Well, it's been quite awhile since I've done some "Andy Polley bloggin'."  I miss it.  I've written stories, I've kept people updated, but I haven't been bloggin' as I like to.  But rest assured, the fuel is always there.  Boy, I could write for days with what's up in my mind...it's a never-ending montage of thoughts, insights, and questions.  Daily.

And I finally have some downtime tonight, so I'm just goin' to jump right back into it.  No real purpose.  No real agenda.  Just some thoughts I had from a couple days ago.  Who knows?  Maybe this will rekindle my fire.  I would sure enjoy that.

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It's been a long time coming for me.  Almost a year to be exact.  I realized just several weeks ago when I started my intense searching for a job.  One day it just struck me...

I have been unemployed for nearly ONE YEAR.  Before that moment, it never really occurred to me at all!  I mean, my life hasn't necessarily been in that perhaps boring unemployment status at all.  Since my last job in August 2007, I have visited 5 countries, spent three months in Europe, undergone surgery, acquired several advanced pilot ratings, and more or less just prepared myself for my next chapter of life.

But ONE YEAR!!!  Wow.  My dad really does have it right...I really am a professional bum!  It's funny to me, though, really.  I mean, I have been unemployed for a year.  So what's the catch financially?  I mean, how can I do that, right?

Well, the short answer is...wise and aggressive saving, large and unwelcome but perhaps necessary debt, and creative living.  What do I mean?  Well, I love to save money.  I really do.  I understand how money works, and even just working two part-time jobs, I was able to save what I would call a substantial amount of cash in just two years.  Enough to propel me on the European trip of a lifetime with plenty for down the road.

But let me not forget about debt.  Over the last six months, I have acquired nearly $40,000 in debt.  Yeah, and that is AFTER college!  Who does that?!  ha.  But I had the end in sight, and I really believe that my current pilot ratings will bode well for me in the future.  I see it as much as an investment as I do a debt.

And creative living.  With no job, I still could use some money.  I mean, I still drove...and ate...and lived!  So I had to be creative for a couple of months.  I knew a full-time job would be silly with my surgery, and I didn't have the heart to give an employer a month of good work followed by a couple of "rehab work."  So I did what I do best...bought and sold.  I bought several items...then sold them on the internet.  Made enough to keep me afloat for awhile.

Anyway, all that to say, after nearly one year (only within a couple of weeks!), I finally have my first official full-time job.  I am 26 years old, and this is my first one.  We'll see how that goes!

But that's still not what I'm gettin' at here....

So I find myself $40,000 in debt.  Finally pulling in "steady" income (it's commission-based, so it's anything but steady).  And driving my 1992 Mazda Protege so intimately dubbed Vivian back and forth to work.

Now let me introduce you to Viv here.  We only go six months back.  I was to leave one Saturday in February for flight training in Kansas.  And I didn't have a car.  I had been searching the papers for awhile...and even visited dealers.  But nothing in my price range (which wasn't much with the debt I was about to take on) was comin' up.  Outside of one car.  But it wasn't a first choice for me.  She drove fine, seemed to be dependable, but it just didn't have the flare I guess I had anticipated.

Long story short, she was my only option.  It came down to the wire.  I test-drove her a couple of times.  Everything seemed fine outside of a non-working driver's-side window.

I bought the car on Friday.  I had put maybe 15 miles on it.  I paid $1500 plus all of the dealer fees.  And the very next day I put the utmost of faith into her as I drove her out to Kansas.

She treated me well.  She is a 1992 Mazda Protege.  Had 108,000 miles when we first met.  Faded teal green color.  Flaky paint all over the hood.  Some rust spots here and there.  But she drove.  And she drove good.

All I needed was five months out of her.  That was my original goal.  If she could just last me through flight training, then I could get rid of her and move on to something else!

Well, that time is here.  She now has 113,639 miles on her.  I've had to replace an oil plug, replace some rear brake pads, and change her oil.  But that's it.  Well, she also spilled her radiator fluid guts all over a gas station one time, but we had a talk about that.  Since then, she's been good to me.

Oh, sure, her CD player used to fall out every time I hit a bump.  I had to drive with my hand over the unit when I crossed railroad tracks or potholes.  Oh, sure, she has a leak in the gas tank somewhere...so that I can't fill her up completely.  Oh, sure, she smells like gas when I get out...obviously from the fumes leaking out.  Oh, sure, she has a funny burnt smell to her when I finally park her.  Oh, sure the A/C doesn't work.  And sure, ol' Viv pours out some smoke from the engine every time I come to a stop.  But she's good, she's true, and she's incredibly dependable.

And she's cheap.  She's paid off.  She gives me a solid 29-30 miles per gallon every time.  And insurance is only $60/month.  So she costs me maybe $100/month to have.

