Bates Motel

Bates Motel

Did you watch Bates Motel on A&E?  It's a prequel to Hitchcock's masterpiece movie, Psycho.

The premiere episode of Bates Motel last night was cinematically brilliant.  I don't know enough about the visual arts to know who's responsible--the writer, the director, the producer--but he or she is a genius!  The show is set in current time, yet it's a prequel to a movie that's more than 50 years old.  How is that going to work, exactly?

The answer is working brilliantly!

I don't think you would notice how it works if you weren't paying attention. 

I also read books, novels, while paying attention to the mechanics of the story.  So I was paying attention.

Norman and his mother, Norma (I don't think we knew her name in the movie, did we?) Bates move from Arizona to start over.  The location isn't specific, but I assume the road trip is on the Pacific Coast Highway.  Mrs. Bates bought the property that is so familiar to us who've seen the movie.  We find out that the house at the top of the hill was built in 1912 (and apparently not much updated since then) and the motel was built in the '50s.  (Duh, obviously.)  The previous owner of the bank-foreclosed property comes back to make threats.  The pretty girls of the high school flirt with Norman, and they all text each other on their smart phones and one of the girls drives everyone in her new Mercedes convertible.  All very present day.

The show feels very modern yet very retro.  Retro yet current.  How is that possible?  Like I said, brilliant!  The old house, obviously, feels old.  Norman does his homework while listening to vinyl on a huge '60s console stereo.  The lighting of many of the scenes seem slightly tinted.  Not sepia but maybe a hint of yellow, just enough to suggest age.  Norma and the school teacher wear clothes that are not vintage, but hint at a retro style.  Norman wears a crew-neck sweater.  Isn't that what he wears in the movie?  Nothing overt, but your subconscious picks up the retro feel, and translates it in the same way that your brain translates to vertical what your eyes see if you are lying horizontal on the couch watching television.  It makes more sense by using the familiar (smart phones, calling 911, the economy) than if "they" (director, writer, producer??) had tried to keep the prequel time-accurate to the 1960 movie.

There are subtle references to the familiar movie, too.  Remember why Janet Leigh finds the Bates Motel so deserted?  Bypass--no one comes by anymore.  In this episode, there is notice for a town meeting to discuss building a bypass.  And we didn't know before that there's an older brother, Dillon.  We don't know exactly what happened to Mr. Bates.  I bet we find out.  I can't wait to see how Norman discovers taxidermy.

The story line for the next seventeen episodes has potential to turn violent and silly.  I hope not.  I hope it spans all the years between now and the movie.  I'll be watching.

But I'll still be watching for the way the old morphs with the new to give this series its current retro, vintage contemporary mood.

I'm hooked.

I've Never Seen THAT Before!

I've Never Seen THAT Before:  30 Years as an Air Traffic Controller

            A decade ago I trained a student air traffic controller.  There must have been a job somewhere in the world that Ron was suited for, but air traffic control wasn't it.  His favorite excuse during training debriefing was, "I've never seen THAT before!" 

            There is always something we haven't seen before.

            The key is to put two and two together of what you know and come up with an answer that makes sense.

            I've been an air traffic controller at St. Louis Downtown Airport (CPS) for over thirty years, and no two days have been the same.

            When the weather is bad (low ceilings and/or low visibility) pilots approach the airport and land following flight paths based on radio beams.  Specific procedures with altitudes and headings to follow are published.  A bird's eye view of the path would show a path toward the runway and a cross-section or profile view would show descending altitudes in a path that looks like a slide on a playground.  A minimum altitude to start the "slide" is published for safe obstruction clearance.  If a pilot is on the "path" or the "slide" below that minimum altitude, the radar sounds a "low altitude" alarm and the air traffic controller must issue a safety alert to the pilot immediately.  If a pilot follows the "path" and "slide", at a predetermined altitude and point over the ground, s/he should see the runway.  If s/he does not, there is a prescribed procedure for climbing and turning to safely manuever back for another try.  At St. Louis Downtown Airport, the altitude to start the "slide" is 2100 feet, and the altitude to climb for another attempt is 2200.

