A Shiny New Object

Today, 7-8-07, Boeing rolled out the 787, their first all-new airliner since the 1994 introduction of the 777. Boasting a 20% increase in fuel economy, a 65% increase in passenger window size, and a 400% increase in internal humidity (no, really), the 787 represents a remarkable technical achievement. However, far and away the most extraordinary thing about the airplane’s coming out party was the fact that someone at Boeing was drunk enough to consider me, not to mention my boss, Brett, "Very Important". So Very Important, in fact, that we had badges reading "VIP", and found ourselves in the 10th row for the ceremony.

Yesterday, a group of us from the Flight Simulator team attended a "rollout eve" celebration at the Museum of Flight at Seattle’s Boeing Field airport. The event called for a dress code of "business casual", which people with real jobs define very differently than those of us at Microsoft. To us "business casual" means "shoes on". To the rest of the world, it means "jacket and tie". Men’s Wearhouse stores around the Puget Sound region saw a nice uptick in sales as we scrambled to prepare.

We attended both as invitees, and as staff, demoing Flight Sim to airline executives and others from around the world. Right up until the time that the good stuff started, that is, at which point all of our monitors mysteriously powered down, and we went outside to see something that had never happened before: one of each of Boeing’s "7-series", posed together for photos.

First to arrive, naturally, was a 707, flying past at 7:07PM. While there was a great deal of speculation that the 707 involved would be the one owned and flown by former Sweathog John Travolta, that was not the case. This particular aircraft is owned and operated by Omega Air Refueling, the only civilian organization authorized to engage in mid-air refueling. Technically, the airplane would then be the world’s only KC-707, but not a KC-135, since it is equipped only for drogue refueling, and has no "boom". It was loud and the engines were smoking like guests on the Dean Martin Show as it flew overhead just like a big ole jet airline-o is supposed to.

After that, another airplane arrived every ten minutes – a 717 (which counts, honest), followed by a 727, 737, 747, 757, 767, and 777. The large  digital clock setup for the attendees even read 7:67 and 7:77 instead of 8:07 and 8:17, a gesture straight from the "nice touch" department. It’s also worth noting that the 747 that took part was the Rolls Royce testbed for the 787’s new Trent engine, and carried one in the #2 position, letting us see at least part of a 787 airborne. 

Each of the jets did a flyby (actually, since the airspace hadn’t been waivered for display flight, and since low approaches aren’t permitted at that particular airport, each jet legally did a "go around") and then landed. Upon landing, each airplane taxied past us in review, then parked, each successor nosing up to the tail of the airplane in front of it, like dogs getting acquainted.

The next afternoon, I met up with one of our contacts from Boeing’s marketing department at the Westin hotel in downtown Seattle, and joined a group of other (read: real) VIP’s on a bus to the Boeing factory in Everett. Like just about every other event we’ve attended together, this one really didn’t begin until I found myself in a golf cart racing to meet Brett who was trapped at a gate by rightfully unsympathetic security officers. But that’s likely another story.

It is a strange thing to be led along a red carpet through the largest building in the world, especially as we were ushered past thousands of people who had actually built the airplane we came to see. Our seats were in the 10th row of a venue that seated something like 15,000 people. The show featured live music (including an ensemble of musicians that blew something from every continent – the Australian actually shook the place – again, the largest building in the world – with his didgeridoo), some live and prerecorded video cutaways, and a few surprisingly concise speeches by Boeing executives. The master of ceremonies was none other than master of gravitas Tom Brokaw, whose resonant baritone filled the space, nearly outdoing the chap with the didgeridoo.

If you’ve never attended or seen a new aircraft rollout, it is a dramatic event, full of both pomp and circumstance, though, admittedly, I’ve never been to any event without circumstance. It is equal parts revival meeting, sales pitch, and old-world coming out party.  When the moment finally came, the back of the stage (actually, oversized factory doors) split in two, and the daylight streamed in abruptly, unwelcome at first, like an uncle you can’t stand until you’ve had at least one glass of merlot. Then, the belle of this particular ball was brought gracefully into view to sustained applause.

