Recently I learned that I’m not alone.  The question of “why do you fly” seems to vex most pilots, even the airline guys, and as they hmmm and hah over the answer their interested inquisitor moves on to something else.

Quite simply, I think flying is an adventure.  An amazing adventure!  The sort of thing that turns boys in to men, and gives you a whole new perspective on life that you would never get otherwise.

My adventure started as a gift, from a young lady who recognized that I always had my head in the sky – my fascination with airplanes a quick distraction from even the most serious of conversations.   She knew I’d be hooked, and in the years since that day I first tasted flight, the adventure remains.

As a pilot, the world is smaller, your perspective is different.  The freedom to roam the earth, free of such nuisances as traffic jams, mountains, and roads that only go certain places…. it’s invigorating!  Want to explore Alaska on a four-day weekend?  Sure!  (I’ve done it!)  Travel across the state for a burger and make it home for 2pm coffee with your brother?  Yeah!

No two flight are ever the same.  On every flight, my skills (and confidence) are tested, stretched, and honed.  I learn new things about the weather, the airplane, and most importantly, myself.  Can I keep the airplane at exactly the altitude I want, the speed I want, and the bearing I need to get me to my destination?  And, can I pick that airport out of the haze on a summer afternoon… and that other airplane that ATC just told me about off my right wing?  And how is that cold front and it’s associated thunder storms going to affect my ability to make it home?

And at the end of the day, every successful flight is an atta-boy, a little success that makes us feel good about ourselves.  A conquering of earth and machine.  Gravity can’t stop us, and neither can traffic jams!

I fly because it’s fun.  I fly because it’s challenging.  I fly because it keeps me healthy.  I fly because the world is very big and I have a very short life in which to explore it.  I fly because it’s an adventure, and I want to share that adventure with others.  I want others to experience the world in a new way.

If you’ve ever dreamed of flying, drop everything and call your local flight school RIGHT NOW and schedule your first lesson.  You’ll be glad you did.

Gumbo Spirituality
By Father Anthony Hemphill
In the house of the just there are
ample resources. –Proverbs 15:6
In the South one of the favorite
dishes is called “gumbo.” Th e ingredients
are commodities that are available and
cheap. Some cost nothing more than
the patience of shrimping and crabbing.
Each family over the years developed
their own recipe and styles.
True spirituality has characteristics
of gumbo. It takes advantage of what
is commonplace and available. It takes
advantage of everyday events and
every event. It sees the extraordinary in
the ordinary. God is seen in all events.
Each person develops his or her special
style of spirituality as each cook has an
individual style of gumbo.
Th e saints knew how to use the
ordinary to grow in extraordinary
virtue. Th ey had the extraordinary gift
to see God in the ordinary.
Father, send us your Spirit to teach
us to use the ordinary to create the
extraordinary. Give us the wisdom to
see You in every event of our lives.

See from his head, his hands, his feet
Sorrow and love flow mingled down
Did ever such love and sorrow meet
Or thorns compose so rich a crown

O the wonderful cross, O the wonderful cross
Bids me come and die and find that I may truly live
O the wonderful cross, O the wonderful cross
All who gather here by grace draw near and bless
Your name

Were the whole realm of nature mine
That were an offering far too small
Love so amazing, so divine
Demands my soul, my life, my all

This year, Easter is a travel day for me.  I’m in Bourbonnais, Illinois right now and plan to be in Madison, Wisconsin in time for dinner with my grandparents.  I seem to spend lots of holidays on the road – in fact it’s practically an Olsen tradition – much to my mother’s despair.

Today I’m reminded of this song by Chris Tomlin -  the words are stuck in my head playing over and over as I ponder the idea of sacrifice.  Even though I’m on vacation, I am cutting visits to some of my dearest friends fairly short in order to make it back  to Lex for a meeting.  It’s a sacrifice I chose to make, but I now find myself wondering whether the sacrifice is really worth it.  It’s not a meeting I NEED to make, but it”s a meeting I WANT to make, so the choice was mine.

