000 years, had to worry about what the king or queen would think, and, more recently, about whether or not what they are saying will get them killed by their Muslim neighbors (look up “Ayaan Hirsi Ali” and “Theo van Gogh”).

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Boston to Bahamas and back in a Cirrus SR20 (boring diary)

Friday, February 15: depart BED at 1 pm.  The Cirrus was fresh from annual inspection, but naturally as soon as the plane came back from Groton, CT (warranty service center), an airworthiness directive arrived in the mail (aileron rigging) and the center fuel drain sprouted a leak.  Adam Harris and the East Coast Aero Club mechanics were kind enough to fix the leak and we don’t have to comply with the AD for another few weeks.

Wind at BED was gusting 25 knots from 270, making a runway 29 departure simple and quick.  We climbed over a layer of scattered clouds and settled in at 6500′ with smooth air, but a 50 knot wind from 290, reducing our ground speed to about 120 knots.  New York gave us a Class Bravo clearance direct TEB at 3500.  We descended with some steep turns through a hole in what had become a broken layer.

The wind at TEB was from 290 at 11 gusting 20, but they were landing 24 and departing 19, so they gave us 19.  There was a big updraft in the last 1/2 mile of the approach, then the direct gusty crosswind near the ground.  We touched the right main wheel first, then the left, then kept moving down the runway to Jet Aviation.  We hopped out, they grabbed our bags, and within 15 minutes of landing we were in the back of a black SUV (preferred vehicle of celebrity criminals) heading for the Lincoln tunnel and the London NYC hotel on W 54th St.

Excellent suite for $340/night.

Attended a Jazz at Lincoln Center concert, which is always held in the Time Warner shopping mall on Columbus Circle, i.e., not at Lincoln Center.  Wynton Marsalis led the orchestra for an evening of Duke Ellington.  I was happy to see Wessell Anderson.  At a reception afterwards, I asked Marsalis how he was able to wear a wool suit and remain cool at the Newport Jazz Festival in 2006.  It was over 90 degrees out and everyone else was sweating in T-shirts.  He said, “I’m from New Orleans.”  Wes Anderson said that he didn’t mind having moved from New York City, where he had lived his entire life, to Lansing Michigan, where he was now a music professor.

Saturday morning breakfast at Rue 57, corner of 57th and 6th, then a gallery showing flowers and cityscapes by Jane Freilicher ($40,000 for a 12×14″ canvas; $100,000+ for the larger oil paintings), then an exhibit of 40×50″ prints from 4×5 negatives by Katy Grannan (pudgy nude woman in various desolate locations around San Francisco; $11,000 per print).

With Terence and Anastasia, went to an afternoon performance of Tom Stoppard’s latest play, Rock N Roll.  This follows a young Czech academic and a middle-aged English Communist professor at Cambridge University from the 1968 invasion by the Soviets through the fall of Communism.  The main issue is the right to free speech and free expression, something Europeans have seldom enjoyed, I reflected.  In the old days, they couldn’t write freely for fear of being imprisoned by the king.  In the 20th century, half of Europe couldn’t express itself freely for fear of being imprisoned by a Communist government.  Today, the Europeans who express their opinions about Islam or Muslim immigration are liable to be killed by their Muslim neighbors, or at least be pushed into hiding (cf. Theo van Gogh and Ayaan Hirsi Ali in Holland).  Not the most relevant play for Americans.  Most of us can write or say what we like, though only those who have government jobs or who are in unions can do so without fear of losing their employment.

With Eero and Iris, went to a performance of Two Thousand Years, a play about a suburban non-observant Jewish family in London.  Their son had a brilliant start at university with a math degree, but for the seven years since he graduated, has been living at home.  Lately he has turned to orthodox Judaism and a lot of loud discussion ensues.  The playwright, Mike Leigh, is not an official Great like Stoppard, but the material is much more relevant to the average person, who will have some familiarity with family squabbles.

Dinner was at Taboon on 10th Avenue.