Once the doors were open, we were free to walk past the stage and out into the azure afternoon, and take a good close look. It really is a pretty airplane, though at first glance, it doesn’t seem to be much of a departure  from the tube-with-two engines paradigm that has served so well for so long. Then, once you’ve taken in the basic shape, you eyes start to find a few details – the slender and graceful slope of the nose, the scalloping of the trailing edges of the engine nacelles, and, most of all, the way that form playfully chases function all along the impossible compound curves of what is certainly Boeing’s most elegant wing.

Generally speaking, I prefer airplanes with a lot more history behind them – anything with an electrical system is usually both too new and too fangled for my tastes. But, as modern jetliners go, the 787 is well positioned to become my favorite, likely eclipsing the prettiest so far, the 757, and, if one may be forgiven for blasphemy, the Airbus A340. It’s worth pointing out that I was conspicuously not invited to the rollout of either of those aircraft, so it is certainly possible that I may be a tad biased.

Irregardless, to use the vernacular of the peasantry, it was a great day for Boeing, and certainly a great day to be someone that Boeing mistakenly thought was important. We will all certainly be watching for the first flight with great interest.

Posted in Fly-y | 4 Comments

A Delicate Sound of Blue Thunder

Have I no shame?

Actually, I do, but I’m about to squander the last of it away like Jack giving away his cow, without even some magic beans, much less their subsequent beanstalk, to show for it.

I collect DVDs, and have a weakness for certain types of movies and television shows. Sometimes, my standards can actually be fairly high, tending toward well-written dramas, comedies-of-manners – "Careful there, Vicar", "Very droll, Bernard", that sort of thing.

This isn’t one of those times. Not even close.

No, in this case, I’m admitting to enjoying something terrible. Why? Well, because it has a rather surprising amount of good flying in it. Before Michael Bay gave us Pearl Harbor, before Tony Bill gave us Flyboys, flying scenes in movies and television shows were usually real, and, thus, good. If scenes weren’t shot for that particular title, then you might see stock footage. If it was faked, it was usually faked so horribly with models that it was worth watching anyway.

In short (though it’s already way too late for that), even the worst production can still have some disproportionately good flying bits … Audiences may forgive bad actors, writers, and directors, but aircraft will almost never forgive bad pilots.

Which brings me to my confession, naming something I’ve been trading a bit of sleep for the past few nights: Blue Thunder: The Television Series.

I know that some of you are saying "No, no … Blue Thunder was a movie! You’re thinking of Airwolf, with Jan-Michael Lizardskin!" 

(Those poor souls among you who found this post on my site when Googling "Finland" are saying something like "Hän olen I tähän? Nyt kuluva says ei ensinkään jokseenkin Suomi!" To them I say, with all sincerity, "Me puolustella ajaksi epäkäytännöllisyys.")

Sadly, I’m right. Blue Thunder was a television series, spun off from the movie of the same name. Difficult as it may be to believe, of the Blue Thunder-inspired helicopter shoot-em-up series, Airwolf was … the good one.

For those that are just joining us … The original Blue Thunder film, released in 1983, starred Roy Scheider as LAPD pilot Frank Murphy, Daniel Stern as Richard "JAFO" (Just Another F****** Observer) Lymangood, and Malcolm McDowell as Col. Cochrane, clearly a villain because he dressed well and spoke with an accent. The plot followed Murphy and Lymangood getting assigned to fly the titular chopper, portrayed by an aesthetically modified Aerospatiale SA.341G.  In the film, the new helicopter represents a dramatic shift in thinking for police air support: in addition to the usual Nightsun spotlight and near-useless PA for yelling at people, it is armor-plated and armed with a 20mm cannon that shoots something like 6,000 rounds per minute. In addition, there is a lot of real-sounding surveillance equipment, a massive onboard computer – some kind of aerial ENIAC, and magic switches that can make the helicopter go really fast, and make the rotors really quiet in "whisper mode".

The movie follows Murphy and Lymangood as they put the helicopter through its paces, blowing things up, dogfighting with the bad guy, and, naturally, using whisper mode to spy on the nice lady in the high-rise apartment who does her yoga without wearing any clothes. Once the token nudity is out of the way, all the cool flying is done, and there’s nothing left to blow up, Murphy has  a crisis of conscience. He discovers that the cannon on the front of this helicopter is not simply designed for crowd control at the upcoming Olympics, rather, it’s meant to actually kill people! Naturally, he destroys the helicopter, thereby saving Los Angeles from turning into a fascist mini-police-state.

