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A Conundrum

2009-12-04T11:00:00.000-08:00

Notice the "Do Not Turn Left" traffic sign.

Do you always obey the law?

A Music Lesson from Uncle Carl

2009-11-29T19:36:00.000-08:00

On Facebook, I posted this status:

Stephen T Wilson just enjoyed playing all kinds of songs as waltzes in 3/4 time.

Uncle Carl, an accomplished dummer, quipped, "Try them in 5/4!" (You who know Carl Glackin can totally hear him saying this.)

Something about Carl is, he'll challenge you to something that he, himself, can readily do. So, it must be possible. Not easy, but possible.

I tried, and this was my practice in reply: (6/8, then 4/4, then 5/4)

I was smug for a few hours. Until he wrote, "How about a swing feel in 7/8?"

This time, he offered advice: "Practice up on some swing stuff and you'll get the feel for the odd times. Listen to some Dave Brubeck!"

Here's Brubeck, 9/8 time with 2+2+2+3/3+3+3 phrasing:

I didn't make it to the piano to try. Not yet. Instead, I wondered off onto Carl's Youtube channel, and watched this at least twice. Enjoy:

It's a Small Reminder

2009-09-17T17:32:00.000-07:00

Over the years, dentists smoothed and repaired my chipped front tooth. Nevertheless, after a year or so, a new filling falls out every time.

I ultimately decided to leave the tooth alone and let it serve me as a reminder of racism. It was racial tension that broke my tooth in the first place.

On the school bus in about sixth grade, another kid, a black boy, was in the seat in front of me. I don't remember the exchange, but it resulted in him pulling my head into the seat rail between us. Whatever was said, it shut me up with a mouthful of tooth dust.

I don't blame him now, though I probably did then. He had good reason to be angry, good reason to resent my clean-cut neatly-dressed example of white privilege. Kids, including me, on this school bus were indeed cruel.

Eenea, meenea, mina, mo,
Catch a [n-word] by the toe;
If he hollers let him go,
Eenee, Meenee. Mainee, Mo

The house where this boy lived was a shanty in comparison to mine. Nothing he had, in possession, education, health care, or looks offered him any kind of opportunity or afforded him any hope of fairness on this school bus or in life. Where we lived, it was almost entirely white. And no doubt, this boy would continue in life to be disrespected and distrusted in any job, in any place, anywhere. It wouldn’t surprise me to find out he’s in jail now, never having been able to get along in the society that judged and denigrated him so.

I don’t blame him. I know how impulsively I’ve acted out, even recently, when I felt disrespected. And, the reasons for my anger are always so trivial compared to the life of disparagement this man has suffered. No, now that I know a little better, and I know some words are never forgotten; I’ll remember this ongoing sin of mine, my racist tendencies, whenever I notice my chipped tooth.

Singles are Important Too

2009-09-13T17:30:00.000-07:00

Though their parters had not returned for more than a month, something told me to keep the dejected socks.

I had foot surgery this month. Singles are important too.

Raccoons, Please Enter Here

2009-07-07T15:33:00.000-07:00

At my camp, there are sleeping quarters and a commissary.

Though the commissary was within earshot of my tent, security was minimal. Groceries were kept in plastic containers, and the tent was zipped.

Plus, at night, I sleep VERY soundly.

The first night at camp, I did awake to the sound of sniffing and heavy breathing outside. Yet, it was not enough to rouse me. Back to sleep.

The second morning, guess what. Trash was strewn everywhere. Darn if raccoons didn't break into the commissary and steal my hamburger buns and generally make a mess.

The devils didn't open the zipper either. They used an endowed seam ripper for more convenient access.

The third night, heightened security was in effect - weight on the grocery lid.

It was no match for the smart buggers. They scored two bananas AND another bag of buns.

The fourth night, top security:

The ruckus of the chain woke me this time. The persistent little turds had a bag of pretzels halfway pulled out of the container scattered everywhere. They scurried off, scared by my illuminated nakedness.

After three or more rounds of "get the hell outta here", and back in the sack, raccoons wanted the rest of the pretzels and ended the retreat.

They growled at me; and six feet away, I threw shoes at them.

Finally, I employed chemical warfare spraying so much bug spray around the commissary everyone was sorry. The sun rose about an hour later. It was the last night at camp.