Life requires that we make tons of choices between needs and wants .  But all too often, the time we NEED to spend with people is trumped by the things we WANT to get accomplished.  I have a good friend who reminds me “people before projects.”  That phrase always leaves me torn.  If we devote ourselves to people, the projects never get done.  But if we sacrifice the people for the projects, do the projects really matter?  This world is a madly busy place, and I feel no small amount of despair when I find myself being sucked in.  A good friend an I have a running pipe dream about casting everything away and living the most simplistic lives imaginable.  Perhaps we’re not so far off in our thinking.

Anyways, to move abruptly back to the cross, today is Easter, the day we remember Christ’s sacrifice for our lives.  Remembering that sacrifice helps me to check my priorities.  Am I living a life that is worthy of the sacrifice made on the cross for me?

It’s not a guilt thing (guilt, which can be good,  is  also a tool Christians have used for years as a prime manipulator) rather, a perspective thing.  If I could step outside of myself for a moment and imagine a path set before me, and then further imagine my decisions and time spent as rocks thrown away from me, where do they land?  Do they fall anywhere near the path?   If not, how far to they stray?  It’s a odd illustration, but for me it works.  The beauty of the cross is that Christ really doesn’t care about the rocks that don’t land on the path, he just wants to make sure that I don’t toss so many rocks off that I create a new path.  So I don’t have to feel guilty about the rocks that miss, but if I zoomed-out Google Earth style, I’d at least like to be able to see where I’m going… and on which path.  And as anyone who has enrolled in one of my father’s chemistry courses can attest, my aim is notoriously poor.  Thanks dad…

Anyways, I saw a great concert last night in Chicago – the guy’s name is William Fitzsimmons.  I went to college with the guy, and now he’s a (really)  big-time folk singer.  Go William!  A few years back he went through a nasty divorce, and his music tells the story – the anger, guilt,  despair, and eventual forgiveness and moving on.  It’s powerful stuff, and it speaks particularly strongly to me as one who’s been through divorce myself.  William’s stated goal is to help people find healing through his music.  I dig that, and hope to hear a lot more from him.  He’s on tour right now, so if he’s in your area, spend the money and check him out.

http://www.williamfitzsimmons.com

Sunday’s plan was to point the car south down the Seward Highway and explore.  (If the weather crapped out, the backup plan was to go watch some dog sled races!)  The Seward (pronounced “Soo-ard”) is one of only two roads leading out of Anchorage.  It takes you south along the Cook Inlet (home of the worlds strongest tides)  onto the Kenai Peninsula (pronounced “keen-eye”) and eventually branches off to the towns of Seward, Homer, Kenai, Soldotna, and others.  It’s a beautiful drive, but a potentially treacherous one as avalanches are a common occurrence along the road.  During my drive I saw the remnants of several avalanches, a couple of which looked severe enough that they may have at some point covered the road.

My first stop was the Alyeska ski resort.  I’m not a skiier myself, but the setting was amazingly beautiful and an airplane mechanic at Lake Hood told me I could find some amazing soup at their restuaurant.  After the resort, I wandered around the area, following signs to the Girdwood airport which advertised helicopter flightseeing tours.  It’s really not much of an airport -  since everything is snow-covered, you could drive right past it and completely miss the place save for a couple of Piper SuperCubs practicing their landings – one plane on wheels, the other on skis.

On down the highway I found my way to Portage Glacier – or at least a frozen lake (Portage Lake) that you could walk out upon to take some pictures of the glacier.  The visitor center was closed for the winter, and I didn’t have any maps of the area, so at the time I really wasn’t sure exactly where I was going.  There was a ranger station just up the road, and I asked myself a couple of times if I should shop there.  In the end it didn’t really matter – the splendor of the place – as  pure, clean, and unmolested a place I’ve ever been was enough.  I’ll let the pictures do the talking when I put them up.. words fail me.

