Somebody save me a Summit and a coney.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Bullwinkle's To Reopen
Somebody save me a Summit and a coney.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Cape Kennedy Museum Stop
The photo of the rocket garden above (with the massive Saturn V engine in the middle) was the best part of the trip, and within that area, there we two things that had me awed. The first being the Saturn V itself. Massive in size, it is breathtaking to see how small the capsule is in comparison to the rest of the vehicle. Literally, it's 95% fuel and engines. Here's a shot of about the top 2/3 of the vehicle:
The other thing that had me awed was the walkway that was used for Apollo 11. To walk across the same path as those brave pioneers to the awaiting capsule made me feel part of history. Kudos to the curators for saving such a unique piece of our history:
The bad news on all of this is that the Cape's museum is in bad disrepair. It is not run by the government, and there were parts that were quite embarrassing. Here's a shot of a close up of the Saturn V capsule and escape rocket with rust (rust!) quite noticeable at the bottom:
For something that should have been such a great source of national pride, I came away from my experience there with some sheepish embarrassment. What a horrible shame.
As we closed out our trip, I was able to catch a shot of some hot air balloons that were launching in our area. While the other end of the aeronautical spectrum, they inspired awe in their own respect. It was a nice way to close out a fun and productive trip.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
The Paradox of Faith
Last night I found out that a woman I used to work with lost her college freshman daughter in a horrific car accident. News on the accident can be found here.
It is events like this that call into question faith for me. How does one recover emotionally from something as tragic as this? How do you even get to your next breath, let alone live productively?
And the only answer I can come up with is faith.
In a situation like this, the very thing one doubts the most is about the only lifeline one has out of it.
My God bless the families of all involved.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Thoughts on My Mom on Her 70th Birthday
Every Sunday before mass when I come into church, genuflect, lower the kneeler and pray, I always spend the time reflecting on my past week. I start with remembering where I have failed and where I could have done better, and move off to sincere gratitude of the blessings that have been set before me. It's my way to get my mind right for the upcoming ceremony.
Yesterday, as I kneeled there and considered my blessings, I was deeply struck that my greatest blessing was the woman kneeling there at my left.
My Mom has shaped me far more than she knows. Her appreciation for education, work, intelligence, grace and humor have set an example for me throughout my life that continues to this day. I simply would be a very different person today if not for this incredible woman.
So on the date of your 70th birthday, all I can say is thank you, Mom. For everything.
Literally.
I have indeed been deeply blessed.
Yesterday, as I kneeled there and considered my blessings, I was deeply struck that my greatest blessing was the woman kneeling there at my left.
My Mom has shaped me far more than she knows. Her appreciation for education, work, intelligence, grace and humor have set an example for me throughout my life that continues to this day. I simply would be a very different person today if not for this incredible woman.
So on the date of your 70th birthday, all I can say is thank you, Mom. For everything.
Literally.
I have indeed been deeply blessed.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Saturday, February 18, 2012
A Real Hero
How many times do we consider our heroes to be the person on the field that makes that great play or musician on the stage that performs magic? Too often, especially in light of people that toil in the shadows, doing life-changing work, that has the potential to drastically change how we live.
Recently, the StarTribune shined a light into one of those shadows, and highlighted Dr. Karen Ashe at the University of Minnesota.
I encourage you to read the whole article
Recently, the StarTribune shined a light into one of those shadows, and highlighted Dr. Karen Ashe at the University of Minnesota.
I encourage you to read the whole article
Friday, February 17, 2012
A Dog Named Blitz - Chapter Seven "Third Year: Part 1"
For background on this serial, please click here. You can also start at the previous section
By now it was very clear to me that Blitz was a special dog. I had seen enough in my hunting with her to know that her drive and her nose were among the finest I had hunted behind. Likewise, I had received enough compliments from others with whom we had hunted to know that these weren’t just niceties – these were true words of praise for some really great dog work. I was a proud owner of an incredible dog, but a little kernel of something stuck in the back of my mind – just exactly how good was she?
That little nugget of an idea was first put there by my buddy Don, who had hunted behind Blitz many times; both at my farm, and out at his game farm. Don had done a lot of hunting in his time, and was quite complimentary of Blitz every time we went out. As a member of a prestigious hunt club in the Twin Cities, Don had participated in a hunting dog competition as a designated shooter on a couple of occasions. He commented that Blitz would do fantastic in such an event, and I should go out and give it a try.