Sunday:  Avenue Q at 2 pm with Jesse and Kate, then early dinner at Uncle Nick’s on 9th Avenue between 50th and 51st (order 1 entree for every two people!).  Spent the evening with David and Patricia and their twins.  Visited the Apple Store on Central Park South and 5th Avenue, open 24 hours/day, to play with the Macbook Air (remarkably nice keyboard, and light, but how much does the power adaptor weigh?)

Monday (President’s Day): late breakfast at the London Bar; stylish, slow, empty, $70. Allstate, 212-333-3333, took us to Teterboro in a Toyota Camry Hybrid.

We timed our departure so as to miss most of the weather from a big cold front that had pushed through in the morning, leaving only lingering scattered showers. Moderate turbulence was forecast for the entire route down to Atlanta, along with 50-knot headwinds right on
the nose, but I figured it wouldn’t be that bad except in a storm cell and ATC would never vector me into one of those. Besides, I had the on-board XM radio NEXRAD data. The one thing that concerned me was that airliners had submitted pilot reports complaining of “severe
turbulence”, indicating that their airplanes were “impossible to control.”

We departed TEB with one portion of the sky looking ugly. The green (light rain), yellow, red (heavy rain), and purple (double secret severe rain) bands of the NEXRAD weather on the multifunction display were at least 15 miles west. As soon as I was switched to New York Approach, they gave me a vector straight into the line of severe weather. I thought “this won’t be bad because we’re still quite far from the actual rain”. A few seconds later, we entered a cloud, were pelted with some rain, and the airplane began getting tossed around.

I was able to keep the airplane right-side up, but embraced in a powerful updraft, I could not keep the Cirrus from climbing. We blasted right through our assigned altitude of 5000′. I cut the power to idle, nosed down for the maneuvering speed of 130 knots (maximum in turbulence), but still we climbed at 1000′ per minute to 6000′.

Eventually, Air Traffic Control vectored us out of the weather and down the coast. We were doing a miserable 100 knots over the ground, shaved down from 155 knots through the air. We stopped for fuel at KPTB, just south of Richmond, and landed in a 30-knot gusty crosswind. Just before we touched down, a gust lifted the airplane back up 20′. We were filled up with $3.95 100LL (it had been nearly $8/gallon in Teterboro). Did we want to borrow the crew car and go to a nearby restaurant? Thanks, but with the headwinds we needed to press onwards. We flew in the dark to KPDK, in the northern suburbs of Atlanta. The wind was 270 at 11; the tower was using runway 20. Another crosswind landing.

Signature guy from Yonkers said that he liked Atlanta because salaries were higher than in NYC and the cost of real estate was much lower. He warned us not to take MARTA, saying that we would be accosted by an insane person. We took MARTA. We were accosted by an insane woman.

Dinner with Ellis Vener, talking about scripting Photoshop. Checked into the Embassy Suites, across from the Aquarium.

Tuesday:  Arrived at the Georgia Aquarium just after its 10:00 am opening.  The place was moderately crowded despite the $27/person ticket price.  The aquarium was funded with a $250 million gift from Bernie Marcus, founder of Home Depot.  The architects are proud of the
fact that, rather than requiring visitors to follow one long route, it is set up like a shopping mall.  A central atrium contains a cafeteria and each section is entered from this atrium.  The big attractions are Beluga Whales (one died so far) and Whale Sharks (two died so far). There are a lot of places to sit up against the glass, or for kids to stand at a greater height.  The aquarium lacks the architectural magnificence of Chattanooga’s Tennessee State Aquarium, but probably
it is more functional.

We walked through the Olympic park where the 1996 pipe bomb exploded, killing one woman and injuring more than 100 people.  Just after leaving the park, we were befriended by a graduate of the City of Cambridge’s Rindge and Latin High School, the most lavishly funded public school in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.  His education sufficed for him to give us good directions to the subway. Unfortunately, the taxpayers of Cambridge did not set him up too well for a career.  He is homeless and earns most of his income from panhandling.