Along the way I stopped at every little tourist trap I could find – out of curiosity more than anything.  Honestly, I was still searching for that cup of soup, and by the time I finally found a restaurant that looked promising I needed to head back to Anchorage (not wanting to be out on the avalanche-prone Seward Highway after dark).  There was also an interesting looking nature boardwalk on the way back… it too was closed, though someone had crashed through the snowplow berm in front of it with their pickup truck to make a path.

Dinner was at a place in downtown Anchorage called Humpy’s  – highly recommended to me for their Halibut Burger, which was excellent.  I really wanted  to try wild Alaska salmon.  I really don’t like seafood, but I figured that since I was in Alaska, I might as well try… you just can’t get seafood like this in Kentucky!  But alas, the Halibut won out – for a couple of reasons (one  being the other items it was served with and the fact I’d be spending the next few hours on an airplane.  Good of me to think of my fellow passengers.)  And I finally got my soup – beer cheese and broccoli. Yum…

Frustratingly, Anchorage shuts down early on Sunday nights.  In retrospect it shouldn’t be surprising at all.  I’ve read that Alaska is the least religious state in the US, so a part of me had hoped businesses would keep the same hours all week long.  Not so.  I think I drove around for an hour trying to find an open coffee shop.  Breaking my “no chain restaurants when I travel” rule, I finally spotted a Barnes & Noble (open ’til 11!), grabbed a cup of coffee, studied various maps of Alaska, end eventually launched into a book about Alaskan bush pilots until it was time to head back to the airport for the 1:30am Alaska Airlines flight to Seattle.  I could have spent a forture there.  In Kentucky, I was frustrated at how little information the book stores had about Alaska.  The Anchorage B&N has an entire Alaska ROOM, stacked floor to ceiling with books and maps.

I do have pictures – bunches of them.  I’ll try to put them up soon.  But tomorrow it’s’ back to the grind.  Corporate America calls.  Ugh.

Before dinner, I spent the afternoon at Lake Hood, which bills itself as the world’s busiest seaplane base.  Lake Hood is unique in that, unlike airports in the rest of the country, one can drive around the airport grounds freely, in and amongst the airplanes.  (Airplanes get the right-of-way, of course).  Security is lax because people respect the planes.  Airplanes are the lifeblood of Alaska – you mess with the planes and someone in the bush doesn’t get their mail, or groceries.  It’s a good system, and in Alaska, it works.  However, this too could change.  Emilie has lived her whole life on Lake Hood, and two days ago the TSA came through and proposed a bunch of changes – to make Lake Hood resemble other airports in the lower 48.  That’s bad news, and Emilie’s prediction (and mine too) is that Lake Hood will suffer for it.  That’s a shame.

Yet Alaskans are optimistic.  Their distance from the lower 48 gives them a unique perspective on things.  They can see what works and fails before it gets to them.  They are optimistic because this perspective allows them to collectively fight the changes that will endanger their way of life.  My buddy from Moose Tooth loves Alaska, and still feels that Anchorage is the greatest city in the world.  Emilie still loves Lake Hood, and one day hopes to get her pilot’s license.

Tomorrow, weather permitting, will include a drive down the Seward highway to the Alyeska skit resort.  An airplane mechanic at Lake Hood told me to try and grab lunch at the Old Alyeska hotel, where, he says some excellent soup can be found.  Then it’s back to Anchorage to explore a bit more and probably find a coffee shop and bury my nose in a book.

I’ve taken a bunch of good pictures, and sadly I don’t have a way to upload them while I’m on the road.  Ah well.

After returning to Seattle mid-flight due to an electrical problem with the plane, my flight finally arrived in Anchorage at midnight. Though I wish I could see Alaska from the air during the daylight hours, the view was impressive enough.  I’ve read that Alaska nights really aren’t that dark (the moon is REALLY bright here) and sure enough, on the flight in, the mountains and all their majesty were in plain view, more beautiful than expected.