            One dreary Saturday recently, a military Gulfstream was being directed by the radar controller to the "path" to land at CPS.  A Gulfstream is a large, business-type jet.  Though smaller than an airliner, a Gulfstream is the cream of the corporate airplane crop.

            Waiting for the pilot to transfer to my frequency, the computer generated a low altitude alert.  I transmitted "in the blind":  Low altitude alert, check your altitude immediately, altitude indicates 1900; altitude at [the slide] is 2100.

            The pilot responded that he needed a climb.  As I obtained a heading from the radar controller for the pilot to fly, the pilot started climbing.  3000 feet.  3500 feet before I could tell him the heading.  He was now above my airspace and at altitudes that airplanes inbound to Lambert International Airport typically fly.  He was at 3800 feet when I gave him the heading, and despite instructing him to not climb any more, he was climbing like a homesick angel.  He needed to talk to the radar controller, and I told him to do so.

            My heart was in my throat as I watched on the radar screen as he reached 7000 before he leveled out at 6000.

            Visualize merging onto a busy highway and cutting across four or five lanes of traffic without looking.  You might get lucky and there would be no one in those other lanes.  But chances are you'd hit another vehicle.  Climbing blind through several altitudes used by other aircraft is very similar.

            Once again the pilot lined up on the "path" and "slide" and was able to make an uneventful landing.  After landing, I asked him for a report of his flight conditions. 

            He said, "Tell the radar controller that we really, really, really appreciate his help.  We hit severe turbulence [on the "slide"] the last time and we had to climb out of there."

            Yikes!  Straight from the Aeronautical Information Manual:  "Severe turbulence causes large, abrupt changes in altitude and/or attitude usually accompanied by large variations in indicated airspeed. Aircraft may be momentarily out of control. Encounters with severe turbulence must be remedied immediately in any phase of flight."  No wonder he started out too low and then climbed like a bat out of hell.  It was miraculous that no other airplane was in the airspace.  Since that day, I've watched the radar screen on Saturdays at the same time of day, and there are ALWAYS airliners descending from 5000 to 3000 feet in the area where that Gulfstream was.

            Thirty years and I've never see THAT before!  I told the pilot, "You deserve a Klondike Bar."

Stan "The Man" Musial--Let's Name a Bridge

I love Stan Musial even though his Cardinals career was long over long before I became part of Cardinals Nation.  Yet, I love him.  I can't remember who said it, but this is the reason.  He played in St. Louis and he stayed in St. Louis.  He didn't thumb his nose at the city and fans that adored him, like some well-known Cardinals have done.  Even Ozzie, who played here and stayed here, let his squabble with Tony LaRussa come between him and the fans.  One of the local sportscasters told a story yesterday about one time when Stan and his partner in their restaurant were in the back room and the phone rang.  The partner answered it and it was Lil and she was clearly NOT happy.  The partner handed the phone to Stan and only heard that half of the conversation, which was all, "Yes Dear, yes dear, yes dear."  Stan hung up and told his partner, "I guess I told her, didn't I?"  What a guy.

You may or may not know that "they" are building a new bridge across the Mississippi River that will be the I-70 bridge through St. Louis, crossing a few miles north of where I-70 crosses now.  There's been a lot of posturing and blah-blah-blahing about what to name the bridge.  (God forbid it's called the I-70 bridge!)  It has to be named AFTER someone.  Most of the names already suggested have been politicians' names, surprise surprise.  Adding to the kerfuffle is that the bridge is being built with money from Illinois AND Missouri, so both governments have to agree on a name.  You can guess how smoothly THAT's going.  So, what about naming it after one of the most beloved baseball players from ANY team?  Who could argue with that?  (Rhetorical question, don't tell me if you think of someone.)

There's a petition going around, I think started by the media monster KMOX, to go to the governors of each state, requesting that the new bridge be named for Stan the Man.  Please consider going to the website and casting your opinion.  If you're, as they say, not from around here, please feel free to pass along the information to baseball fans you know where you are.

Stan Musial not only united both sides of St. Louis Metro area but united the nation with his respect for all and kindness to others.  He is a role model for all.  Daily commuters and occasional travelers would do well to remember these values (honesty, integrity, respect) that Stan lived his life by as these drivers traverse this bridge.  It's right that this honor should be given to someone who earned it by living his life the right way and not due to political reasons or merely because someone is a politician.  Mr. Musial will be remembered long after most politicians are long forgotten.

