Showing posts with label Dallas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dallas. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Oh, My . . .


By Mark W. Danielson

A group of passengers were enroute to LA for a Cinco De Mayo celebration. The flight from Dallas was rough until crossing the line of thunderstorms. After that, the white-knuckle ride was over. Seated in 7F, the approach into LAX was superb. The cold front had cleared the air, and the Hollywood sign was clearly visible. As the aircraft neared the ground, the power came back and then the plane wobbled. Suddenly, fingers began digging into arm rests and unfortunate companions seated next to them. The wing dipped left, then right, and then the plane landed with a thump. Except for one, “Oh, my”, the cabin remained silent until the aircraft cleared the runway. Soon after, the flight attendant announced, “Welcome to Los Angeles,” in as pleasant a voice as he could muster. The cockpit door remained closed while the pilots discussed the landing. In forty minutes, they would be pushing back to do it all over again.

Most likely, anyone who routinely flies on airliners have ridden through landings like this, and more often than not, base their flying experience on the landing. Most will never know or care about what it took to get this airplane to its destination. Passengers have no reason to know that the thunderstorms along their route would have ripped their airplane to pieces had the pilots not avoided them. Nor do they have any reason to understand how gusty crosswinds can affect the landing. But in defense of all airline pilots, I’m going to explain landings in layman’s terms.

For golfers, landings are like putts. You stoop down, evaluate the terrain, maybe toss a piece of grass to check the wind, and then take your shot. You have spent years practicing your putts and yet you still miss now and then. Nine times out of ten you can sink a three-footer, but then you just misjudge your power, wind, or slope and miss. Bummer. Better luck next time.

For bowlers, landings are like bowling strikes. If you’re consistent enough, you should bowl a strike every time. Plenty of people have done it, and when you think about it, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t. After all, there is no wind or terrain to affect your ball. Blame it on your shoe or the bowler in the next lane, but this time you throw a gutter ball. Hmm; not what you expected was it? Down another gulp and try it again.

For anglers, landings are like bass fishing. Experience has told you where the fish are, how to cast, and what hooks to use. You have won several tournaments because of your expertise, and yet this time, just as you lower your net to scoop your fish, it breaks away and leaves you with nothing more than a story. Oh, so close. Cast away.

For ice skaters, you have performed the same jump hundreds of times. You have won numerous competitions since you were eight years old in front of audiences large and small. And yet this time, your timing is off and you end up on your rear, much to your coach’s dismay. Tears flow as you await your score. No flowers this time.

I could go on, but the fact is every landing is a combination of skill and luck. Every airline pilot strives to make their airplane kiss the ground, but sometimes, the conditions are beyond their control. While pilots can manipulate their flight controls, they have no control over the elements. Gusty winds can affect an aircraft as much as human elements. The most important factor in airline flying is safety, and the most important aspect of a landing is touching down in the first three thousand feet of runway. If these conditions cannot be met, then the pilots are expected to abort the landing and try it again. So although every touchdown may not be perfectly smooth, realize that it was performed safely and thank the crew for getting you to your destination. Happy Cinco De Mayo. :)
Photo by Jeffery Groener

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Don't Mess With Texas


By Mark W. Danielson







I love Texas for its attitude as well as its landscapes. Texas is “The Lone Star State” because it was once the Republic of Texas. Paris, France, still commemorates the Ambassade Du Texas, 1842-1843, as shown in the photo. Interestingly, the Republic of Texas’ relationship with France was strong enough to warrant naming one of its towns after the City of Light. Love it or leave it, Texas is one unique state.

I spent many years living in Texas, and from its panhandle to the Gulf, Texans are full of pride. The “Don’t Mess With Texas” signs that dot its highways warn outsiders of its no-littering policy, but truthfully, this slogan is also an anthem. Where else but Texas would you find a semi-automatic pistol mailbox? ’Nuff said.

Writers love creating Texas characters because of their distinctive qualities. Movies and TV shows love to portray oil barons as rotund, boozing, loud-mouthed middle-aged men who wear cowboy boots, cowboy hats, and drive Caddies with bull horns on their hoods, and while I’ve seen plenty of Texas businessmen in boots and hats with their suits, I can’t say that I’ve ever seen a bull-horned Cadillac on the street. Now gun-toting pickups are a whole different animal, and they’re certainly not on the endangered list.

Because of its stereotypes, people may not realize that Texas has as much geographical variety as California, and along with its topography, its dialects can vary by city. Even towns that are physically close like Fort Worth and Dallas have completely different feels, so if you’re going to write Texas characters into your stories, you had better know what you’re talking about. You’ll find Dallas is as cosmopolitan as Chicago while Fort Worth rivals any cow town. I suspect that Fort Worth’s “Billy Bob’s” is where the country group Alabama realized that “if you’re gonna play in Texas, you gotta have a fiddle in the band.” Of course, some might compare Houston to Nashville because it’s turned out so many country musicians.

The point to all of this is that researching characters is as important as researching locations. Sometimes stereotypes are suitable, but most of the time they’re not, and thinking that Hollywood has done its homework is simply naïve. For example, when some Navy friends of mine spoke to the director of the movie Topgun about its inaccuracies, the director replied, “We’re not making a documentary.” While it’s true that fiction writers make up their stories, unless you’re writing fantasy, it’s best to keep your characters and locations believable. Doing so makes it easier for the reader to put themselves in the setting and become emotionally attached to your characters.