On the flights over, I had a couple of really neat seat-mates.  One was a business owner from Detroit who was meeting her husband in Seattle for a Microsoft meeting.  Her business is flourishing, a rare bright spot in generally dismal Detroit.  She and I had a fantastic conversation about business and leadership type of stuff.  On my Anchorage flight, I got to know a guy from Georgia.  He’d gone to Alaska a couple of times on vacation, and loved it so much that he sold everything he had and went to work on Alaska’s north slope oil fields.  He works 3-weeks on, 3-weeks off and is starting a trucking business (with a FedEx competitor) with his son in Tennessee.  The I-sold-everything-and-moved-to-Alaska story is a common one around here.  Alaska is like that – it draws people, on a whim, who would never have before considered living here.

Right now I’m sitting on the 14th floor of a high-rise hotel.  As a FedEx employee, I was upgraded to a corner suite!  My view out one window is of the Cook Inlet and the Anchorage Airport, out the other is downtown Anchorage with a mountain backdrop.  It’s 5 degrees right now and a marine layer just rolled in, but it’s been a sunny morning so far, and sun and 20-degrees are forecast for the rest of the short (sunrise 9am, sunset 5pm) day.  They don’t use much salt here, just sand, so most of the roads are snow-packed, making me extra grateful for the healthy dose of winter weather we’ve had in Kentucky.  Anchorage drivers for the most part are very conservative – it seems that no one dares go over the (relatively low) speed limits unless they have 4-wheel-drive.  Good thing.

I really hope to make this a relaxing trip, and I came with no agenda.  Alaska is so huge, and I have to avoid the temptation to frenzy myself trying to take it all in.  So I think this afternoon I’ll venture over to the aviation museum at the airport, and then brave the crowds at Moose Tooth’s for pizza.  There’s a Trader Joe’s-type market across the street that I’d like to check out too.

Right now at my house, I’m staring at about three inches of snow, with a nice layer of ice underneath it.  And loving every minute of it… because there’s something I must confess.  The storm is my fault. Yep – all mine.  I’ve actually been praying for snow for several weeks now, and I’m so excited that it’s finally here!  You see, in a few days I’ll be departing for Alaska, and even though I grew up in Wisconsin,  my winter driving skills are a bit rusty.  I’ll only be in Anchorage for a couple of days and the city should be fine,  yet a part of my plan includes a drive down the Seward Highway to Whittier.  (I’m told the drive is beautiful, but the Alaskans have a saying… “there’s nothing s***ttier than Whittier.”  What’s up with Whittier?)

While the highway should be passable, I’m told that Alaskans use the word “passable” rather loosely; the last thing I want is to be driving a rental car around Alaska in the dead of winter with zero recent driving experience.  Plus, the Seward closes a few times a year due to avalanches.   Sometimes when they re-open the road, there’s still plenty of snow left over.  So a part of today’s festivities included taking my little Civic out to find Lexington’s least plowed roads.  After about an hour of using the car as a glorified snowmobile, I once again feel confident in my winter driving skills.  I only got stuck once, and was able to rock my way out pretty quickly… dad taught me well.  I must admit though, I cheated a bit.  Jonda and I got a bit of a head start yesterday… we might have “accidentally” taken the FedEx truck through some snow banks.  Accidentally…

I plan to spend most of my time in Anchorage looking at airplanes, of course.  Really – what else would you do in the most aviation-friendly (not to mention dependent) part of the country??  ANC supposedly has a nice aviation museum, and, weather permitting, there’s a walking trail around the (now frozen) seaplane base on Lake Hood.  If anyone else has any great suggestions, let me know.  Moose Tooth’s is already on the list, as well as the drive to Whittier.  My return flight leaves at 1:30am, but the hotel kicks me out at noon – so I’ll be homeless for twelve hours.  Hopefully I can come up with something more original than a book at Starbucks to kill the extra time.

I just finished up a book called Looking for Alaska by Peter Jenkins.  It’s Jenkins’ story of spending a year traveling around Alaska.  I highly recommend it – especially if you’re trying to get psyched up about a trip to Alaska!  It also makes one appreciate the mild Kenucky winters (Jenkins live in Tennesee).  However, should I ever happen to move back north, I’ve decided I will aquiring a snomobile.