Fast forward about six months, and here comes the television version. In the series, a second helicopter has been built, and is being operated under the auspices of some kind of shadowy government organization called APEX or something similar that I didn’t really care about. Skillfully ignoring the pesky ethical and political issues raised in the film, the second Blue Thunder is used in the show by and with the LAPD for the sole purpose of blowing things up.

The pilot this time is Frank Chaney, played by James Farentino, and JAFO (now a "Frustrated" Observer) is Clinton Wonderlove (8 years before the president of the same name was first elected here in the US), played by a pre-Saturday Night Live Dana Carvey. They’re supported on the ground by a unit called "Rolling Thunder", which is a big van that seems to have nothing in it but a slightly smaller camouflaged truck, and two ex-football-players-turned-cops played by ex-football-players-turned-something-like-actors Bubba Smith and Dick Butkus.

Every episode is exactly like every other episode, and, in turn, just like every other show in the mid-80’s from the likes of Stephen J. Cannell and Donald P. Bellisario: Bad guys that you saw most recently on either The Love Boat or Fantasy Island or both do bad things. The hero, a chip-shouldered iconoclast with a check-kiting ego wants to go after them, but he’s held back by bureaucracy, pencil pushers who want it all done by the book. He follows his gut, goes after them anyway, and blows them up, and his bosses begrudgingly admit that he was right all along. Everyone grins, plucky JAFO gets turned down by the pretty blonde behind the desk yet again, and … freeze frame.

So what makes it worth (and I use the term carefully) watching?

Well, as it happens, Blue Thunder returned to the LAPD just in the nick of time – suddenly, everyone who commits any sort of crime, somehow finds a reason to use an armed (and fairly unusual) aircraft. Whether it’s bank robbery, smuggling, assassination, kidnapping, or some kind of shady mob accounting, a dogfight is inevitable, once a week. I’ve seen Blue Thunder shoot down an F8F Bearcat, an OV-10 Mohawk, a couple of Long-EZ’s, an F-86 Sabre, the late great Art Scholl’s Super Chipmunk, and a van full of clowns.

Unlike the airplanes, the clowns, naturally, had it coming.

But good flying is good flying, and, I’m forced to admit, in this case it is largely well shot. The fact that the producers spent all of their money on avgas and Jet-A and none on writing is almost forgivable, if only to an airplane geek.

The show only lasted eleven episodes – so far, I’ve lasted four. I’ll most likely make it all the way through to the end, unless I get distracted in the meantime by my boxed set of Air America: The Series.

Blue Thunder – The Television Series is awful, really. Go buy it.

Posted in Egocentric | 20 Comments

Inattention to Detail

Is unlike me. Details are really all I have.

In the second episode of one of my personal favorite television shows of all time, Futurama, characters in the year 3000 rediscover the original Apollo 11 lunar landing site while visiting the moon.

I was disappointed, however, that they showed the LEM as it was on  landing with the ascent stage still attached. The ascent stage was, as one might surmise, the bit that ascended … it’s how Neil and Buzz got back up to rendezvous with Michael Collins in the Columbia Command / Service Module.

In other words, the silly cartoon people got it completely wrong, making me feel slightly smug, but also a bit disappointed that an otherwise surprisingly intelligent bit of programming would stumble like that. Thankfully, at that time I had just about 30 years’ experience being disappointed by television, so I felt prepared.

Then, something remarkable happened. Just as I was about to wave my hand and dismiss the whole thing as rubbish, putting the "mental" in "judgmental" as I am so often wont to do, they cut to a scene inside the lander …and I realized that I’d been completely and utterly had.

You see, there was a sign in the background, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it plaque that read "Lander returned to this site by the Historical Sticklers Society."

I loved that they caught it, acknowledged it, and even sympathetically pegged me in the process. They got me, and I’ve loved the show ever since.

How poetic (and by "poetic" I mean "unforgivable") then, that I, of all people, would make an Apollo-related mistake in an article posted here (and elsewhere).