Now that the tent is repaired, I have but one request should it ever happen again:

Squatter's Rights

2009-05-17T17:28:00.000-07:00

The real property in contention is my gas grill. I've not used it for at least a week.

In bird years, seven days constitutes abandonment.

I tried to ignore the consequence of evicting the adverse possessors; but seeing the clutch of eggs, it wasn't easy.

A notion to put the eggs under a light bulb teased my imagination. (I used to incubate chicken and duck eggs on a little farm I once owned.) The thought left me when I realized eventual constant trips between the yard and the nest to fetch insects for five little beaks would make me feel ridiculous. Never mind managing the cat.

Birds contested; still there is no bird law. So, shamefully I removed the nest and sanitized the grill.

It's still tragic. Confused birds return to the deck squawking anger and despair.

Hardened heart that I have, I grilled a steak and went dancing to forget it all.

Pondering Why Life Isn't Fair

2009-04-12T10:43:00.000-07:00

The ape skipped lunch at the Omaha Zoo yesterday.

Right before the murder, two fancy ducks landed above my head in the rain forest. Then as I looked into the otter exhibit, they splashed down before us. The wake hardly settled as a long shiny otter streaked across the exhibit and slipped underwater. Like a torpedo, it shot toward the ducks.

In a splash-fest, one duck flew, the other disappeared. The otter held the unfortunate duck underwater and towed it to the cover of a shrub where it chowed down on its flopping corpse.

We were involuntary witnesses of the whole ordeal.

Upon hearing the news, the ape sat down to consider his sadness.

A Sign of Springtime in South Dakota

2009-03-17T14:15:00.000-07:00

...is when snowpeople become irritable and sick of one another.

Saint Valentine's Day Hat Trick

2009-02-15T08:21:00.000-08:00

No, not an ice hockey hat trick - it was a Valentine's day hat trick. Like in hot air ballooning, geocaching. It'll make sense. Read on.

Here's Jennifer pretending not to be cold. (She's so very polite.) Notice the lovely knit hat.

Reading this, you are comfy warm. Jenny is standing next to a fan blowing 20°F cold air into the bottom of what's about to become a HOT air balloon.

Despite the cold, it was a lovely way to start this special day.

Can you notice what's different about Jenny now? She's not warmer...

She lost the beautiful knit hat.

It was like slow motion. Jenn looked up toward the top of the balloon, and as her head went back, off and overboard went the hat. We leaned over the rail helplessly and watched it fall away like a very expensive leaf. Unfortunately, it disappeared into a line of trees. There was no way to land or find it.

Jenny ~~went into this pathetic story of how the hat meant so much to her because it was hand knitted by an eighty-two-year-old dear friend~~ explained losing the hat wasn't a big deal because the balloon flight was so special to her.

The wondrous flight continued to the traditional Champaign toast. It was a nice day.

That night, I got to thinking about geocaching. Geocaching is an emerging hobby where people hunt for things using a GPS. I thought I could make my own geocache hunt. I'd use Google Earth to remember where Jenny's hat fell, locate the spot and program those coordinates into my GPS.

This would be my first geocache adventure! I could hardly wait for morning.

The coordinates - calculated and converted for the GPS turned out to be only 8 feet off! And THAT eight feet, I tell you, can be accounted for by the height the hat was in the tree! MY calculations were perfect! PERFECT!

Jenny poses near the Controlled Hunter Access Point, nearby where the hat was found.

The hat truly was special, fashioned especially for Jenn by eighty-two-year-old Dorothy.

The landowners came home to find us popping another bottle of Champaign in their driveway. Fortunately, they welcomed the intrusion and joined us in the happy toast.

Anna's Animal Collection

2009-01-04T16:26:00.000-08:00

The kids were visiting this weekend and met Kitcha for the first time. Anna added to her collection of ~~stuffed~~ animals.

Funny thing is, Kitcha has been so well-behaved lately. Something about all the stuffed animals has her thinking...

No More Junk Mail for Me!

2008-12-22T12:21:00.000-08:00

The deed is done. I finally did it!

Land-line telephone - gone! (a long time ago)

And NOW - Now, thanks to internet bill-pay and email, my US Mailbox is GONE TOO!

GONE!

NO MORE PILES OF JUNK MAIL FOR ME!

Now, calm down, horrified blog reader. I still have an address. The mailbox is still there. I just modified it a little.

I cut a BIG hole in the bottom of it...

....and mounted it on a trash can!