–

Analyzing sound in worship is easy because music is present
in the corporate praise of Christians the world over. Taste, another
sense used in Christian worship, is the focus of our study today.

Taste is an important part of our experience, and as such it is
often used metaphorically. For example, we can call unpleasant
sounds “sour notes” because, generally speaking, we do not like to
eat sour foods. Or, we might say that someone has a “sweet” disposition
because they are a joy to be around, and we are familiar with
the satisfaction that comes from foods sweet to the taste. Scripture
also uses taste analogically to teach doctrine and to help us develop
affection for the things we should love. For instance, David conveys
the pleasure found in the Lord by urging us, figuratively, to taste
God’s goodness for ourselves (Ps. 34:8).

Throughout history, our Father has used the taste buds to help
His people recall their salvation. For example, the Israelites ate bitter
herbs during Passover (Ex. 12:8) to recall the bitterness of their slavery before
the Lord saved them from Egypt (1:8-14). God chose the
Passover foods based on the things He wanted His people to learn.
Under the new covenant, the Lord’s Supper celebrates our salvation
in Christ, and the elements He used are the ones we must use
as well. Jesus consecrated bread and wine, not Coca-Cola and candy
(Matt.26:26-29). We will miss what God wants us to learn if we use
elements besides those Christ gave us.

As a staple food the world over, bread depicts God’s supply of our
needs. Moreover, Jesus is the “bread of life” (John 6:35). Eating bread
at His Table makes us see that we must feed on Christ spiritually to
meet our spiritual needs just as bread satiates our physical hunger.

Wine can have a bitter or sour taste. Yet the Lord gave it to ‘gladden
the heart” of man (Ps. 104:14-15), and so the drink is commonly
used in celebrations. Like wine, Good Friday was the bitterest of all
days, as Jesus endured the shame of the cross. Yet just as wine may
bring us joy, the salvation He purchased makes Good Friday the
most joyous of all days for God’s people.

–Tabletalk  June 14, 2007

Last weekend (Labor Day) we hopped up to Wisconsin for a VERY fast visit of family and friends.  But it was a good, much-needed visit, and I even got a surprise visit from a good friend who I haven’t seen since my wedding!  It seems like there is a lot going on with loved ones back home, so any time we’re able to spend is valuable.  I’ve forgotten how much I miss Madison and the people I’ve left behind there.  Maybe it’s just the memories that flood back, or all of the great food that I miss so much.  For certain, Madison is a place of progress.  Even though I’m conservative, I very much miss Madison’s off-the-charts liberal politics because it seems like things actually get accomplished there.  The city is clean, efficient, and diverse.   I like it.

This week was the annual wine trip – my seventh trip to the California wine country.  For the first time, Rob was able to join us and it was great to discover some great new places along the way and to re-visit some old haunts as well.  We spent a lot of time laughing this year… a lot of time.  It was great for both bonding, and the healing of wounded souls… and the pushing of one’s luck!  Laughing so hard you can’t see through your own tears… yah, that’s a bad time to be merging onto a California freeway.  I owe my guardian angel some overtime for that one!  A warped sense of humor is a terrible thing to waste.

Once we got out of the airport, the trip was great!  The weather was absolutely beautiful thanks to a persistant marine layer that kept the sun at bay.  Our flight got in early enough that we were able to spend an afternoon in San Francisco before we headed off for three days of wine tasting.  In San Fran was the obligatory fish ‘n chips on the wharf, and hike up Nob Hill.  The views are worth the hike, and there are a couple of great wine bars up there on Hyde street.  Evidently the people in the Nob Hill dristrict are serious about their food… where else would you find someone walking down the street (in a hurry mind you) with nothing but an artichoke in her hand?

