Themed Nights

You can visit a theme park, attend a themed party, or have a favorite theme song. Now you can also have the night of your “themes” thanks to themed mini bar packages being offered at certain hotels.

The “Get It On” mini bar sounds a little interesting to me. I wonder if they allow substitutions—like Asti instead of champagne or Barry Manilow instead of Barry White. They probably charge extra for that.

I am definitely feeling the need to get away for a few days. Two questions: do I want to bring Hubby along, and what kind of theme can I dream up?

If I expect breakfast to be brought to me in bed and to have my bath run, I suppose I’ll need Hubby, so that answers the first question.

On to the second.

How about Margaritaville? Bring the bucket of margaritas, glasses, salt shaker, and a Jimmy Buffet CD.

Maybe you all can help me out and fill in the blanks, or come up with your own? I know how creative my readers can be. (Just please remember this is a family site and that MFSG visits once in a while.)

Something like the LEO Special, with water pistols, handcuffs…

Medicine for the Medic, with the little doctor kit, instructions for chest massage and mouth-to-mouth…

Cowboys and Indians—feather headdress, peace pipe and/or hatchet (depending on the mood) (or maybe the hatchet belongs in the Lorena Bob It collection?)…

The Mile High Club—packages of peanuts, mini booze bottles, plastic pilot wings…

The Newlywed Game—Sex 101 for Dummies…

My personal favorite, the one I think I’ll investigate, is the Romancing the Stoned package, if I can figure out what comes with it besides a joint and some munchies.

Thanks to Ambulance Driver and Diamond Mair, I’ve now been visiting Dragonwatch regularly. We’ve got quite a bit in common, he also has an interesting and rather eclectic background. You’ll see he’s been added to my list on the side, run over and tell him hi.

Flo

Rotary Wing Flight Lesson

Before we begin, I have to get some things off my chest. I am hurt, hurt, hurt, that someone would call my helicopters ugly and that they only fly because the earth rejects and repels them. My IP’s taught me it had to do with smoke and mirrors, and I believe them. I think there was mention of rubber bands, too.

Someone evil in me just can’t resist this, DW—most fun: flying, anywhere, not only for free, but getting paid to do it!

Now, on to our instruction…

Lesson 1: Terminology

I know it can be difficult, but practice saying “rotary wing” until it flows off your tongue without sounding like “roarroarreering.” It’s much more impressive to say “rotary wing” than “helicopter.” Then, when someone asks you why it’s called a rotary wing, you can say it’s because the wings aren’t fixed, like, say, a fixed-wing.

When you become as experienced or tongue-tied as I am, we old-timers call them a helicopter. Not “chopper,” as to be confused with a Hog. Or, you could say, “I’m in a Chinook unit.” My understanding is that CH-47 Chinooks got their name from an Indian tribe and word meaning “wind.” I guess they were also called “Hooks” because in addition to the troops and cargo DW mentioned, they could also sling loads with the cargo hook. I never heard anyone in an aviation unit call us (or me, even) a “Hooker.” Of course, there weren’t many of us (wimmen folks) flying them back then, and I guess the guys might have taken offense to it. Hmmm, matter of fact, Hubby would probably knock someone flat on their behind if someone called him that, even jokingly. Anyway, when you get really, really good, you just say “I’m a –47 driver.” Everybody that’s anybody knows what you mean.

Back in my day (when dinosaurs roamed the earth, as Holly would say), we still had Huey-drivers. Those of us that hadn’t transitioned into the Chinooks yet were constantly told that “skids are for kids.” Ha ha. When I went to flight school, we were first taught on a TH-55. They look very similar to what Dave Berry was describing. (By the way, there really is an organization called the “Whirly Girls.” I had a chance to become a charter member back when I was young and inexperienced. Should have taken them up on the offer so no one would question my orders.) It was a two-seater, and anyone with claustrophobia hoped their training was in the summer so the doors would be off.