So explain yourself, Mr. Polley, why you started looking for another car!  I was actually just thanking God one day last week for how good that car has been to me.  She lasted me longer than I asked for, and she's still goin'.  What a blessing!

But it was that VERY DAY when I saw an ad in the paper (hmm...which means I was obviously looking!) for another car.  Nine years newer.  Thousands less miles.  I called.  The car was still for sale.  I had literally told myself that I would keep Viv for as long as possible..."drive her into the ground" so to speak...just hours earlier.  And now I had an appointment to see another car!

Poor Viv!

No, it was poor me.  Now, I'm not sure where I land on any of these matters.  I don't mind nice things.  I don't think it wrong to own nice things (depending upon the situation which changes for each person).  But why was it that I was so eager to get rid of a car which has been so good to me?  About an hour after I made arrangements to see the car, I was so cut to my heart that I called back and canceled.

Why was I doing what I was doing?

I'll tell you why.

I find myself often embarassed by her!  I don't even ask for it, either!  It just comes naturally.  Which isn't a good thing.  Like last week, I was being dropped off at church by some people that took me out to eat.  I had left my car behind in the parking lot and rode with a guy.  And now he was dropping me off.  I pointed to my car in the parking lot.  And I felt a sense of embarassment with her.  She's not pretty.  She's not ugly, but she's not pretty.  But she is unmistakenably old and used.

Or the time I was leaving Sunday School.  I had driven over to the house where we meet, and I was gettin' in to drive back.  Hmm...these people would be watching what I was getting into!

Now, to be fair to myself, every time I combat those thoughts.  I really do.  I use the opportunity to sport my approval of my car.  Sometimes just mentally for myself.  I pat her on the dash sometimes.  I talk to her.  I make sure that I DO NOT avoid being seen with her.  That is just too dangerous...that will surely lead to worse thoughts or actions down the road.  I unashamedly walk to her, get in her, and make eye contact with whoever wants it.  It's become a discipline almost.

But it is noticably hard.  And I wonder why!

I'll tell you why.

I live in an amazing neighborhood.  I just went for a walk today.  Some of the smaller houses are in the lower $300,000's.  The nicer ones are quite possibly double that.  Manicured lawns.  Fancy architecture.  Creative landscaping.  Brick is a requirement...even down to the mailbox.  Decorated sidewalks.  Decorated concrete driveways.  Absolute aesthetic beauty everywhere.  Quite an enjoyable walk...just so easy on the eyes!

And every day, in this neighborhood, I am surrounded by...Lexus.  BMW.  Corvette.  New Altima's.  New Silverado's.  New this, new that.  And I live right on a corner.  I park my car out in the driveway.  And I really find it funny.  I think I have the oldest car in the entire neighborhood...by probably 10 years.  (outside of restored muscle-car beauties, of course).  And she sits so proudly outside!  But the tension is in being embarrassed by her!  And again, I really really do fight those thoughts.  It's just the fact that they are there to begin with...it really concerns me.

So what has happened to me over the years to create such a creature within me?  Why am I not absolutely thrilled to death to only pay $1200/year for EVERYTHING including gas?!  Where have I learned that my personality or worth is attached to what I drive?

And perhaps even more frightening...how do I put that on others?

So a friend and I are driving to a restaurant just two nights ago.  I am driving his Lexus...I live with him.  And I pass a beautiful Pontiac Solstice...with an even more beautiful young female driver.  My friend makes a comment.  I'm not even sure what I say, but I can almost guarantee it being altogether shallow.

The female was beautiful.  And I think she looked even more hot driving a hot car.  What have I become?  What am I thinking?!  What if she had been driving a 1994 Honda Accord with rust?  Would I have been as impressed?  Would I have been as in love...er, lust?  I really am frightened with my own thoughts.

What is it that makes a person's heart, spirituality, and demeanor change when they enter a vehicle?  Why does a person suddenly gain more value, more worth, more love?

Why was I impressed with these beautiful half-million dollar houses?  Why did I hope that cute girls would walk out and join me down the street?  Why would I like more for a girl to walk out of one of these houses and join me versus one of the houses in the poorer neighborhoods on the north side of town?  Why have I become so dismally shallow?

If I reverse that on myself...how would I see myself if I carried those same viewpoints?  Every time I step into my car, do I lose my value?  Or my spirituality?  Or my looks?  Or my worth?  Or my ???  Is there a transforming wall that I pass by right next to the driver's side door?  When I step out of my Protege and into a Lexus, do I change who I am?

I have been exposed down to my core.  And I really don't like what I see.  Truth be told, I am a human.  I might concede that these thoughts may be "natural" (not necessarily natural as in what we were meant to be naturally, but natural in terms of it's what everyone does).  And even more than that perhaps, I am an American.  And it scares me to death.