By the way.. You want the magic trick to get wine out of clothing?  Salt!  Just rub some salt into the fabric before the wine dries, and it comes right out!  It’s even better when the salt is administered by the attactive Swiss woman who taught me that trick..

Unfortunately, this trip did nothing but heighten our disdain for the San Francisco airport.  A complete sellout meant waiting a hour and a half for a rental car… and a PT Cruiser at that.  Seriously, the entire rental car garage was EMPTY.  But Rob did a masterful job of holding the glove box on his lap after it fell out of the dashboard and that gave us a laugh.  Not funny was showing up at the airport on Friday only to find out that AirTran’s SFO are a bit confused as to the airline’s policies on checking wine as luggage and wouldn’t let it onto the plane.  After scrambling a bit, we were able to get the wine out of California, but it cost a lot of money and was not entirely legit.  I’ll leave it at that.  On the plus side, the flights were smooth!

If you’re not into wine, skip the next couple of paragrahs… becaue this is the part where I talk about the wime!  For the most part this year, the wines were fantastic.  Simi and St. Francis are still producing some of the best stuff in Sonoma, and Chappellet still rules in Napa.  Some of our favorite standbys were dissapointments this year though.  Siduri, Sebastiani, Ferrari-Carano and Limerick Lane all seemed a bit off this year.  Nothing offensive, just nothing to get excited about.  Perhaps our palates are changing?  Nevertheless, Kate took great care of us (as usual) at Siduri, and we did find a few great wines at those places.

Should you happen to wander into the northern regions of Sonoma County, I can highly recommend visits to Mosaic, Stryker and J.  Incredibly rich and complex wines (and Mosaic is small enough they can ship to Kentucky!)  If you’re visiting Napa… well, you have to visit the stuff on the valley floor if you’re a first timer.  But if you have time, or have been before, make the jaunt up Howell Mountain and make appointments at Burgess and Ladera.  Ladera’s pricey, but their Pinot’s and Cab’s are worth a try.  Burgess wines are also very nice, and they offer one of the best views of the valley and mountains.

The proposal was this: according to Darwin’s theory, the strong survive and the weak fall by the wayside. In first world society, what does this imply? Well, who are the strong? Those with means, right? Money, education, etc. So who are the weak? The poor – in money, skills, etc. OK… so no big deal, right? I mean, that just seems common sense. The strong in our society do well, and the weak don’t. Those are just the facts. But should this be? Is it REALLY ok? Most of us would say no – this is not ok. The weak need their advocate, justice, and a shot at the productive sort of lives that the strong enjoy. The weak have a right to succeed in our society too.

What I had never considered though is that because of the whole creation/evolution debate, we’ve succeeded in having Darwininsm taught in our schools. So to some degree, it’s engrained in us that not only do the strong survive, but the weak are disposable. In other words, if we can trample the weak to get ahead, well, that’s just the way it is, man. Few of us would admit it, but I wonder how many of us live this way without even realizing it. I know I have, which is why I hated my life so much when I worked in sales. I don’t have it in me to be a sales shark, and deep inside I felt I was violating something. A good sales month came with a certain measure of guilt.

It seems to me that reality should be exactly the opposite. Those of us with means and smarts should be the biggest helpers of the poor, using what we’ve been given to help them along so that we can all live the fulfilled lives that we’ve been created for. I hate that’s there’s such disparity between the rich and the poor, but it scares me even more that we may be teaching our kids that such disparity is ok.

Anyways, I’ve got more I could say on that, but I’m not sure it’s necessary. In some ways, when you think about it, it makes the whole creation/evolution debate seem rather superficial, eh?

On a totally different note, I just picked up a copy of “Tickets for a Prayer Wheel” by Sixpence None the Richer. I’ve been listening to it all night, and I love it! It’s kind of trippy! A random collection of indie, soul, instrumental, and some bizarre house/funk thing that I can’t quite figure out. Several years ago I spent an evening with Leigh Nash (their lead singer) and this fits perfectly with the impression I got of her.. weird, a little out there, but deeply introspective. Awesome.