Thanks to my new friend and fellow Historical Stickler (and I mean that in the best possible sense) Tom who pointed out my mistake when he sent me the following mail this morning:

Good day and a great job on FSX !

(I found your blog via its articles)

A quick point regarding your post of April 12, 2007 "The Feeling is Mutual" :

Bill Anders was the LMP on Apollo 8 (though sometimes credited as the CMP.)

Frank Borman was the CDR, and Jim Lovell was the CMP.

This in no way is meant to diminish the nature of his contribution to mankind’s first voyage from the Earth to the Moon.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apollo_8

Regards,

Tom

I’d blithely branded my friend Bill as the Commander of Apollo 8, which was clearly incorrect – as Tom points out, graciously, Bill was the Lunar Module Pilot. I’d like to think this sort of oversight to be out of character, but I’ll leave that for others to judge.

Needless to say, I’ve corrected the original post and will do the same with the other copies that are floating about.

My sincere thanks to Tom for straightening me out, and apologies to Bill and the rest of his crew for the inadvertent reassignment.

Mea Maxima Culpa!

Posted in Egocentric | 21 Comments

If You’d Like to Learn More About Finland …

Why not ring Mr. Griffith, of Hemel Hempstead?

However, if you’d prefer to learn more about my recent trip to Canada, have a look at my latest piece on the FSInsider website, right there on the Internets.

Posted in Fly-y | 8 Comments

Happy 30th, Apple II

My friends (and bonus extra family) the Flints were early adopters of the idea of being early adopters. Among the many ways they changed my life when I was wee, in addition to showing me the first VCR I’d ever seen (and condemning me to a lifetime of obsessive movie collecting), they also gave me my first hands-on experience with the electrical thinkin’ box known as the personal computer.

It was, naturally, an Apple II. It ran at 1MHz, had 4K of RAM, and graphics resolution of 40 x 24, showing two colors. No matter how many orders of magnitude more powerful personal computers (and game consoles and cell phones and refrigerators and watches) are today, nothing in my lifetime has quite equaled that jump from nothing (no computer) to something (a computer) – from zero to one, as it were.

It’s extremely difficult to believe that 30 years have gone by. I have friends that are younger than that. Real, dear friends, not just kids that are barely driving and sporting letterman jackets with embroidered graduation years that make me scowl, but actual thinking adults with their own credit cards and keys. The first generation that has never known a life without personal computers. The best that they’ll be able to do is dimly recall the dark ages when their computers weren’t all connected to each other.

I remember being completely, pardon the pun, transported by the hours we’d spend exploring space and blowing up Klingons (sometimes called Klarnons for legal reasons and represented in near photo-realism by the letter "K" in a grid) in AppleTrek. These were the days long before hard drives, even before diskette drives, when you had to load programs using a cassette drive. Cassette drives used regular audio cassettes – small plastic boxes with gears and about 8 miles of fragile magnetic tape that were normally used to record music. They were just like blank CD’s, except for the moving parts, poor quality, and the fact that they sounded progressively worse with every play.

Anyway, cassette drives allowed users to store programs and load them on demand, provided that one could anticipate that demand about 45 minutes in advance, 90 minutes if it was important enough to try again if it didn’t work the first time. It was eventually proven that using a cassette was actually slightly faster than simply rewriting the program every time you wanted to use it.

As it happened, the long load times were actually one advantage I had to not owning one of these machines myself. All I had to do was make a phone call – "Erik – I’ll be there in an hour. Start loading AppleTrek now. Yes, now!" – and that was that.

By the time we got computers in school (originally reserved for those of us in a special class), I was already off and running – I had a head start on the head start. I had so much experience under my belt that I actually dared suggest that one of the games we’d play in class, Lemonade, was boring! I may have been the first slightly disaffected computer geek in all of western Washington.

A year or two later, we got our first computer at home, an original IBM PC, followed almost immediately by my first copy of Flight Simulator, and it’s been there ever since. But it all started with the Apple II,  and a supremely generous family. A lifetime of interest was born, like so many of the best things, out of the smoldering wreckage of a Klingon (or Klarnon) battle fleet. Or at least a series of blank spots formerly occupied by the letter "K" …

Check out eWeek’s article on this bit of history.