Just think of my invention as a sophisticated two-stage mailbox and sorter, all in one.

No more trips from the mailbox to the trashcan for me!

ps. Send* Christmas cards, birthday cards, love letters, and money to my office address as follows:

Stephen T. Wilson
2522 West 41st St., #310
Sioux Falls, SD 57105

* According to my mailman, packages will still be left at the front door. That is, unless they're small enough to fit in the mailbox; in which case use the above address for them too.

Thank you for the understanding.

My Answer to the Economy

2008-12-17T07:22:00.000-08:00

No matter the time, season, weather, or economy. I intend to keep selling Cessnas.

People always used to ask me, "Steve, did you play basketball?" (because I'm tall)

Now, I'm asked, "So Steve, how's this economy affecting your sales?" (I'm so sick of this question.)

Call me naive. But, I start every day to this song!

$89! Vacation Here!

2008-12-15T06:11:00.000-08:00

For eons, people traveled west across the land we call South Dakota.

As usual, this weekend I'm mixing business and pleasure. I'm headed west too.

Along the way with my fancy cell phone (I-90 is a very long straight road) I checked Facebook to see what friends posted and checked my email.

Sure enough, Mary Beth wrote:

Tonight is the biggest full moon of the year! Let me know how it looks from your place on the globe! SW--you especially, seeing as you are in big sky country!

Lucky me! It was about twilight. And, as Mary Beth said - the biggest, most awesome full moon appeared to the north.

Unlucky me! I had a brush with the law.

(At this moment, we were both on camera.)

"Sir, you may only stop in an emergency."

But, this was an emergency. There would only be a few short minutes to witness and photograph the rare perigee moon. "Please, forgive me."

He did. Click here to see the photos.

It got better. The twilight view of South Dakota's open prairie and badlands was spectacular. Fortunately for you, you were not along to listen to me sing the bass part to Lone Prairie over and over.

I stopped and took this movie for you though. Enjoy listening to the Lone Prairie tag with me just this one time:

I'm telling you. I really enjoyed myself. I can watch this over and over. It's hypnotic.*
(* Warning. You know who you are. ˙uoıʇɔnɹʇsuı ʃɐuıɯıʃqns ɐ s,ǝɹǝɥ⊥)

I stayed at the Bullock Hotel, downtown Deadwood, and walked next door to the No. 10 Saloon. Being alone and all, no dance partner, I invented my own fun. Me and my YouTube camera:

I sat at the doorway between the front and back part of the saloon and carded people who had already been there. (I thought this was pretty hilareous.) A couple hours later, I walked back to the hotel unscathed.

On Saturday, I visited great friends and customers while the weather turned ugly. Really, I thought it was quite awesome.

Then, it did turn ugly. That night, I had this queer dream about shopping at an open-air flea market in Pasadena. Overnight, the South Dakota Interstates closed.

It was ugly in an awesome kind of way. Interstate 90 re-opened about noon.

That's right. MINUS 15° Fahrenheit! And the wind was 40 mph.

This gas pump was actually frozen, but I did manage to pump 5 gallons in 15 minutes.

The cattle tried to find the way to the downwind side of this billboard. See, even the sign blew off.

Hmmm, I'm starting to realize why airline tickets from L.A. to South Dakota cost only $89.

Six hours later, I made it to Sioux Falls in time for Mark and Kay's Christmas party.

But, that's another story....

There Are TWO Things I Do NOT Like to Do

2008-12-01T07:14:00.000-08:00

1. I do not like to jump into a cold swimming pool. And,

2. I do not like to give blood.

However,

1. My kids like to swim with Dad. And,

2. I have type O-negative blood.

O-negative is the blood type sent out on the ambulance and helicopter because it can be given to anyone.

I am also qualified as a "baby donor". What's special about that?

As few as 1% of adults can donate blood to small children in emergency rooms, newborn and unborn babies. The hospital needs 4 "baby donors" each week. Since the red blood cells are separated from this blood, the hospital can only accept baby donations Monday through Wednesday.

To be accepcted as a baby donor, an adult must be blood type O-negative and test negative for Cytomegalovirus. It's reported that only 7% of US adults are universal donors having O-negative blood, and according to Wikipedia, Cytomegalovirus infects between 50% and 80% of people over age 6 in the United States. The older the person, the higher the probability of testing positive.

It's nice to be wanted and needed.