Four stops north on the MARTA was the High Museum of Art.  The 1983 building, desired by Richard Meier, has been supplemented by a huge 2005 addition by Renzo Piano.  The Renzo Piano building is much less interesting inside, with less natural light.  It is so boring and boxy
that one wonders why they needed a world famous architect to design it.  Arguably the big spaces work better for huge contemporary paintings than did Meier’s more broken-up spaces, but they could have saved themselves $163 million by displaying the huge pieces in an
abandoned Best Buy or Home Depot (cf. MoMA Queens).  Tickets are $18/head and the downstairs cafe serves food very similar to what you might find in a “grab and go” airport kiosk.

Played with Ellis’s Nikon D3.  The interface seems more functional than on the Canon digital SLRs.  There are more dedicated buttons and switches, e.g., to change autofocus mode you turn a switch on the Nikon whereas on the Canon you would press a button, look at the LCD display, and turn a multifunction dial.

MARTA back to the Embassy Suites, dinner of steak drenched in butter at Ruth’s Chris in the lobby, exercise in the gym in a vain attempt to burn off the fat.

Wednesday:  Blissfully uneventful VFR flight from Atlanta (PDK) to St. Augustine, Florida, arriving on time(!) for lunch with Andres and Henry, conversation revolving around very light jets, Robinson helicopters, the Silver State Helicopters bankruptcy.  Departed St. Augustine around 3:45 pm for Naples, Florida, mostly VFR at 6500′ through some occasional very light rain showers and then a pop-down IFR clearance to get through a broken layer down to the runway at Naples at 5:30 pm.  Eero picked us up and we all went down to the beach to watch the pelicans fishing at sunset.

Getting a dinner table for 9 people, including 3 children, turned out to be almost impossible on a Wednesday evening in Naples.  Most of the restaurants were quoting 1.5-2 hour waits.  We eventually got in at Ridgeway’s.  Mika’s old teacher, Ilana, gave us a lift to the “Naples Airport La Quinta” where we had booked an “Internet equipped non-smoking room”.  The hotel was in a ghetto area near the Interstate, vastly farther from the airport than any of the downtown Naples hotels.  The Internet didn’t work.  The room smelled of cigarette smoke.

Thursday, February 21:  Prepared the airplane for extended overwater operations by (1) moving life jackets from pockets behind the front seats to the footwells underneath the front seats, (2) purchasing some gallon jugs of water and emptying them out to provide flotation for a mesh bag holding the EPIRB and some flares, (3) tieing the life raft to the mesh bag.  Called Flight Service to file an international VFR flight plan and get a briefing.  Due to some heavy rain showers and turbulence, they noted that there was a Center Weather Advisory and that “VFR flight is not recommended” (though in fact as we demonstrated coming out of Teterboro, it is IFR flight that is

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The cure for damage done by low interest rates? Lower interest rates.

17th in a series of Economics for Cavemen (and women)…

The U.S. economy is in a tough spot right now.  Historically low rates of interest in the early part of the decade generated the biggest housing bubble in the history of the nation.  We didn’t notice all of the inflation that was generated by these low interest rates because Chinese labor was essentially free and unlimited.  We weren’t paying higher prices for manufactured goods.  The fact that labor costs in the U.S. were going up and real estate prices were skyrocketing didn’t strike folks as “core inflation.”

Gasoline, real estate, airline tickets, college educations, hotel rooms, meals at decent restaurants.  These things are vastly more expensive than they were just a few years ago.  Fortunately, these aren’t major expenses for the average American, at least according to the Consumer Price Index, which seems to be set up with a basket of the following goods:  DVD player, kitchen sink sponge, 5 lb. bag of potatoes, 2 lb. bag of carrots, made-in-China T-shirt.  Inflation is low; it is only the cost of stuff that you might actually want to buy that has gone up.

We read in the newspaper accounts of the debates of learned economists.  They disagree to some extent about how to keep the U.S. from sinking into a depression.  What can they all agree on?  The cure is to lower interest rates and print more money….

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