Especially me.  I have seen poverty.  I have seen the other countries.  Shoot, I have seen our own downtowns.  I have been in inner-city Chicago.  St. Louis.  Jackson.  I have been to places where kids play in sewage.  I have met people who live off of $10/day.  And feed a family of five.  I have seen cardboard houses.  I have seen kids that don't eat every meal.  I have lived next to, talked with, and met these people.

And now in my shallow thoughts, I have deserted them.

Am I surprised?  Not really.  I mean, just think of the number of advertisements I see every day.  Buy this, buy that.  Newer this, newer that.  Faster this, faster that.  TV's, billboards, signs, radio, friends, internet.  Garbage in, garbage out.  I mean, seriously, when's the last time you saw a commercial that told you to keep your vehicle?  Or a bank that told you to pay to stop getting loans?  It just won't happen.

So I am left to let it be a battle.  Every day I ride with Viv, I must muster the strength to be proud.  To realize that I save $6 every day versus a monthly car payment.  To realize that she and I are debt-free.  To realize that's it not me who is worse off for driving her...but to realize it's the person next to me in their shiny car who is worse off for thinking that about me when they look over.  (And for you shiny car drivers, I'm not insulting you...I'm glad you have a nice car.  I could very well be driving one in the future.  I know I sure have in the past.  But with that said, I sure wouldn't mind asking you just what you think about me in my car.  Or what you think about yourself because of your car.  I will unabashedly ask that any day.  And I think you should ask that yourself...and answer).

Anyway, that was my day a couple of days ago.  Rest assured, Vivian and I are still together.  No break-ups, no hard feelings.

But I'm still intrigued just by how much I am shaped by others...by society.  I would probably be scared to realize just how deep culture has inserted its claws in my flesh...

You know, I have heard people talk about fasting from food.  From sex.  From video games.  From the stuff that makes us unhealthy, unwise.  But I rarely if ever hear of fasting from what I call the "-er" mentality.  Newer, bigger, faster, brighter, shinier...it's all around us.  Go ahead, just listen for the "er" words tomorrow.  Count 'em.

I wonder what would happen if we fasted from advertisements.

I think I know.

I think we would see ourselves increase in value.

I'm not even sure where to begin.  Maybe I'll start with this...my sister recently told me to be careful (or maybe stop wearing) my Cubs cut-off shirt that I have.  To her credit, she has a fair point.  The last two times I have worn my favorite Cubs cut-off shirt (favorite at the time anyway...I always have to replace them as you will see...), I have had some pretty life-changing stories.  Shoot, the very first day I had the first shirt was the first day that I had my week-long saga with my nasal cavity.  Turns out I had lodged tons and tons of grass and dirt up in there.  Not good.  Another time I had the shirt on, I hit a van while riding a motorcycle...40 stitches in my face, broken nose, two torn tendons...the whole bit.  Not too good.  They cut the shirt off of me.  And yet another time I had my favorite Cubs shirt on, I nearly jack-hammered my own toe completely off.  Not good.

Well, I wore my favorite cut-off Cubs shirt today...

I went for a run yesterday at a beautiful park just two miles from my house.  A cross-country path wraps all the way around it, and I have quickly fallen in love with this place.  I just love to run surrounded by beautiful scenery.

So there I am tonight, fixin' to go run the path yet again.  I grab some water, hop in the car, and head on over.  I run the first loop in 16 minutes.  Frankly, I'm not sure if that is good or bad.  I don't know how long it is, but I'm guessin' two or two and a half miles.  I hope anyway.  Anything shorter, and I'm shamed as a runner!  Well, I felt pretty good, and I on my cool-down I was passed by some guys and girls off of a cross-country team.  I don't know what it is about me, but I just love a good challenge.  And I love passing people.  And at their pace, I knew I could have a shot.

So I drank some water, started my watch again, and I was off.  The team had already wrapped around a bend and was out of sight.  Sweet.  I would have to work for this one!  Well, I didn't end up catching them until nearly halfway around...and even then, I was spent!  I mean, I was tired.  I actually did a short walk to muster the strength to pass them.  I mean, seriously, you DO NOT pass someone only to walk afterwards and be passed by them.  Terrible cross-country form.  (Well, ok, so is walking, but hey, c'mon, I'm out of training!).

So I start to run again, and I make my move...just nabbin' one...then another...then another...tryin' not to pick up my pace as I go (it's quite easy and tempting to speed up as you pass...but that can wear you out quickly!).  Finally, I've passed the whole team...such a great feeling.  I nearly make it around two full times, but I used the last stretch as my final cool-down.  I was exhausted.  It was probably 90 degrees by now...goin' on 8:00 P.M. after another 100-degree day.  Needless to say, I was shirtless and sweating.  And tired.  But it had been a great day of running.  I haven't ran two days in a row in who knows how long!  But the scenery, the people, the excitement...and the feeling of it!  I remember oh so well why I love this!