An Emergency Door to Nowhere

2008-11-28T08:23:00.000-08:00

...at Chicago Midway Airport.

Oh No, It Snowed! And, Somebody Stole My Pickup!

2008-11-08T07:20:00.000-08:00

The first snow, November 7, 2008, and I'm outta here!

I'm driving to Omaha, Nebraska, this weekend for two reasons: 1) to see the Rat Pack at the Orpheum with my friend Sara Pirtle, and 2) to work. I will show an aircraft (this one) in Omaha then fly it back to Sioux Falls for another demonstration Sunday where I will keep it until it's sold.

Great! It's warmer in Omaha. I can work, see a show, even attend a dance workshop. Perfect.

Sara recommended I stay at a place called, The Carlisle Hotel, since there is an attached place called Papa Joe's where members of the Omaha Swing Dance Club like to West Coast Swing to live bands.

Before I could leave Sioux Falls, I had to complete an aircraft sale with a customer who flew in from Washington state. It took hours longer than planned, so I arrived in Omaha - just in time - to find my hotel room and head immediately out to the dance workshop at 7pm.

The Carlisle is convenient, but not a classy place. I parked right outside Papa Joe's, the attached bar. I quickly found my room, and when I went back out to bring in my luggage, my pickup was gone! GONE!

Did I absentmindedly park somewhere else?

My mind WAS distracted when I arrived....

Engaged on the phone when I parked, I remained occupied with thoughts of that call when I ran to find my room. I know I parked, right there!

Why would someone move my pickup?! I left everything, including the keys in it.

This place is shitty.... ......I really think it's GONE. Traffic everywhere. It's GONE. Should I call the police?

My laptop was in there. Damn.

I walked the parking lot, still hoping; that unconsciously I moved it when I was still on the phone. No... I know I parked - right over there!

Walking into the lobby to call the police, I realized.

I rented a one-way rental car. My pickup is in Sioux Falls, right where I left it.

This is my life.

The Gentle Lady

2008-09-27T08:40:00.000-07:00

The Gentle Lady remote controlled glider is a small wonder of aviation. I think you'll agree...

This is the skeleton of the Goldberg Gentle Lady. I bought this model kit at a yard sale for $5 and carried it around for 20-some years. During Christmastime 2007, it came to life.

Here we are today with the Gentle Lady, Anna, Adam and Jacob. The glider has a wingspan of over 6 feet and weighs only 24 ounces.

The Gentle Lady does not have an engine. It only glides. There are three typical ways I like to fly it: toss it by hand from the ground, launch it with a Hi-Start, or slope soar.

Here is an example of a slope from which to fly near our home. It's at a sand-pit:

A the wind blows up and over the slope, the upward direction of the wind on the upwind slide of the hill ascends faster than the glider descends. Pretty cool! Watch this example, below:

Another method to launch the glider is the Hi-Start:

It consists of 100 feet of rubber tubing attached to 350 feet of nylon string. It's attached to a stake in the ground at one end and to the Gentle Lady on the other. It's like a giant sling shot. Below, see Adam reeling out the Hi-Start downwind across the field.

Here's the Hi-Start in action:

And another flight:

So, did you wonder what that thing was strapped to the top of the nose in the first Hi-Start video? Well, we get bored easily and thought it fun to attach a GPS for telemetry.

This is what we learned: Top speed during launch was 27.5 mph. The highest altitude reached on three GPS-equipped flights was 222 feet above ground level (AGL).

Uploaded to Google Earth, here is the 3D trace of the three flights. Trace each of the flights starting with the staight slanted upward High-Start launches and the circles down:

Check out the Google Earth telemetry of our glider flights yourself. Download it here!

Did I mention we get bored easily?

So, now, let's rubber-band our Casio digital cameral to the bottom of the wing. Hold on!!

Jacob accomplished his first solo today! Great flying Jacob!

KSOO Interviews Steve Wilson on Cory Lidle Cirrus Crash NYC

2006-11-12T06:07:00.000-08:00

Listen or download here.

Omaha's Kent Pavelka Interviews Steve Wilson about the Airplane Crash that Killed MN Senator Paul Wellstone

2003-12-08T05:48:00.000-08:00

Omaha radio personality, Kent Pavelka, interviews Steve Wilson about the tragic aircraft accident that killed Minnesota Senator Paul Wellstone.

Download and listen here.