“T” stood for “training,” and “H” was for “helicopter.” You know the military, everything has to be designated something. So there’s A for Attack, B for Bomber, C for Cargo, F for Fighter, U for Utility. (And all this time you thought A was for Alpha, B was for Bravo, C was for Charlie…) We had a lot of good stories in flight school: There I was, in my AH-55, 5000 feet, the enemy hot after me…

Ok, I think that’s enough information for now. I don’t want to overwhelm myself, I mean, you, with too much all at once.

BossMan says it’s time for me to get my behind over to the house and get to cleaning. The Inspector is coming tomorrow and the Appraiser on Tuesday. Boss is getting a touch hespis and wants things perfect. (Gee, I sure hope it doesn’t make any difference if the place still isn’t completed.)

Flight instruction will resume……some day.

Flo

Helicopter Rules

If you’ve never been in a helicopter, this is about as good an explanation as you can get!

RULES OF HELICOPTER FLYING
Written by: David Berry
Nationally Syndicated columnist

TODAY'S AVIATION TOPIC IS: How to fly a helicopter.

Although flying a helicopter may seem very difficult, the truth is that if you can drive a car, you can, with just a few minutes of instruction, take the controls of one of these amazing machines. Of course you would immediately crash and die. This is why you need to remember:

RULE ONE OF HELICOPTER PILOTING: Always have somebody sitting right next to you who actually knows how to fly the helicopter and can snatch the controls away from you. Because the truth is that helicopters are nothing at all like cars. Cars work because of basic scientific principles that everybody understands, such as internal combustion and parallel parking. Whereas scientists still have no idea what holds helicopters up. "Whatever it is, it could stop at any moment," is their current feeling.

RULE TWO OF HELICOPTER PILOTING: Maybe you should forget the entire thing.

This was what I was thinking on a recent Saturday morning as I stood outside a small airport in South Florida, where I was about to take my first helicopter lesson. This was not my idea. This was the idea of Pam Gallina-Raisstguier, who flies radio reporters over Miami during rush hour so they can alert drivers to traffic problems ("Bob, we have a three-mile backup on the interstate due to an overturned cocaine truck"). Pam is active in an international organization of women helicopter pilots called (Gloria Steinem; avert your eyes) the "Whirly Girls." She thought it would be a great idea for me to take a helicopter lesson. I began having severe doubts when I saw Pam's helicopter. This was a small helicopter. It looked like it should have a little slot where you insert quarters to make it go up and down. I knew that if we got airborne in a helicopter this size in South Florida, some of our larger tropical flying insects could very well attempt to mate with us. Also, this helicopter had no doors. As a Frequent Flyer, I know for a fact that all your leading U.S. airlines, despite being bankrupt, maintain a strict safety policy of having doors on their aircraft. "Don't we need a larger helicopter?" I asked Pam. "With doors?" "Get in." said Pam.

You don't defy a direct order from a Whirly Girl. Now we're in the helicopter, and Pam is explaining the controls to me over the headset, but there's static and the engine is making a lot of noise. "your throttle (something)," she is saying. "This is your cyclic and (something) your collective." "What?" I say. "(something) give you the controls when we reach 500 feet," Pam says. "What?" I say. But Pam is not listening. She is moving a control thing and WHOOOOAAAAAA we are shooting up in the air, and there are still no doors on this particular helicopter. Now Pam is giving me the main control thing.