Let's all sign this petition for the new bridge:
http://stlouis.cbslocal.com/kmox-petition-to-name-new-mississippi-bridge-in-stan-musials-honor/

KMOX Petition to Name New Mississippi Bridge in Stan Musial’s Honor - CBS St. Louis

stlouis.cbslocal.com

The new Mississippi River Bridge is still nameless, although much of Cardinal Nation agrees naming it after Stan Musial would be a great way to honor the beloved baseball player. READ MORE > Do you [...]

or
www.kmox.com/stan

And just added via the Cardinals Rally Squirrel Facebook page:

http://blues.nhl.com/club/news.htm?id=652401
Blues to Honor Musial at Sunday's Game

Players will wear Musial 6 jerseys during warmups, which will be auctioned

Friday, 01.25.2013 / 10:57 AM /

The St. Louis Blues will honor Stan "The Man" Musial before the Jan. 27 game at Scottrade Center.

All players will be wearing Blues jerseys with "Musial" and "No. 6" during pregame warmups. Jerseys will be autographed by each player and auctioned.

Proceeds from the auction will benefit Cardinals Care and the St. Louis Blues 14 Fund.

The Blues will host the Minnesota Wild at Scottrade Center on Sunday at 7 p.m. Warmups begin at 6:30 p.m. All fans in attendance will also receive a Magnet Schedule courtesy of Pepsi.

Bucket List

First of all, I hate that term, bucket list.  How did that become so popular?  Things to do before you "kick the bucket."  Please.  I mean really.

I subscribed to Rachel Ray's magazine mostly because I had some bonus points from something else I bought.  It's mostly too frou-frou for me; I mean, who keeps oak bark twigs or eggplant root just lying around the pantry?  Or else every recipe involves about 256 steps.  Who has time for that?  Well, maybe Martha Stewart.

But the most recent issue has a bucket list challenge.  I've actually done a lot of these things and other interesting things in my life.  Get wet at Niagra.  Check.  Jumped out of an airplane.  Check.  Driven through a redwood.  Check.  What else is on Rachel's list?  See Alaska's Northern Lights.  I would check except it was overcast every night I was in Alaska.  And Manitoba.  Eat a fish you've caught yourself.  Visit North Pole, Alaska.  Take a bite out of Route 66.  Have a drink at a hidden bar.  Check check check and check.  Go on a pot sticker crawl in San Francisco's Chinatown.  Semi-check.  Rachel Ray recommends three restaurants for awesome pot stickers in San Francisco's Chinatown.  I love pot stickers and I love San Francisco's Chinatown.  I may have to make a trip to combine both.  I've been to or through all 50 states, visited eight foreign countries on three continents.  I've had awesome corn soup at a Chinese restaurant in Winnepeg.  I've see polar bears close up in Churchill, Manitoba.  I've stood at the highest point in North America in Barrow, Alaska.  I've stood at the westernmost point of England in Lizard and the southernmost point in Land's End.  I've straddled the prime meridian in Greenwich, England.  I rode a camel in Africa.  I got sunburned in Spain, where I also rode a burrow.  I've swum in the Pacific Ocean (Hawaiian side) and both sides of the Atlantic.

There are still things that I want to do before I die, though.  I've wanted to do these things for a very long time.  (I refuse to call it a bucket list.)  And I've told very few people.  Before now.  I don't know why--probably from some misplaced sense of fear of mockery leftover from high school.

I remember having four significant things on my "Someday List".  That's what I call it.  As in, "Someday, I'm going to..."  I can't remember one of them now, so I guess it wasn't so important.

1.  Learn to blow glass.  I've always liked those frilly, fancy knick-knacks that they sell at the mall and tourist-y places like Old Tucson.  I had almost given up on this dream/goal because blowing glass is very hot work, and heat is not friends with multiple sclerosis.  But I've found out there are sort of at-home kits that use propane that maybe I can look into.  And there's a glass gallery right here in River City and a friend of mine blows there.  Maybe I'll get to do some yet!