After a couple of months of thinking about it and wondering just how good Blitz was, I become stirred enough to get her enrolled. I’d now see just how good she truly was in these competitive environs. The competition itself was held at the ritzy gun club, and attracted dogs and handlers from all over the country. The rules were fairly straightforward, or so I thought. A large field was set with 4 birds for one dog and two hunters. Each hunter had six shells with which to harvest the birds. The hunt was timed, and had a 20 minute time limit. The objective was to bag the four birds as quickly as possible and in as few shots as possible, as the time of the "run" was reduced for each unspent shell. The concept seemed easy enough, and with Blitz’s nose and drive, I figured we had a OK chance. At a bear minimum, we’d at least have a nice 20 minute hunt.
I signed Blitz and I up for the “novice” flight, and waited for the appointed weekend. While Don was unavailable to be my additional hunter, my buddy Fuzzy was a available, and I felt like he was a great choice to fill out our little team. Not only had he had quite a bit of experience hunting with Blitz, but he was also an extremely good wing shot. I was confident that if Blitz got us the point, Fuzzy would be able to drop the bird in one and would afford us a great chance to return back with unspent ammunition.
On the day of the event we met at the club, and the day itself could not have been better. The sun was coming up warm on the spring morning, and there was just a slight wind and plenty of moisture on the ground to aid in scenting. It looked like a morning for greatness, and I was really excited to see what would happen. I placed Blitz on a lead, grabbed my gun case, and walked with Fuzzy to our field with great anticipation. As it turned out, we would be one of the first groups to run that day (they had flights running the previous day), so we wouldn’t have to wait too long to get out there and get after it.
To keep things fair, the judges asked that competitors wait their turn behind a stack of hay bales so as not to see where judges were placing birds, and we were happy to wait with a group of other hunters and dogs. Blitz was her usual self – straining hard against the lead to meet all the nice other people and dogs. Ears back and tail wagging, she epitomized friendliness in a body language that every hunter and hunting dog understood. While many of the dogs in our group were receptive to her welcoming overtures, the same could not be said by some of the stern-faced handlers, who seemed to be taking things far too seriously. Especially for a group competing in the “novice” flight.
Thankfully we didn’t need to tolerate the posing and scowling too long as our name was soon called for us to come up to the line for our hunt. We’d be joined on our hunt by a judge whose job it was to ensure that the dog was flushing the birds and bringing them back to hand appropriately, and to keep an eye on Fuzzy and me to ensure we didn’t do anything illegal, although I’m not really sure what we could have done.
We entered the starting area, were counted down, and were finally released for our hunt. Game on!
Almost immediately Blitz, quartering hard toward Fuzzy at my right, appeared to catch scent of a bird and had her nose down and tail flailing like crazy. After about a 20 yard dash she came to a dead stop on point and was clearly on a bird. Fuzzy moved in behind her to make the shot, and just thirty seconds into the hunt it appeared that we were going to bag our first bird. Fuzzy was poised and ready, and I gave Blitz the command to “GET HIM!” She moved forward and immediately a rooster pheasant burst into the sky mere feet from her nose, on a straightaway shot for Fuzzy.
As stated earlier, Fuzzy is an excellent wing shot. He’s hunted his entire life and honed his craft well. But like all shooters, he has some shots that are easier than others. And for Fuzzy, there was no easier shot than the “ass shot” on a straightaway bird. It’s his dead-red fastball right down the middle of the plate, and woe to the pheasant that presents it to him. In fact, given the alignment of the bird and my buddy, I was actually grinning when the bird got up.
BANG.
Nothing. The bird was still flying. What happened?
BANG! Nothing again.
I raised my gun for a backup shot that I could not believe would be needed.
BANG! Fuzzy encountered his third miss and now held an empty gun.
Here we were, three shells spent and nothing to show for it. I gauged a lead on the quickly departing quarry, squeezed the trigger, and folded the bird. Blitz was in pursuit for the retrieve when I shot a nasty look to Fuzzy. “What the hell was that?” “Hey, I choked,” was all he could truthfully reply.
We now had three more birds in the field but very limited ammunition. Our next shots needed to be true, and we really needed Blitz to point and hold that point to allow us to get in the best positions for bagging the bird. We moved up another forty yards and Blitz quickly caught another scent. After working the air with her nose and dashing in front of me she quickly locked up again. A quick flush and one shell spent got us back in better graces.
We worked our 5 acre field quickly and purposefully, with Blitz covering huge chunks of territory, and Fuzzy and I shooting well. While it felt like we had been hunting a long time, when Blitz finally brought our fourth and final bird back to my had, our judge yelled out, “TIME!8:32 !” I was thrilled! What a great performance, especially when one considered that many of the dogs running the trial had not found all five of their birds in the 20 minute time limit.