RULE THREE OF HELICOPTER PILOTING: If anybody tries to give you the main control thing, refuse to take it. Pam says: "You don't need hardly any pressure to... " AIEEEEEEEEEEE "That was too much pressure," Pam says. Now I am flying the helicopter. I AM FLYING THE HELICOPTER. I am flying it by not moving a single body part, for fear of jiggling the control thing. I look like the Lincoln Memorial statue of Abraham Lincoln, only more rigid. "Make a right turn," Pam is saying. I gingerly move the control thing one zillionth of an inch to the right and helicopter LEANS OVER TOWARD MY SIDE AND THERE IS STILL NO DOOR HERE. I instantly move the thing one zillionth of an inch back. "I'm not turning right." I inform Pam. "What?" she says. "Only left turns." I tell her. When you've been flying helicopters as long as I have, you know your limits. After a while it becomes clear to Pam that if she continues to allow the Lincoln statue to pilot the helicopter, we are going to wind up flying in a straight line until we run out of fuel, possibly over Antarctica, so she takes the control thing back. That is good news. The bad news is, she's now saying something about demonstrating an "emergency procedure." "It's for when your engine dies," Pam says. "It's called 'auto-rotation'." Do you like amusement park rides?" I say: "No, I DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOnnnnnnnnn't"

RULE FOUR OF HELICOPTER PILOTING: "Auto-rotation" means "coming down out of the sky at about the same speed and aerodynamic stability as that of a forklift dropped from a bomber. "Now we're close to the ground (although my stomach is still at 500 feet), and Pam is completing my training by having me hover the helicopter.

RULE FIVE OF HELICOPTER PILOTING: You can't hover the helicopter. The idea is to hang over one spot on the ground. I am hovering over an area approximately the size of Australia. I am swooping around sideways and backward like a crazed bumblebee. If I were trying to rescue a person from the roof of a 100-story burning building, the person would realize that it would be safer to simply jump. At times I think I am hovering upside-down. Even Pam looks nervous. So I am very happy when we finally get back on the ground. Pam tells me I did great, and she'd be glad to take me up again. I tell her that sounds like a fun idea.

RULE SIX OF HELICOPTER PILOTING: Sometimes you have to lie.

Coming soon to a blog near you—free flying lessons.

Flo

HOORAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Finally! After all this time, I can’t believe it’s finally here! I’ve almost forgotten how long I’ve been waiting for this. After all the money spent…all the setbacks…contracts, negotiations, specifications………All the hard work, all the time put into it, changing this, changing that, the give and take, ups and downs………….The last minute substitutions, who’s responsible for this or that, who’s to blame for this or that, who really deserves the credit……The details, the vision, the appraising…….The heat, the cold, the rain, the snow………The arguing, the yelling, the hugs, the pats on the back………Pride, thrill, agony, pain………..We’ve seen it all……….

And now, at long last………..

Drum roll, please……..

No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! The house is NOT done…..

Football season is over.

Now all that's left to talk about is whether Prince's guitar was just a guitar.

Flo

Super Bore?

No Clydesdales. How un-superbowl-manly. We were gypped, I tell ye!

I bet them horses wised up and gave ‘em hell during contract negotiations:

“We want oats and grain three times a day, not just twice, you miserly owners! And nuthin’ but the sweetest clover hay!”

“Hoof-icures once a week. I think French tips would look good, don’t the rest of you?”

“No more braids! My mane is hell to comb out after you do that. Besides, Fred says it makes him look like a sissy!”

“You better get Marge some breath mints, or I refuse to stand next to her!”

“Soap suds enema ‘til clear for ol’ Barney over there before every performance. He thinks his manure don’t stink, but I’m not gonna be hooked up behind him no more if you don’t take care of it!”

“Yer profits are ‘riding’ on us, fellas. I suggest you meet our demands or next year you’re gonna be talkin’ to the Belgians down the road.”

(And let me tell you, as a half-Belgian, them Belgian horses ain’t NEAR as stubborn as a Belgian woman, so you better hope they don’t have one as their manager.)

I dunno. I commented over at Lovi’s that it seemed the most excitement of the night occurred with the opening kick. All those sports commentators had just predicted the Colts would win by a large margin, and then Chicago returns the first kick for a touchdown right off the bat. I’d bet those commentators were really hoping to see a good anti-perspirant commercial right about then.