2.  Play the marimba.  When I was a preschooler, my babysitter was my "third grandmother."  I even called her Grandma Olsen.  She had a marimba, and when she played it, it was like an angel choir.  It was even more special because we kids (her real grandchildren and I) knew it was not a toy and we were not allowed to touch it.  That same marimba belongs to Grandma Olsen's daughter now, who still plays it in church some day.  I've offered to buy it from her when she doesn't want it anymore.  She will entertain the idea if none of her children or grandchildren wants it.  I'm counting on them not wanting it.

3.  Have a wax portrait of myself at Madame Tussaud's.  (They don't call them statues.)  I LOVE wax museums, ever since we went to one in Washington, DC, in 1965 as part of our World's Fair vacation.  Madame Tussaud's is the best, and it's on my must-do list every time I go to London.  Or New York.  Okay, so haven't done anything splashy enough to warrant a likeness in wax in the best museum ev-ah.  Yet. 

I'm Baaaack!!

I've been neglecting you, my dear blog.  Well, that has to change.  I'm reminded, however, about a friend of mine.  I guess former friend since I haven't heard from him in a very long time and my calls, emails, and letters have gone unanswered. 

When I first moved here, I went to some kind of hangar party to meet some of the aviation community.  I met another pilot that I became friends with before I knew he was a big-time, well-known, local radio personality.  We had an on-again, off-again relationship for many years.  (I guess we're in the off-again stage.)  It came as a big shock to me and bigger shock to him when his contract was not renewed one year.  He became the program director at an oldies station until that station changed format and he was again out of a job.  He eventually ended up in talk radio.  I remember the time I talked to him not long after that gig started and he revealed that "to be in talk radio, it turns out you have to have something to talk about." 

I have a blog; it turns out I have to have something to blog about.

Judging by my grade school teachers' reports to my parents, talking was never my problem.  Having something to talk about, that is.  It was a problem because I did so much of it in class. 

Talking, blogging.  Shouldn't be a problem.  So here I go.  (I still can't figure out how to add a picture, though.)

It's a new year; it's a traditional time to make a resolutions.  I don’t want to make it a resolution, but it's a new year, a new start, and a good time to start doing new things.

Speaking of new year, new start, and start doing things right, this is what happened last year right about this time:

I'd been working part time at the airport administrative office for about a year.  My primary duty is mind-numbling boring, so I welcome any change of scenery.  One such change is amassing the monthly operations report, which includes information on aircraft movements and aviation fuel bought and sold at the airport.  The services on the airport that vend fuel report (to me) how many gallons they bought during the month and how many gallons they sold to the public.  Last January, the report for December from one company indicated zero gallons of regular (non-jet) fuel sold.  That seemed highly unlikely to me, so I emailed the office manager of the operator to question it.  His answer was that there was fuel in the tank left from November, so they didn't buy any during December.  Okay.  I emailed him again.  Same result.  We emailed back and forth a couple times (it IS the 21st century method of communication after all) before I finally picked up the phone.  We had the same conversation until he finally said, "I was told the numbers are always the same."  In a flash, I glanced at the "fuel purchased" column (which is not a number I deal with) and flipped through the previous few months' reports.  Sure enough, the number in the "fuel purchased" column was always the same as the number in the "fuel sold" column.  Now, I realize that the coincidence of selling EXACTLY the same amount of fuel that was purchased might happen one month in a decade, don't you think anyone in about third grade would know that it doesn't make sense for these amounts to be the same?  I explained the difference between "buying" a supply and "selling" gallons at a time to customers and why it's unlikely to be the same every month.  He got really defensive, pointing out that he was told to do it that way four years ago when he started the job and he's "always done it that way."  Squelching a heavy sigh, I said, "Well, it's a new year, new management [there], a new administrative assistant [me], so let's just draw the line and start right now with doing it the right way."   A new year is a good time to make everything fresh and new.  I guess the new management felt the same way because there was a new office manager sending me the numbers the following month!