I walked up to my car and grabbed my water again.  I noticed a group from church sitting on the picnic table just in front of me.  I had recognized him on my first lap cool-down, and we chatted for just a bit.  More or less, we said hi.  I had just been to church for the first time that Sunday, and now I'm seein' him out at the park!  I guess a group of them walk.  Well, the group has finished up their lap, and they are all sitting down there.  I debated about whether to go down there, but I figured I might as well!  It was either that or go home, and I wanted him to know that I felt comfortable talkin' to him!  I think he didn't want to be too "aggressive" as a church guy when I had talked to him back on Sunday.

So I went down to say hello.  We talked for several minutes, and he introduced me to the ladies of the group (all older, so don't be gettin' excited now!).  haha...someone made a comment, and I made a joke, and...

VRRRRRROOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!

What in the world?

I look up.  A car is being floored through the woods.  Oh no.  Someone is committing suicide.  A huge tree.  This is going to be ugly.  The car speeds up.  Not letting off the gas.  Right in the middle of these huge trees!  Misses the first one.  Oh wow....how close was that?!  One more dead ahead.  I really didn't know what to think...nothin' to do but watch...someone is goin' to die just 200 feet in front of me.  Misses the next one!  How in the world?  Now what?!  My depth perception was obviously difficult and untrustworthy at my angle and with all of the various trees...but my mind was quick to determine a motive and a result within the 2.4 seconds that this all took place in.

The sticks, mud, and stones were all a'flyin' the entire time...and makin' noise off of hittin' the car the entire way down.  It was quite a sight.  And then it happened.  Once the car was past the last tree, it had nothing but wide-open lake ahead of it.  SPLASH!!!

I didn't think twice.  I don't even know if I thought once to be honest.  I just ran.  As fast as I could.  It's funny how our minds work, because I distinctly remember throwing my glass of water behind me with my left hand...as clear as day.  And I remember taking my shirt off of me as I ran down to the lake...just 100 feet away.  I knew that this was goin' to be a rescue, and I knew I was goin' to have to swim.  I needed to get the baggage off of me.

And then I hit the water full-force.  I couldn't tell you what form I hit it in, but I just remember swimming.  And swimming.  And swimming.  In my mind, I was thinking of the people back on shore wondering why I was swimming so slow.  I really don't know how slow I was, but I just felt like it was taking an eternity.  I was even waiting for someone to pass me.  That never happened.

I got to the car...and grabbed the bumper.  I pulled myself around to the driver's side.  No one in the back seat.  A lady in the front seat.  "Oh my God!  Oh my God!  Help me!  I can't swim!  Help me!!!"

"I'm here, I'm here!  Ok, we have to get you out!"  I knew time was NOT on my side.  The driver's door window was thankfully down...and she was thankfully unbuckled.  But she was not able to get out.  The door would not open...I don't know if it was locked or if it was the water, but it was staying put.  She's comin' through the window then.  That's my only option.

But she couldn't get out.  The water is close to the window.  The car is still floating (and I can remember thinking that it has been floating awhile), but I knew that wouldn't last long.  I have no idea about time, but I am sure we are still at less than a minute.

She's havin' a hard time gettin' out!  "Help me!  Help me!"

"Ok, ok, we have to get you out!  I need your legs.  She sure wasn't bein' cooperative.  I pushed her over towards the passenger seat...and grabbed one of her legs.  The other wasn't comin'.  She was being anything but cooperative.  Not because she didn't want to, obviously.  She was just so scared and full of panic.

I was able to get both legs.  I'm tryin' to pull her out.

Crap, there it goes!  I can see and feel the car going forward now.  We do not have much time.  At all.  Yet the entire time I am thinking that it is going to hit bottom...it is going to hit bottom.

I'm finally able to pull her out.  We are both out of the car.  But she is clinging to me.  Very hard.  And I am losing everything I had clung onto.  I was holding myself on the car window sill, but it has tipped full forward now.  The car is now straight up and down and sinking fast.  And I can hear the water rushing in.

And I knew exactly what was going to happen, and for a second, I was scared.  She was hanging so tightly onto me, making it incredibly difficult for me to swim.  And I have now lost my hold on the car.  I have to tread water.  And I have to hold her, and she is definitely taking me down with her.  All I can think about is lifeguards and how victims can drown you with them.  I know it in my mind, and I am trying to fight just that.

And then it happened.  I lost her.  I completely and totally lost her to the suction.  The water just poured in that window, and she went.  And I went, too.  I was sucked towards it.  But I was still above water...at the back window driver's side now.  The car is sticking straight up.  But she is gone.  I was totally and completely devastated.  And utterly helpless.