Flo

National Health Care

As a nurse with a current license, I feel it is my obligation to keep my readers informed of the latest health care issues. As you may or may not be aware, National Healthcare has been a topic of discussion for some time now. Hopefully, the following FAQs (provided again by the CWO, who has no medical background whatsoever) will clear a few things up for you.

National Healthcare (HillaryCare) Questions & Answers

Q. With national healthcare, how difficult will it be to choose the doctor I want?
A. Just slightly more difficult than choosing your parents. Your insurer will provide you with a book listing all the participating doctors. The doctors basically fall into two categories—those who are no longer accepting new patients, and those who will see you but are no longer participating in the program. But don't worry, the remaining doctor who is accepting new patients has an office just a half-day's drive away and a diploma from a third world country.

Q. Do all diagnostic procedures require pre-certification?
A. No. Only those you need.

Q. Can I get coverage for my preexisting conditions?
A. Certainly, as long as they don't require any treatment.

Q. What happens if I want to try alternative forms of medicine?
A. You'll need to find alternative forms of payment.

Q. My pharmacy plan only covers generic drugs, but I need the name brand. I tried the generic medication, but it gave me a stomachache. What should I do?
A. Poke yourself in the eye.

Q. What if I'm away from home and I get sick?
A. You really shouldn't do that.

Q. I think I need to see a specialist, but my doctor insists he can handle my problem. Can a general practitioner really perform a heart transplant right in his office?
A. Hard to say, but considering that all you're risking is the $10 co-payment, there's no harm in giving it a shot.

Q. Who came up with this national health care thing?
A. Its roots go back to a concept pioneered by Larry of the Three Stooges who discovered that a patient could be made to forget the pain in his foot if he was poked hard enough in the eye.

Q. Will health care be different in the next century?
A. No, but if you call right now, you might get an appointment by then.

Flo

Flying Tip

I know, it's been a while, I'm surprised the Goddess hasn't left a comment. I've been cleaning or running around on errands for the house the last few days and can barely think straight. Or maybe that's see straight.

Whatever the case, I haven't had time to properly write or edit another post, so I thought I'd pass along this info for any of you that might be traveling this weekend.

You might keep in mind it came from a retired CWO I used to fly with. Aviators are in a class of their own, but I'm sure many of you can relate.

If you are sitting next to someone who irritates you on a plane or train....

1. Quietly and calmly open up your laptop case.

2. Remove your laptop.

3. Turn it on.

4. Make sure the guy who won't leave you alone can see the screen.

5. Open this page.

6. Close your eyes and tilt your head up to the sky.

7. Then hit this link: http://www.thecleverest.com/countdown.swf

I warned you.

Flo

Bail?

I arrived home this afternoon to what seemed like 50 gazillion phone messages. Most were questions about the house—Hubby is out of town today, which is the only time the builder calls to talk to me. (I cannot imagine why!) One was from Curves, calling to check up on me since I hadn’t been in to workout the last two days—we have a little group of regulars, especially for the power workouts, and some of them have been plagued by injuries or illness, so we get a little concerned if someone doesn’t show up.

One other call was from Holly, wanting to know if it was necessary for her to post bail. Bail??? I cannot understand why she would think I would need bail! I’m a saint, remember?

You see, my SiL, Lainy, flew into town yesterday. Her oldest son has been extremely ill the last several weeks, in and out of the hospital, including stays in the ICU. I have never heard of anyone as ill as he is with mononucleosis, which is what they finally diagnosed. It doesn’t sound like there’s an organ in his body that hasn’t been affected.

Anyway, Lainy had flown up to be with him when he was critical the first few days. She went back home when he was released from the hospital. He hadn’t been released long when he turned right back around and had to be admitted again. So when he was released that time, she was there to take care of him for a week or so.

It’s been so traumatic and stressful for her, that she knew needed Flo’s calm, soothing presence before she headed back home. So see? I don’t know WHY Holly would think we’d land in jail.