This new year, someone put a picture on Facebook (I have no idea where it originated) of a Mason jar filled with scraps of paper and the caption of, "This January, why not start the year with an empty jar and fill it with notes about good things that happen.  Then, on New Years Eve, empty it and see what awesome stuff happened that year."  And this new year, we're going to do this at our house.  I don't know about the guys, but I've already put THREE things in the jar!  J  I think this is very cool.  Plus, it'll give us something good to do while we're waiting for midnight so we can take our sip of champagne before heading to bed at 12:01. 

Oh, and according to Firestone, it's also time for new struts and new anti-sway bar and timing belt in my little orange car, new shocks in the truck, and new brakes in the HHR.  At least our new house has a garage where Gary can do the work

Happy NEW year to us.

Cranky Today

Today I am cranky.  Not crabby.  There's a difference.  It's a fine line, admittedly, but still a difference.  Cranky is grrrr; crabby is waaaah.  Cranky is feeling grumbly and it's short term.  Crabby is bad attitude and it can be chronic.  Today I am cranky.

In the middle of a crab to hubby this morning, about what I don't even remember, if flashed through my mind how much I love him and my partner in the next room and the dogs at my feet and the cat in the doorway.  I thought about that all the way to work and about how I've fallen out of touch with some people, mostly because it's just life getting in the way.  Every day I think tomorrow will be less crazy than today and I will have more time to catch up on letters and emails.  But every day dawns more hectic than the day before and in a blink of an eye a week, a month, a year, or even more has gone by.  What if something happens to me?  How will everyone I care about know that I care about each of them? 

I decided to send an email blast to let everyone know.

This is what I sent:

I'm cranky today.  In the middle of a rant earlier I thought about how much I love my family and pets and how much my friends mean to me.

At Easter, I decided to make some baskets for my coworkers using flight progress strips.  Strips are light card (probably 65 lb paper) that are about 1 X 8 inches.  The computer spits them out for airplanes that are departing or inbound on a flight plan.  We have a lot that get thrown away.  I thought it would be easy because they're uniform size but it turned out to be harder than I thought to make them weave together and hold together and shape them together into something recognizable and usable.

I was thinking about how all of you are woven together into part of my life.  Some of you are true blue friends of long standing and some are more than acquaintances with whom I am friendly and some are somewhere in between.  But each of you is important to me, and even if I don't communicate as often as I should, I think about you more than you know and appreciate that you're a part of my life.

I'm not trying to be all sappy but I really value the part of you that is woven into the basket of my life.  I just want you to know that.

Have a good week!

Diane

I wasn't anticipating the responses from some of those near and dear friends and some of those far and away friends.  Some people apparently thought I was being moribund, but I'm just cranky.  Now I feel like it sounds like I was fishing for compliments!  The responses do indeed make me feel sappy and happy with affirmations of love and friendship!

 

Who knew that what I wrote could be cathartic as well?!!   I heard from a friend who lost her beloved dog last week.  I heard from friends from my support group.  I heard from a friend who hopes I’m not still in "rantnation."  I like that.  I DO visit rantnation regularly!  I heard from someone who took a basket weaving class once (although I'm not sure that was the point of my email).  I heard from a fellow pilot who pointed out the days (weeks?) of rainy, dreary weather would make anyone feel cranky.  Maybe there's something to that.  Not to mention dreary weather plus co-worker headbutting equals cranky.

And so it goes.

Government Shut Down

4-7-11

The politicians are at it again.  If an agreement can't be reached on the budget, the government will shut down at midnight Saturday morning.  Am I the only one that notices that fiscal year is October?  So why have they been arguing about this for over six months and why is it critical NOW?  And not three months ago or three months from now?  It only comes to mind today because of how it will affect me.  As an air traffic controller, we're essential personnel.  Well, Jason, my supervisor mentioned to me today that because I'm on pre-approved leave for the weekend, I won't be considered essential so if the government shuts down I won't be paid.  Hrumph, figures.  Bonus:  I will have an extra day of annual leave to use another time without using it now.  Minus:  I will be on LWOP.  That's leave withOUT pay.

4-8-11

It dawned on me on the way home from the conference when CNN news (on KZQZ) mentioned furloughs for Federal Park Service employees if the government shuts down.  Oh, now that would affect St. Louis because the Arch is run by the Park Service.  Now THAT is something we can all care about.