I was grinning as I put Blitz back on lead and walked with Fuzzy and our judge back to the start. “How did we do?” Fuzzy inquired of our field judge. “Not bad,” the field judge replied, “But you guys wasted time at the start when she pinned the gate bird. One of you should have been moving out and getting ready for the flank bird.” “What?” I asked. “What’s a gate bird?”
“Haven’t you guys done this before?” he replied. I answered that this was our first time.
“You have to be kidding,” he said. “You see, there are set bird areas, and I figured you guys just knew but were jacking around. You’ve really never run this before?”
“No. I mean it is the ‘novice’ flight, right?”
“Bah. Nearly every one of these dogs out here has run this kind of competition multiple times.”
“So, is8:32 good?”
“Hell yes, especially if this is your first time out.”
“Think we’ll be in the running?”
“Nope. Not at all. Winner will come in with something well under five minutes.”
I must have look dejected, because he immediately followed that with “Hey, you have an incredible dog there. I’ve not seen her equal when it comes to nose. Seriously. You should be very proud. If you choose to really get into this, she could be awesome.” I replied that we were hunters, not competitors, and that I was satisfied with our first time out and getting an indication of where she stood.
We all shook hands and Fuzzy and I headed back to the truck. Once there, I got out a bowl of water for Blitz as we discussed the whole new experience. We both agreed that it was a fun, but given the rules and attitudes we encountered, we’d probably stick with the straight hunting.
We hit a lull in the conversation and stood there in silence, watching Blitz finish her water. We were both feeling the pressure of the elephant in the room. It was uncomfortable - even oppressive - and I finally needed to address it. I blurted out, “Dude, seriously, what the hell was that back there on the first bird?” “I told you, I choked," Fuzzy honestly and sheepishly replied
What can a guy say to that? Not much, although every once and a while when I have been in the field with him since where he’s made his favorite shot, I remind Fuzzy of a pretty spring morning, a beautiful rooster pheasant, a pressure-filled moment, and three full charges of Federal’s finest upland ammunition touching nothing but the gorgeous blue sky.
By now it was very clear to me that Blitz was a special dog. I had seen enough in my hunting with her to know that her drive and her nose were among the finest I had hunted behind. Likewise, I had received enough compliments from others with whom we had hunted to know that these weren’t just niceties – these were true words of praise for some really great dog work. I was a proud owner of an incredible dog, but a little kernel of something stuck in the back of my mind – just exactly how good was she?
That little nugget of an idea was first put there by my buddy Don, who had hunted behind Blitz many times; both at my farm, and out at his game farm. Don had done a lot of hunting in his time, and was quite complimentary of Blitz every time we went out. As a member of a prestigious hunt club in the Twin Cities, Don had participated in a hunting dog competition as a designated shooter on a couple of occasions. He commented that Blitz would do fantastic in such an event, and I should go out and give it a try.
After a couple of months of thinking about it and wondering just how good Blitz was, I become stirred enough to get her enrolled. I’d now see just how good she truly was in these competitive environs. The competition itself was held at the ritzy gun club, and attracted dogs and handlers from all over the country. The rules were fairly straightforward, or so I thought. A large field was set with 4 birds for one dog and two hunters. Each hunter had six shells with which to harvest the birds. The hunt was timed, and had a 20 minute time limit. The objective was to bag the four birds as quickly as possible and in as few shots as possible, as the time of the "run" was reduced for each unspent shell. The concept seemed easy enough, and with Blitz’s nose and drive, I figured we had a OK chance. At a bear minimum, we’d at least have a nice 20 minute hunt.
I signed Blitz and I up for the “novice” flight, and waited for the appointed weekend. While Don was unavailable to be my additional hunter, my buddy Fuzzy was a available, and I felt like he was a great choice to fill out our little team. Not only had he had quite a bit of experience hunting with Blitz, but he was also an extremely good wing shot. I was confident that if Blitz got us the point, Fuzzy would be able to drop the bird in one and would afford us a great chance to return back with unspent ammunition.
On the day of the event we met at the club, and the day itself could not have been better. The sun was coming up warm on the spring morning, and there was just a slight wind and plenty of moisture on the ground to aid in scenting. It looked like a morning for greatness, and I was really excited to see what would happen. I placed Blitz on a lead, grabbed my gun case, and walked with Fuzzy to our field with great anticipation. As it turned out, we would be one of the first groups to run that day (they had flights running the previous day), so we wouldn’t have to wait too long to get out there and get after it.
