The "I Hate to Blog" Blog

I discovered last night just how many books and other study guides you can fit on a king size mattress.

Check that. I discovered last night just how many books, other study guides, MacBook Pro’s and DOGS you can fit on a king size mattress.

I spend a lot of time in bed. Well, technically ON the bed not IN it. And not for the two REALLY obvious reasons that people are in bed: watching “The Tonight Show” and reading the Sunday paper. (Well not so much “The Tonight Show” since Conan O’Brien took over.)

Last night, however, was the night before the big test. And I was WAY behind the power curve and knew it. So I dashed home after work prepared to do nothing else but review the material, fill in the little dots on the test form and then settle down for a long winter’s nap, even though it’s only September.

I gathered the 40-plus pounds of books, maps, charts and other reference materials and plopped them on the bed making sure to choose the ones undoubtedly containing the answers. I gathered the unused-to-date flash cards as well, figuring that if I went through these while I was working the test questions, I would be able to reinforce my learning.

But not until I took a power nap. Just a quick one.

So I closed my eyes and relaxed. My eyelids were already heavy during the commute home, so there was absolutely no problem relaxing.

I was awakened with sloppy dog kisses as Chloe, the smallest of the three, decided to join the other two on the bed. But not, of course, without her official greeting and demand for affection. Of course, she trampled across the flash cards and sheets of paper scattering both about the duvet. (There! I’ve finally done it. I’ve worked the word “duvet” into a casual sentence. I think I’ll pat myself on the back for that one.)

Once I got Chloe settled in her little bit of mattress real estate, I sat up, opened the test booklet and dove in again. I should mention here that I did some of the questions earlier at an undisclosed location, so I didn’t have to start from scratch. There were three or four questions from earlier which I had serious trouble understanding. And they knew it. Those were intimidating questions. I could hear them laughing and mocking me from inside the test booklet. Just as I turned to the page on which they were printed, I could hear them say to each other “Shhhh! Shhhh! Here he comes – act naturally!” and reminding me just how half-baked this test this really was.

Out of fifty questions, I answered most correctly from memory. I also double checked my answers against the printed materials, and then corrected the ones I missed. But these last few questions weren’t going willingly. No sir, they were going to withhold their answers as long as they could until reinforcements arrived.

One was a question of logic involving altimeter settings, and I won’t bore you with the details. But when I thought about it, not only was it painful, but for some reason, my brain went into a do-loop (as opposed to a loop-de-loop) and I just couldn’t see the answer clearly. I got the math right on the first try, but the “why” of it was escaping me.

The others were all regarding classes of airspace and reading maps and charts.

I can’t tell you how many times I scribbled “RTFP!” (Read the effin’ problem) next to the offending questions in a futile attempt to force the demise of ambiguity and rescue the truth from among the other two “answers.”

But it was not to be.

Even though I will pass the test, it was a humbling experience which reminded me why I hated college. I never studied then and I flunked out of both the math and the physics departments. And just like in college, I tried to take the shortcut to the solution by relying on my own perspicacity rather than the tried and true method: studying in advance.

So I am still a little confused about airspace and altimeters. But it’s become painfully clear to me that old (study) habits die hard. The truth is, I’m a lousy student and to succeed at this course, I will have to… let’s say modify my habits so that I can prevent the desperation of an exam.

But learning is supposed to be about rescuing the truth, isn’t it? Finding the correct answer? Seems as though I rediscovered the truth about my study habits, another lesson I’ve learned that wasn’t in the course syllabus. One I could have remembered and avoided.

Seems as though I had the answer to THAT question all along.

Let me start by saying that yes, I’m still having fun at ground school. But at times, I think my poor little brain has exceeded its capacity to store and retrieve information.

But back to the subject at hand. Women intimidate me. It’s true. I see a tall, gorgeous hottie (Or even a short one. Ok, ALL of them.), and I break out in a cold sweat. I stammer and stutter my way through conversation when all I REALLY want to do is just stare. And drool. But we’ll leave out the description of mucosal secretions for another discussion.

Since Ground Lesson #5 last night, all of the hot women of the world are now safe from being covered in Dan drool. I found something far more intimidating than y’all.

Airspace.

Yes, airspace.

What I mean by “airspace” is the classification of various areas in which aircraft operate. It’s different over airports. It’s different over open terrain. And it’s different around big cities. But that’s just the beginning. For each of the six (if memory serves) classes of airspace, there are nine requirements which must be strictly observed for EACH of the six classes. (Enough of the memory crap – I had to look that one up.) It makes for a chart that’s obviously nine by six, or 54 different things to memorize. And that doesn’t count the “except on alternate Tuesdays” or the “if the weather’s crappy, this doesn’t apply.” Oh, no! No such luck that it would be simple and straightforward. I don’t know why I would expect such simplicity from an agency of the federal government, but that, too, is another discussion.

Ok, I can do this. I can memorize this. I’m not THAT old yet. Flash cards – yeah, flash cards is the way to do this!

Shit.

You mean I have to be able to APPLY this to charts and maps, too?

*sigh*

Sidebar: When I lived in Los Angeles, I had the good fortune to live next door to the Penthouse Pet of the Month for September, 1992 or some such. For the first months I lived next door, every time she walked past the kitchen window in full model regalia, meaning short-shorts, heels and a clingy tank top, I’d drop whatever was in my hand. I’d just forget I was holding on to a plate full of spaghetti and meatballs and down it went, the victim of both gravity and my own hormonal imbalance. I was in the pool one sunny California afternoon, and when I looked up after diving in the water, there she was lounging luxuriously at water’s edge in a Harley Davidson one piece bathing suit. I was stuck in the water until she left. Damn good thing it was cold water, too. (Didn’t help at all that her bedroom and mine shared a common wall.) Anyway you get the point.

Trying to figure out airspace is much more difficult than talking to my neighbor would have been had I ever worked up the nerve to talk to her. The study of airspace redefines “difficult” for me.

Here’s an example: “Generally, if the airspace is not Class A, Class B, Class C, or Class D, and it is controlled airspace, it is Class E airspace. Class E airspace extends upward from either the surface or a designated altitude to the overlying or adjacent controlled airspace. When designated as a surface area, the airspace will be configured to contain all instrument procedures. Also in this class are Federal airways, airspace beginning at either 700 or 1,200 feet AGIL used to transition to/from the terminal or enroute environment, enroute domestic, and offshore airspace areas designated below 18,000 feet MSL. Unless designated at a lower altitude, Class E airspace begins at 14,500 MSL over the United States, including that airspace overlying the waters within 12 nautical miles of the coast of the 48 contiguous States and Alaska. Class E airspace does not include the airspace 18,000 MSL or above.”

And a partridge in a fucking pear tree. (And I thought the thousand-page-plus Health Care bill was hard to fathom.)

So hot women of the world, here’s to you! It’s been nice and it’s been fun, but you’ve been replaced. You’re no longer the most intimidating thing on the planet. I can deal with you now. But let not your heart be troubled: this won’t last long. Because once I get the hang of airspace definitions, I have no doubt you’ll be returned to your rightful place at the top of the “scares the shit out of me” list.

That’s because once I understand airspace, it won’t be a problem anymore.

But I’ll never understand women.