I try to step on the side of the car, on the back of the car.  And I was actually able to for just a second or two maybe as the car sank.  But it kept going.  And it didn't stop.  I now have nothing.  I am treading water.  But she is gone.  I see a man swimming out to help, but she is gone.

What have I done?!  Oh, no, oh no, oh no!  This can't be happening!  I want so bad to swim underwater, but I can't.  I am so tired.  My lungs are burning.  My legs are on fire.  I just don't have it in me.  I have to go get her.  I have to...she is drowning!  She is not going to make it!  Where is she?  Oh no, oh no...

To be honest, I really don't know how to put all of the above into words.  I just felt so helpless.  I literally had lost her.  And I had lost my strength, too.  Adrenaline kicks in, yes.  I didn't even think about most of what I did.  But to be frank, I was just downright exhausted.  My body was just on the verge of being done.  I knew that to go underwater may mean trouble for me...I don't even know if I could've held my breath...I was so tired.

I looked with utter helplessness into the eyes of the man swimming out.  We just treaded there, neither one of us really having the strength to go under.  Just helpless.  I think he went under once, but came right back up.  Of course, I couldn't have it.  I was mustering the strength...a woman is drowning right beneath me!  I was just about to try (and I'm thinking where she went under, etc...all of this is running through my mind).  But then I saw her!  She had been under probably 5...6...7...8 seconds?  I really don't know.  But she surfaced!  I grabbed her.  He grabbed her, and we both started treading together.  She was spitting some water out of her mouth, but she was still there.  How she surfaced I will never know, but I was not going to lose her this time.

Somewhere in there, I remember kicking my shoes off.  I had swam all the way out with them on...not really thinking about it, of course.  But now they are lead weights on my body.  I can remember thinking I am going to have to get rid of these to hold that woman up.  I didn't notice them until that car sank, and I had to start treading water.  They were so hard to move underwater.  I just remember kicking them off underwater way out there.

But I was dying.  Not literally dying, but I was just completely and totally exhausted.  My body was spent.  And I am struggling.  My quads are literal infernos...pain in every kick.  I am zapped of oxygen.  And I have a woman still clinging desperately to me.  And him.  And we are both struggling to get back to shore...probably 40 feet out.

"We need more swimmers!  More swimmers!"  I beg and plead with the people on shore...15 people.  But as I look, I notice mostly middle-aged women...probably not the strongest of swimmers.  Nothin' against them, but I can remember just thinking oh no.  oh no.  No more help.  A younger girl jumps in and starts comin' out.

I don't have it in me.  Yet we must!  "C'mon, let's go.  Keep her up!  Just kick, kick, kick!  C'mon, we got her!"  I'm firin' myself up as much as them.  Are we moving?!  Kick, kick, kick.  Stay above.  Keep her above.  She is above water.  The other man is a God-send.  A third man helps us.  He has met us out in the water.  And we just start treading together...so slow, though.  "C'mon, guys!  Just kick.  Kick!!!  C'mon!"  C'mon, myself.

Once closer to shore, I finally break away so that I can stand.  I am almost done.  My body is finished.  But I feel for that mud, and once I have it, I stand, and I reach out my hand to the guy.  He grabs me, holds on to her, and I pull them in.  We all stand in mud.  Then walk up towards the shore.  The woman doesn't even get out.  She just sits in the muddy water, crying and saying all sorts of things.  "We have to call my husband, my son.  Oh, God help me.  God help me.  Oh thank you..."

I walk around on shore...totally exhausted.  Breathing probably the hardest I have ever breathed.  Totally spent.  I am just exhausted.  I have nothing left.  I notice a police car has just pulled up...but it has turned the wrong way.  People are yelling...

"Someone go drive a car out to the front to meet them!"  I yell at the crowd.  And then one-by-one, the rescue cars start coming.  Police cars, fire trucks, whatever...ambulance...tow-truck, I'm not sure who all came in.

I just walk back and sit in the mud with the woman.  She is still very much shaken up.  People are trying to piece things together, but I just tell her she's safe.  She's back on solid ground.  Let's walk up to shore.  We hold hands and walk out of the water together.

Over the next hour or so, I am interviewed by several policemen.  I have to fill out a paper statement as a witness, and I am interviewed by the local newspaper.  Several women come over and hug me and give me various names...all very appreciative.  The police chief (I think) comes on over and tells me thanks.  He said he had to go to another call, but he wanted to personally say thanks.  That was neat.

And during the interview with the newspaper, the man said that I was being called a hero...an angel.  It's not surprising, I guess.  That's what happens in stories like these.  I thought this is exactly what ends up in Reader's Digest.  But he asked me what I thought about those comments...