To keep things fair, the judges asked that competitors wait their turn behind a stack of hay bales so as not to see where judges were placing birds, and we were happy to wait with a group of other hunters and dogs. Blitz was her usual self – straining hard against the lead to meet all the nice other people and dogs. Ears back and tail wagging, she epitomized friendliness in a body language that every hunter and hunting dog understood. While many of the dogs in our group were receptive to her welcoming overtures, the same could not be said by some of the stern-faced handlers, who seemed to be taking things far too seriously. Especially for a group competing in the “novice” flight.
Thankfully we didn’t need to tolerate the posing and scowling too long as our name was soon called for us to come up to the line for our hunt. We’d be joined on our hunt by a judge whose job it was to ensure that the dog was flushing the birds and bringing them back to hand appropriately, and to keep an eye on Fuzzy and me to ensure we didn’t do anything illegal, although I’m not really sure what we could have done.
We entered the starting area, were counted down, and were finally released for our hunt. Game on!
Almost immediately Blitz, quartering hard toward Fuzzy at my right, appeared to catch scent of a bird and had her nose down and tail flailing like crazy. After about a 20 yard dash she came to a dead stop on point and was clearly on a bird. Fuzzy moved in behind her to make the shot, and just thirty seconds into the hunt it appeared that we were going to bag our first bird. Fuzzy was poised and ready, and I gave Blitz the command to “
As stated earlier, Fuzzy is an excellent wing shot. He’s hunted his entire life and honed his craft well. But like all shooters, he has some shots that are easier than others. And for Fuzzy, there was no easier shot than the “ass shot” on a straightaway bird. It’s his dead-red fastball right down the middle of the plate, and woe to the pheasant that presents it to him. In fact, given the alignment of the bird and my buddy, I was actually grinning when the bird got up.
BANG.
Nothing. The bird was still flying. What happened?
BANG! Nothing again.
I raised my gun for a backup shot that I could not believe would be needed.
BANG! Fuzzy encountered his third miss and now held an empty gun.
Here we were, three shells spent and nothing to show for it. I gauged a lead on the quickly departing quarry, squeezed the trigger, and folded the bird. Blitz was in pursuit for the retrieve when I shot a nasty look to Fuzzy. “What the hell was that?” “Hey, I choked,” was all he could truthfully reply.
We now had three more birds in the field but very limited ammunition. Our next shots needed to be true, and we really needed Blitz to point and hold that point to allow us to get in the best positions for bagging the bird. We moved up another forty yards and Blitz quickly caught another scent. After working the air with her nose and dashing in front of me she quickly locked up again. A quick flush and one shell spent got us back in better graces.
We worked our 5 acre field quickly and purposefully, with Blitz covering huge chunks of territory, and Fuzzy and I shooting well. While it felt like we had been hunting a long time, when Blitz finally brought our fourth and final bird back to my had, our judge yelled out, “TIME!
I was grinning as I put Blitz back on lead and walked with Fuzzy and our judge back to the start. “How did we do?” Fuzzy inquired of our field judge. “Not bad,” the field judge replied, “But you guys wasted time at the start when she pinned the gate bird. One of you should have been moving out and getting ready for the flank bird.” “What?” I asked. “What’s a gate bird?”
“Haven’t you guys done this before?” he replied. I answered that this was our first time.
“You have to be kidding,” he said. “You see, there are set bird areas, and I figured you guys just knew but were jacking around. You’ve really never run this before?”
“No. I mean it is the ‘novice’ flight, right?”
“Bah. Nearly every one of these dogs out here has run this kind of competition multiple times.”
“So, is
“Hell yes, especially if this is your first time out.”
“Think we’ll be in the running?”
“Nope. Not at all. Winner will come in with something well under five minutes.”
I must have look dejected, because he immediately followed that with “Hey, you have an incredible dog there. I’ve not seen her equal when it comes to nose. Seriously. You should be very proud. If you choose to really get into this, she could be awesome.” I replied that we were hunters, not competitors, and that I was satisfied with our first time out and getting an indication of where she stood.
We all shook hands and Fuzzy and I headed back to the truck. Once there, I got out a bowl of water for Blitz as we discussed the whole new experience. We both agreed that it was a fun, but given the rules and attitudes we encountered, we’d probably stick with the straight hunting.
We hit a lull in the conversation and stood there in silence, watching Blitz finish her water. We were both feeling the pressure of the elephant in the room. It was uncomfortable - even oppressive - and I finally needed to address it. I blurted out, “Dude, seriously, what the hell was that back there on the first bird?” “I told you, I choked," Fuzzy honestly and sheepishly replied
What can a guy say to that? Not much, although every once and a while when I have been in the field with him since where he’s made his favorite shot, I remind Fuzzy of a pretty spring morning, a beautiful rooster pheasant, a pressure-filled moment, and three full charges of Federal’s finest upland ammunition touching nothing but the gorgeous blue sky.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Delta Replies
Thank you for writing about your recent flight experience. On behalf of
Delta Air Lines, we sincerely apologize for the inconvenience caused to
you and your wife when our flight was canceled and your dissatisfaction
with the alternate flight provided.