I COOKED FOR HER!! We talked, I listened to some horror stories—believe me, I’ll have nightmares about Chihuahuas named Pebbles, BamBam, and Asia for months! I gave her a shoulder to cry on. Ok, no I didn’t, we laughed our @sses off. We each only had one margarita. Of course, if you’d tasted them, you’d know why I slept so well last night!

Then again, maybe it was some kind of ESP thing or some such that made Holly check up on us. Deep down in that gray matter, she probably knows she and Lainy have quite a bit in common.

After all the time I’ve know both of them, I just found out last night that, although not the same year, they share birthdays!

Flo

Running Water!

Oh my, I don’t know if my heart can take it. I better go check my BP…..Yep, it’s in a decent range. I think the little orange pill I’ve been taking with the BP med is really the answer.

So, remember when I wrote that we had light fixtures in the house that actually turned on and off? Well, now I have sink faucets. And, when you turn them on, WATER comes out of them! Not only that, but I have flushing toilets! Dishwasher is installed, along with the garbage disposal, all the sink faucets, and bath/shower hardware. No hot water yet, but it shouldn’t take long for them to get everything finished up.

I am really pleased with everyone that’s been working on the house. The plumbers (except their supervisor), painters, electricians, framers. A lot of them have come in for the layout and general plans, and I usually tell them they’re the expert and ask what they suggest. I couldn’t be more pleased. Some of these guys are true artists. Some of the stuff our trim/finish carpenter has done is truly awesome. The kitchen cabinets are showpieces.

It’s really nice to see the final stages coming together. Hubby is working on grouting the tile this weekend, then that will be done. Carpet is supposed to be put down Monday—or Tuesday or Wednesday. Then trim carpentry, paint touch up, mirrors and shower doors, then it’s almost WA-LA time. One final appliance is due Thursday, and the fridge still has to be hooked up. But it is all so exciting!

If any of you ever consider building or having a house built, I have some really important advice and suggestions. But it will have to wait for another time. All this excitement is too much for me!

Flo

State of the Union

Did the President actually say anything the other night? I couldn’t tell because I couldn’t take my eyes off the squirming hag that was sitting behind him. She was utterly distracting. I thought about getting my wristwatch so I could time the blinks of her eyes, but I didn’t think she was worth the effort. But I’m thinking it was faster than one blink per second.

Why could she not blink her eyes like a normal person? Does she have some kind of eye affliction? Perhaps it was some kind of code. Or maybe she was trying to bat her eyelashes at some cute intern in the audience.

And that mouth! Goodness, someone needs to tell her it takes much fewer muscles to smile than to frown. Of course, that was when it wasn’t moving. She was constantly biting her lip, licking her lips, and generally looking unattractive.

It was so disgusting, I couldn’t help but watch for a few minutes. And that was long enough to notice she’s a disrespectful witch. She’s made no secret of the fact that she is going to fight Bush every step of the way. But if you’re on national/international TV, sitting directly behind the President, have some common courtesy. At one point, most in the audience, and the vice-president, were standing and applauding. That woman just sat there. How impolite and petty.

If, for some Godforsaken reason, I was ever given the opportunity to meet Clinton, I would have politely declined. Lying scumbag. Privately, I would have spit on his hand. Publicly, I would have been tactful, shaking his hand if necessary. Then I would have swooned, been loaded into an ambulance, and insisted on being sent to the nearest decontamination station.

However, I think a woman in Pelosi’s position should have faked it. (I’m sure you all knew that’s whom I’ve been talking about.) A politician should have no problem being cordial even to their enemies, but she didn’t even make an effort. As the Goddess would say: Pull up your big girl panties and deal with it!

Another vital detail I learned about the President’s address was the fact that he was applauded 54 times. According to my source, it was 76 times in 2002 and 77 in 2003, but those speeches were also longer. Evidently there wasn’t any applause in 2004-2006.

There you have it, folks—the pertinent details. Did I miss anything else?

Flo