And I'm not sure exactly what I said...but I remember some of the words being this...

"Life is about putting other people first.  I am glad to have helped out, and I just hope that others would do the same for me."

It's nothin' special, it's nothin' fancy.  But that's it.  I didn't know this woman, but I saw a need.  I didn't question anything, I just ran.  I didn't need to know anything.  A person's life was at stake.

And I guess to me, that is worth fighting for.

**********************************

What a night.  We'll see how sleep goes tonight.  I actually stayed around and waited for my shoes.  It's kind of sad, really.  I always felt bad askin' about 'em to the police officers, but you could see 'em floating out in the water.  And just moving here, I don't really have any other pairs besides dress shoes.

So I stuck around for over an hour.  I was kind of boxed in by several police cars, too.  The Diving Team came out for the police, and they spent 20 minutes looking for the car.  After finally finding it, they pulled it out...upside down...that's how the car ended up after sinking, I guess.  There was all sorts of mud just sittin' there on the ceiling (see pic) when they pulled it out...and of course, water draining from everywhere.

But I did get my shoes back.  And I had the opportunity to meet the park owner, and we talked about running...and he even offered me a pair of shoes that he had...brand new ones in his car...seeing as how I was shirt-less...and shoe-less.  But they were two sizes too small.  Oh well.

What a night.

(Oh, and as for my favorite Cubs cut-off shirt?  The woman left wearing it.  After pulling her out of the water, she was wearing a white shirt...kind of exposed.  Someone asked for a shirt.  Imagine my surprise when I help to put it on her...and notice that it is in fact MY shirt!  Someone must've found it on the ground and called it a good choice!).

What a night.

I have a feeling the next several days are all going to be a blur.

Well, I officially found out this afternoon:  I have been hired by SkyVenture, Inc. out of Jonesboro, Arkansas!!!  I am going to be a full-time flight instructor teaching other people how to fly!

And to be quite honest, I'm quite stoked!!!  I flew down to Fayetteville, Arkansas, last week to interview with the owners, and I really like what I saw.  Incredible facilities, great customer appreciation, up-t0-date aircraft, and nice people all-around.  I have been to other flight schools and FBO's, but I was rather impressed with this one.  I would be proud to show someone where I worked!  The oldest 172 they fly is a 2004!!!  wow!

So tomorrow I am flying over to Jonesboro to check out apartments.  I'm hopin' to find something quickly, as I would like to move in over the weekend!  Talk about a time-crunch, huh?!  So that should be an exciting day, for sure!

I start my job on Wednesday, just seven short days from now.  So tomorrow I'll fly over there, Friday I'll use up the last of my hours, and Saturday I'll drive over and move in.  Wow!!!  It's goin' to be crazy!

It's been a long-time coming, though at the same time, it's amazing that the time is already here.  I've been here in Chanute for five months...so it's not that long, but part of it feels like an eternity, too.  But I'm incredibly eager to be an instructor, and I look forward to what the next several weeks are going to bring!  I imagine there is going to be a HUGE learning curve!

Ah, to think...I am going to be TEACHING someone else HOW TO FLY!!!  What an awesome responsibility!

Woo hoo!

Well, one check-ride down.  One more to go.  Same day.

I asked if the Examiner wanted to get a bite to eat first.  He said it was up to me.   I said let's get this thing over with!  So we jumped right into the oral...

We talked about what you need to fly IFR...on the airplane and in the logbook.  Nothing real difficult there.

Then he had me walk him through an IFR flight plan from start to finish.  I actually didn't have one prepared, so I had to make one up right there AND teach it.  But as he told me to do that, he said we should go eat and do it over lunch.  So we hopped on over to the restaurant...with me tugging all my books and charts.

More or less, NOTHING took place in terms of my oral over lunch.  The books just sat there...and we made small talk.  I shared my goals and dreams with him...he just kind of sat silent, not offering much.  I wasn't sure what to think!  So we spent about 30-45 minutes over lunch.  A nice break, really.

Then we jumped right back into the oral back in the classroom.  And I went at it with everything I had.  How to get a clearance, what to do if the Tower is closed, how to find out if the Tower is closed.  Who to call, who to talk to, what the clearance means.  How to write it down, etc.

I showed my "student" how to track our course to our destination...and at what altitude we would have to maintain.  Acting as Clearance Delivery, he told me I was clear to the Victor 4 radial at 4000 feet.  So I wrote that down.  I showed him how to intercept and proceed on course.  Nothin' real difficult.

And I showed him what all we would need.  IFR charts, an alternate if necessary, how to determine if an alternate is needed (the 1-2-3 rule), how to look up weather, and on and on.  So we treated it just like a real flight.  I picked up everything I needed for my flight to Lincoln, Nebraska...complete with an alternate (though that wasn't needed).  He asked me some questions about the IFR chart (about Alternate minimums and what all that meant), but it wasn't very extensive.

