That’s my sad slug for flying under simulated instrument conditions, night time flying, and doing recoveries from unusual attitudes. When combined, these three activities equal some serious fright (yes, it’s a sad pun, but deal with it).
Simulated instrument flying is flying around with a “hood” or view limiting device on your head so that you can only see the instruments in the cockpit. That leaves me with no idea where I am and following the directions barked out by the CFI behind me. It is a bit disorienting to fly this way as I feel lost and a bit off kilter the entire time, but it is to remind me not to ever fly into clouds or other instrument-like conditions.
Next up is night flying. This is a bit similar to the instrument flying, but you can kind of see lights and the outlines of stuff on the ground. The challenge is, at least in the Bay Area, that there are these pesky mountains that get in the way of your airplane. So it is very easy to fly into one (or a cloud) at night. And landing is a bit of a trip, also, since it involves heading for a dark spot in a town with only a few lights around the edges of the runway with no real depth perception.
Finally we have recoveries from unusual attitudes. It is exactly what it sounds like: the plane gets into some state where it is climbing, banking, stalling, or falling in a way that it shouldn’t, and then I have to do the right things to get it out of this condition. But the way you get into this sad state is the kicker: I am asked to close my eyes, take my hands and feet off the controls, and put my head down towards the floor. The instructor puts the plane through some violent maneuvers and then says “look up” and I have to fix it. All the while, my brain and inner ears are telling me that things aren’t what they appear to be and I have to learn to trust the instruments in front of me and not just what I’m feeling.
This training, along with the cross country trips, supposedly moves me closer to the final testing and sign off for a private pilots license. Let’s just see if I can make it through the next few recoveries without losing my lunch.
I realized today, for about the hundredth time, that there is just way too much hype, marketing, and slickness and not enough reality around Apple and its products (and storied product launches). I mean for crying out loud, this is a computer company that is at 5% world wide market share. 5%! To put that into perspective, how much do you care about Via’s CPU’s (about 1% share), SiS’s GPU’s (about 3% share), or Polaroid’s HDTV’s (about 4% share). These are all examples of others who play third fiddle in their respective markets, just like Apple does in the PC market.
Since the launch of the iPod and now the iPhone, people suddenly have this unrealistic expectation that the 5% really doesn’t matter, and that whenever any new product arrives (Apple TV or Mac Mini, anyone?) it is the greatest thing ever created. Today is no exception, with a line refresh of the iPod products being heralded as practically the second coming of the technology universe. I just don’t get it, and perhaps I never will.
Some people will call me an Apple hater, and to an extent, that’s fair. But when your sole mass-market contribution to modern society is a portable music player and bloated music software client, can I help but be anything other than cynical? I can applaud Steve Jobs for his tight, consumer focused marketing and unbelievable press “reality distortion field”, but at the same time I feel sorry for those innovators who work around him, who are invariably cast aside, ideas crushed, as he marches ahead with his deity-like world view.
I really should just end a review on the title, as that says it all. I was rented one of the little PT Cruiser’s today and I honestly don’t know who would want to own one. Window controls on the center console? Terrible ergonomics where you have to lean into the passenger seat to change the stereo? A completely unusable adjustment for the seat height and steering wheel positions? And don’t even get me started on the sadness that is the engine (I call it the little engine that can’t, but wishes it could).
Granted, all of this is just from the drive over from DIA to the hotel in downtown Denver, CO. Maybe I missed something earth shattering that would have made me love this vehicle. But if you never get a second chance at a first impression, I’m calling this first experience with the PT Cruiser completely busted. It is, to paraphrase a friend and co-worker “utter rubbish.” Now I understand why Europeans (especially the Brit’s) laugh at American made cars. So sad.
I finally found the final straw, the thing that sent me over the edge and made me get rid of AT&T after so many years of suffering. AT&T (the wireless provider) decided that…
1. my phone no longer will work on their network
2. that my calling plan is not what they want to provide any longer
3. that the new plan they wish to offer should cost much more
4. that I should pay for both a new phone AND a two year contract for the privilege of keeping their company
This, then, would be the final chapter in the long and torrid tale that has been my business arrangement with AT&T (or Cingular, or AT&T Wireless, or Cellular One, take your pick). Rather than attempt to work with me on a better plan, the ability to remain month-to-month (as I have been for years), or to allow me to reduce to a lower plan without the two year commitment they flatly told me that it was their way or no way.
I took no way, and now for the first time in many, many years I am cell phone-less. While I press on with my search for a better phone and a more tolerant provider, I give you the latest incarnation of the AT&T logo to ponder over.