Posted in Egocentric | 2 Comments

Meanwhile, Back in the Present

Last week, I spent several days in 1941, flying the aircraft that were the backbone of Canada’s British Commonwealth Air Training Plan. At more than 230 sites, "the Plan" trained 131,553 aircrew from four nations. Had this not all taken place nearly 30 years before I was born, I suspect that I would have been one of the "draft dodgers in reverse", the more than 6,000 Americans who "fled" to Canada to learn to fly and fight in the days prior to Pearl Harbor. I might even have been persuaded to leave my belov’d Tiger Moth behind, if it meant a turn in a Hurricane or Spitfire.

Tragically, about the time I was tasting the life of the vintage Royal Canadian Air Force, a real pilot in the modern-day Canadian Forces Air Command, Capt. Shawn McCaughey, lost his life and his body was brought home. McCaughey was killed in a crash just three weeks before his wedding while practicing for an airshow with the Canadian Forces Snowbirds in Montana.

Even when I was a kid, long before I found myself with a second life as an honourary Canadian, the Snowbirds were my favorite (favourite) team. There was something about seeing 9 airplanes in the air at once, as opposed to the US teams with their 6, that was always remarkable. The Snowbirds have flown the same aircraft, the CT-114 Tutor, since their inception in 1971. Unlike the frontline fighters of their US counterparts, the Tutor is a low-powered trainer, with a relatively low top speed of just 470 mph. The Snowbirds routine is much more about finesse and energy management than it is about speed and raw power, since their 40-plus-year-old airplanes have so little of both.

Anyone who has never seen them perform should try to catch one of their appearances during the remainder of their 2007 season, which the team has dedicated to the memory of Capt. McCaughey.

Posted in Fly-y, Thoughts | 2 Comments

Going Solo

Regular readers and astute photo album perusers will recognize my ongoing love affair with old airplanes, in particular, the de Havilland Tiger Moth.

This is not the story about how, after more than thirty years of wanting, I found my way into a circle of friends-turned-family who who got me up and flying in Moths, then a full-on checkout. That story is coming. This is simply a slice of breaking news.

I’m in what a dear friend refers to as "my belov’d southern Ontario" as I write this. Before I came on this latest trip, I got my US pilot’s license validated by Transport Canada, in effect giving me a Canadian licence as well. This means that when I go up with my friends here, and they let me fly, I can be pilot-in-command.

And, as the title (stolen with all respect from Roald Dahl) suggests, just a couple of hours ago, in the last light sky before sunset, I flew a 1941 DH82C through a couple of circuits as sole occupant.

And I didn’t break anything.

Here’s to the dreams that don’t end in disappointment. 

Posted in Egocentric | 24 Comments

Another Hero, Gone

It was just a month ago that I had the exceedingly rare pleasure of shaking hands with Mercury/Gemini/Apollo astronaut Wally Schirra, and I’ve just learned that he passed away last night at age 84. He lived a remarkable life, to be sure, and he’s earned his rest.

The Earth is a poorer place today, as, this time, he won’t be coming back.

Posted in Thoughts | 1 Comment

I Read the News Today … Oh Boy!

While I’m still not entirely sure how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall (or even how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Brand Tootsie Pop), I do know this: the newly re-re-launched FSInsider website is finally live!

Give it a look. Or don’t!

Posted in Flight Sim Centric | Leave a comment

A Blue Angel Gone West

Photo Courtesy of the Aero-News Network

With all of the tragedies in the news of late, the loss of something so stalwart, so seemingly indestructible as a Blue Angel seems somehow unusually poignant. As of this writing, the Navy hasn’t released the aviator’s name – it wouldn’t be difficult to determine, but that, along with every other minute detail of the crash, will be widely known soon enough. (Click the image for Aero-News’ unparalleled up-to-the-minute reporting.)

For now, we mourn the loss of a symbol of courage, of optimism, and of strength. We mourn the loss of someone whose skill and expertise, and those of the giants upon whose shoulders he stood, represent a pinnacle of achievement.

Most of all, we mourn the loss of someone who, perhaps better than most of us, understood what it is to fly.

Posted in Fly-y | 3 Comments