The Oral wasn't too bad on this one.  Probably lasted 45 minutes.  Then we were off to fly!  And I was to fly that exact trip I just planned out.  So on the ground, I punched all my radials and frequencies in.  Then we took off, and I intercepted my radial (under the hood, of course).  Flew up to 4000 feet and started trackin' V-4.  Pretty easy.

Then we did some unusual attitude recoveries under the hood.  That went really well.  Then he had me do some turns (and, YES, I used the rudder!).  Nothin' difficult.  Oh, but wouldn't ya know it, my vacuum system fails!  So I had no attitude indicator or heading indicator.  So I just used the compass.  Pretty simple.

From there he vectored me in for the ILS 13 Approach.  I nailed that one pretty well.  No problems really.  I am a bit rusty on ILS approaches (only having done one in the past several weeks!), but I just put my training to use.  Pretty easy with the GPS, too.  We went "missed" and went to the holding pattern.  I entered with a tear-drop entry, then went around for one circuit.  From there he had me set up for the VOR 22 Approach.  So I punched that in, flew the DME arc, then came in on the inbound course.  It has a step-down and a little 9-degree shift after the VOR, but I was all ready for that.  It was a long approach, but it went very smoothly.  I had the plane set up and configured to land at the right times.

And then I landed on Runway 22!  And that was that!  1.2 hours.  And I KNEW I passed this one!

So after two LONG check-rides in one day, I am now COMPLETELY done with my training!!!  I am now a bonafide Commercial pilot with CFI, CFII, and MEI ratings!  It has been a looooong time coming (5 months!), but the day has finally arrived.

And to be honest, it really hasn't sunk in.  At all.  It was a looooong day (I think I had seven hours of testing), and I didn't get back to Chanute until after 4:00 P.M.  Woke up at 6:30 A.M.  yikes.  Needless to say, I was pretty tired.

But it's all over!  It's all behind me!  And I'm sure it will sink in sometime!

It really is a great feeling, though.  This is what I came out to Kansas to do.  And I have finally finished it.

I guess it's on to a job next!  ha!  (who am I kidding?!)

So what's more fun than doing one check-ride in a day?  Buckin' up and goin' for two!

So began my Saturday.

Flew up to Topeka to take my Certified Flight Instructor-Airplane and Certified Flight Instructor-Instrument...IN THE SAME DAY!!!

And let me tell you, one check-ride is plenty to prepare for.  But two?  Well, let's just say I was called foolish by at least one person.  haha.

So I landed at Topeka just before 9:00 A.M.  Had an interesting flight on the way in.  I was mirroring a Cessna the entire time...and we had no visual of each other.  He was below me, I was obviously above him, and our wings blocked our view.  12 mile call at the same time.  9 miles out.  Entering downwind at the same time.  And Tower just kept us coming in...without a visual on us.  My landing light was on, but he didn't have us in sight.  I was a bit concerned, so I finally by-passed Tower on the frequency and asked the other pilot to give his altitude immediately.  1900 feet.  I was descending from Forbes Airspace and happily stayed above him at 2200 feet.  No thanks to the Tower.

I was the one that had been cleared to enter left downwind, cleared to land, etc. the ENTIRE time.  But he was still just letting the other guy follow the same path.  After all was said and done, I look out my right window to finally see him right beside me at less than 1/4 mile.  C'mon.

Well, I meet my Examiner, and we hop right into the oral.  The oral itself lasted about 45-50 minutes, and we mainly talked about what a student pilot needs in terms of endorsements (I had those nailed down from my MEI check-ride), and we spent a great deal of time on stall-spin awareness.  I was asked to explain what a stall is, what a spin is, and make it simple for a student to understand.  Of course, I started drawin' pictures!  The oral went pretty well.  It helps having the same Examiner, as he knows what questions I have already answered in previous check-rides.

From there, we went out to fly the airplane.  He had me do a soft-field take-off into a soft-field landing.  We requested the option, and then I did a short-field take-off into a short-field landing.  Of course, with a 1966 Piper Cherokee, the pilot is the only one with toe brakes, so I coordinated his feet with my landings!

Then we went out to the Practice Area to do some maneuvers.  He had me demonstrate a stall at 1500 RPM's.  I took it all the way to the stall, and he about had a fit!  He said correct at the FIRST SIGN of a stall (meaning the buffet).  AGGHH!!!  I was told to take it all the way to a true stall in my training!  Well, we did a series of several stalls and corrections.  1500 RPM's.  Stall, correct, another stall, correct, another stall, correct.  Then 2000 RPM's.  Same thing.  Then full power.  Same thing.  After I figured out what he wanted, it wasn't hard (it's REALLY easy to correct at the buffet stage!), but I could tell he was frustrated with me for taking it all the way into the stall.  Not good!