I understand the frustration you experienced when your plans were
disrupted due to the cancellation of our flight for mechanical reasons.
I am truly sorry your travel was adversely affected when you and your
wife were not provided with an alternate flight the same day when your
flight was canceled.
We know travelers need an airline they can count on, and I recognize how upsetting it is when plans are disrupted as you reached your destination later than planned.
Also, I am truly sorry for your disappointment with the alternate
arrangements provided during a flight irregularity. I also recognize
your decision to drive from Minneapolis to Green Bay was the best
alternative for you at the time since you had business meetings
scheduled. Be assured our goal is to route you to your destination in
the timeliest manner possible and your comments regarding lack of
communication, rebooking assistance, and the overall handling of your
disrupted travel have received close attention.
Further, I am sorry to learn that the staff at the check-in counter was
inadequate to cater to the passengers whose flight was cancelled. Our
goal is to assist passengers in the timeliest manner possible, and I
apologize, again, that your experience was to the contrary. Feedback
like yours will help us to improve our processes and overall customer
experience. Be assured your comments will be shared with our Airport
Customer Service leadership team for their internal follow up.
Additionally, we appreciate your kind comments regarding the service
received from one of our team members who was working at the boarding gate and the Pilot onboard. We believe our employees are our most important assets, and I am happy to learn that our agent exceeded your expectations.
Please know I will be sharing your comments with our Flight Operations
leadership team so this pilot receives appropriate recognition, on your
behalf. Thank you for sharing your thoughtful remarks.
In conclusion, as a gesture of apology for the experience you and your
wife encountered with your travel, I have added 7,500 bonus miles to
each passenger's SkyMiles account. Please allow three business days for the miles to appear.
Mr. X, as a Silver Medallion, I appreciate your loyalty to Delta.
Once again, please accept our apology for the circumstances you
described. Your business is important to us and given the opportunity
of serving you in the future, I am confident Delta will not only meet
but exceed your expectations.
* * * * *
The miles are lousy compensation for a horrible experience. However, this apology is just so well written that it makes it hard for me not to accept it.
Delta Air Lines, we sincerely apologize for the inconvenience caused to
you and your wife when our flight was canceled and your dissatisfaction
with the alternate flight provided.
I understand the frustration you experienced when your plans were
disrupted due to the cancellation of our flight for mechanical reasons.
I am truly sorry your travel was adversely affected when you and your
wife were not provided with an alternate flight the same day when your
flight was canceled.
We know travelers need an airline they can count on, and I recognize how upsetting it is when plans are disrupted as you reached your destination later than planned.
Also, I am truly sorry for your disappointment with the alternate
arrangements provided during a flight irregularity. I also recognize
your decision to drive from Minneapolis to Green Bay was the best
alternative for you at the time since you had business meetings
scheduled. Be assured our goal is to route you to your destination in
the timeliest manner possible and your comments regarding lack of
communication, rebooking assistance, and the overall handling of your
disrupted travel have received close attention.
Further, I am sorry to learn that the staff at the check-in counter was
inadequate to cater to the passengers whose flight was cancelled. Our
goal is to assist passengers in the timeliest manner possible, and I
apologize, again, that your experience was to the contrary. Feedback
like yours will help us to improve our processes and overall customer
experience. Be assured your comments will be shared with our Airport
Customer Service leadership team for their internal follow up.
Additionally, we appreciate your kind comments regarding the service
received from one of our team members who was working at the boarding gate and the Pilot onboard. We believe our employees are our most important assets, and I am happy to learn that our agent exceeded your expectations.
Please know I will be sharing your comments with our Flight Operations
leadership team so this pilot receives appropriate recognition, on your
behalf. Thank you for sharing your thoughtful remarks.
In conclusion, as a gesture of apology for the experience you and your
wife encountered with your travel, I have added 7,500 bonus miles to
each passenger's SkyMiles account. Please allow three business days for the miles to appear.
Mr. X, as a Silver Medallion, I appreciate your loyalty to Delta.
Once again, please accept our apology for the circumstances you
described. Your business is important to us and given the opportunity
of serving you in the future, I am confident Delta will not only meet
but exceed your expectations.
* * * * *
The miles are lousy compensation for a horrible experience. However, this apology is just so well written that it makes it hard for me not to accept it.
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