We did Chandelles, and those were decent.  I used my ailerons and rudder to turn into the turn at first, and I guess you are only supposed to bank at first, so that didn't go over so well.  And let me tell you, he was on me like stink on a hog about the rudder.  I would use rudder...but it wouldn't be enough.  Ever it seems!  I was watchin' that ball throughout the check-ride, but I think he never took his eyes off of it!  At one point he asked me if I knew how to do the maneuver.  That's a low blow!  So I explained every minute detail of it...what the aircraft is supposed to do and at what points.  Not a good start, though...this wasn't how I wanted to start.

RUDDER, RUDDER, RUDDER!!!  More!  "Are you going to use your rudder?"  "Wouldn't you think a commercial pilot would use his rudder?"  "Turns are better with rudder input."  I was gettin' hammered.  NOT good.

We did unusual attitudes, but those weren't too bad.  I was able to correct them easy enough.  But he did ask me an interesting question about my correction.  He asked me when we were straight and level.  Umm...I just used the reference to the attitude indicator, to outside, to the VSI, and altimeter.  Nope!  aye aye aye.  So he took the airplane and used it as a teaching opportunity for me.  He told me to watch the gauges as he over-corrected.  Of course, I was watching the instruents, and he was blowin' right by them...500 feet descent.  500 feet climb.  Back and forth.  Could never nail it.

He told me to watch for the moment where the trend stops.  In other words, once that needle stops going up on the VSI (or down)...the same thing with the airspeed indicator.  Once the needle starts to reverse course, then we have our point where we want to be essentially.  We are no longer climbing or descending...unless we correct in the opposite direction.  Interesting, for sure.

We did a steep spiral, and this was my weakness in my Commercial check-ride.  Well, it turns out I was better...but not by much, I guess.  I was doing an OK job of staying over my point, but I was starting to get a bit nervous!  He asked me at what altitude we were to stop the maneuver, and I had absolutely NO idea.  Not a clue.  He told me 1500 AGL (though we later checked the PTS, and there was no mention of this on that maneuver, so I was a bit off the hook).  But this check-ride was NOT going well!

Once close to the ground, we did Eights on Pylons.  Now Van had told me to really nail these.  And I knew how to do them.  So I entered downwind and went right at it.  And he was having a fit again.  NOW WHAT?!  I was losing my confidence rather quickly.  "How do you enter this maneuver"?  "Downwind, which I DID!"  What was he lookin' for?  So I chose my two points and did them.  I increased my altitude when the point got behind me and descended when it was goin' ahead of me.  Per the handbook, I thought I did rather fine with it.

But something was not right.  "YOU DO NOT use power in this maneuver."  You have got to be kidding me!!!  I had trained with power and back pressure if I needed to climb.  Could anything else go wrong?  I mean, seriously.  So I set the power and took my hand off the throttle so as to appease him.  I just focused on keeping my reference point lined up with the object.  wow.

Well, it turned out that I also entered the maneuver incorrectly.  I entered downwind, but I chose two points parallel with downwind rather than perpendicular.  Did I ever mention that this checkride was NOT going well?

Well, we finished that up, then headed back for the airport.  He had me cross over Runway 17, then turn onto left downwind.  So as to do a Power-Off 180 Approach, I had to cut my engine once abeam of my touchdown point.  I landed that no problem.

I seriously had possibly the worst check-ride of my life there.  It's not that I was way off in terms of performance.  It's just that it wasn't up to CFI Quality standards (what I was going for), but I was more confused than anything because of how I learned the maneuvers.  Not a good place to be.  I can handle the airplane, I know that.  But I was just not doing what he wanted me to do in terms of maneuvers, and it kept on adding up.

We landed, and I really didn't know what to think.  I hadn't really busted anything in terms of altitudes or performance...but it was NOT a good check-ride.  And I think he knew that I was wondering, so he let me know that I had passed.  Wow.  What a relief.  He has NEVER told me before...he could probably sense my eagerness/anxiety to find out!  haha...

This is one check-ride that I would sure like to put behind me.  Not fun at all!

But as the guys at the airport say..."You have your certificate, and that's all that matters at the end of the day."  I guess that's true...I can now teach people how to fly single-engine airplanes!

And to be honest, I really didn't care about the rest of the day!  I mean, of course I did...but THIS was the rating that I needed to apply for jobs.  This was the one that I would be using the most in the next several months.  This was the one that I needed.  This was the one that really counted.  I HAD TO PASS!!!  Well, I did, and it feels more than great...

I just hope I can muster some confidence for that next check-ride in 30 minutes!!!