Trails in the Sky

It was a summer’s day, warm and just a bit muggy.  We were playing in the fields behind the house in the Holt Development of Hyde Park.  I don’t recall exactly what we were playing, but Cowboys and Indians is a safe bet.  Of course in today’s world if we were playing Cowboys and Indians half of us would have to be dressed in Langoti.  But I digress.

Anyway, we were running, shooting our cap guns, hiding, running and shooting all over the place.  I don’t think anyone was actually killed, and I don’t even think the neighbors, if they were aware of this massive on-going conflict, actually called the police to come arrest us for unnecessary gunplay and violence.  We just continued to wage war on each other, changing sides and fortunes as the need arose.

But it was during one of these epic battles that I happened to look to the sky and see an Air Force transport pass overhead.  Soon another flew by, and then a third.  I stopped, in awe of the aircraft, and the trails they were laying out behind them. Today, I know they were C-123 Providers, and they were probably spraying pesticide for mosquitos.  It was probably not the best of places to be, but fortunately I don’t think I have come through that encounter any the worse for the experience, just the opposite.

That was my awakening to a world that would someday become my home.  To look down on the land from the flight deck of a cargo aircraft and see it pass as we flew low over the ground to bring relief supplies to those in need, or to infiltrate behind the enemy lines to drop off Special Forces, or just fly to practice flying.  We had an expression in those halcyon days of my early career.  “If God had wanted man to fly he would have been born with green baggy skin” like the flight suits we wore.

It is now almost sixty years since I looked up.  A lifetime has come and gone, and I will be forever grateful to those airmen who laid out the trails for me to follow.  They helped shape a world where time and space shrank, where frontiers reached the heavens, and technology took man to the moon.

I can only hope that in some small way I marked a trail for others.

Changes

Life is full of transitions, each one presents challenges, each one offers rewards.  Recently, I've had reason to consider the next transition in my life.  The professional life I've know since graduation from college is drawing to a close.  Each day I see the divide between my view and the views of both my subordinates and superiors widen.  I don't believe they are wrong, any more than I believe I am right, both are shaped by experience, and theirs is different than mine.

So, as Roy Rogers once said to Dale Evans, "should we stuff Trigger, or just bury him?" I am now beginning the transition to retirement and the uncertainties that word brings.  As I read fairy tales to my grandchildren I think how nice it would be if my fairy godmother would wave her magic wand and remove the doubts and fears.  Have I saved enough?  What will I do to fill my days?  Where will we live?  These, and a hundred others float through my noggin as I sip my coffee.

My training has taught me how to handle these uncertainties -- first in a priority and then in the ability to affect the outcome.  For example, the best time to lower the landing gear on an aircraft is before landing. Doing so after landing never has a positive outcome on the overall effort, so as I spend the next year in this transition I know I will address each of my challenges so come retirement day I can step into the new life.

What is Equality?

I was reminded today that somepeople feel victimized when they are not selected for promotion or tenured positions at rates they believe equal that of their male peers.  It took me back to my early days in the Air Force when I heard similar complaints by a minority.  Officers who were not afforded opportunity to command, and in turn were promoted at a lower rate then their peers.  While it would be easy to believe this was just another manifestation of racial bias, I am referring to a discrimination that had nothing to do with the color of a man’s skin, but rather the shape of the crest on his wings.  At the time the argument was public law forbid anyone but a pilot from commanding a flying squadron.  Navigators were second-class airmen not capable of commanding combat units in the Air Force.  As in all discrimination it took a number of events to change and there was resistance along the way, but as with the integration of blacks or women, it did.  I am sure we will see a similar change as we incorporate the skills and service of today’s newly recognized minorities.

But that is not what I want to talk about; it is about how those affected deal with the issues and climate before them.  What I saw from my peers were individuals taking one of three approaches to the restrictions we lived under.  Some accepted their lot in life.  They would grumble about the unfairness of the system, but make no effort to demonstrate they were better than those they flew with.  Others would rail against the restrictions to a point they would eventually separate from the service complaining they were treated unfairly.  Finally, others would go quietly about being the best officers and airmen they could with the expectation their hard work would be recognized and rewarded. 

I look back on my career and I have to admit I had tremendous fun.  I didn’t start off too strong, I was happy just to be flying.  But about the time I was a mid-level Captain I came to realize I could compete with anyone.  I never really got the first choice in my assignments, but I always got the best assignment for me.  For example, I wanted to move to Europe and the AF sent me to Japan.  I wanted to stay in Special Operations, and the AF sent me to instruct in Navigator School.  I wanted to come back to the 8^th SOS and ended up in a specialized planning group.  But over the course of my career I learned to build teams, lead men and woman; never make excuses for my performance, or wonder why I was where I was.  I never worried about how I ranked against my peers; I just did the best I was capable of at whatever job I was given.  All of this has played out to make me who I am today.  I think more people would be happier if they would learn to make the most of their choices and worry less about what was going on with their peers.

Now back to what started this.  It is funny the hugely liberal academic establishment goes to such length to maintain their status quo, yet at the same time rail about how society needs to change to conform to what they are teaching their students.  How in our cloistered institutions of higher learning do we actually force the idea of equality of opportunity so that promotion is truly based on performance and not social networking? 

What separates us all from equality is natural selection.  Some are smarter, stronger, politically astute, or more charismatic than others, like it or not that is true and inescapable.  Should everyone have an equal chance to be what they want?  Assuming equal ability it is easy to say yes, but we are never completely equal in life so what is the right answer?  

My one piece of advice to anyone who would listen is; life (or work) is a puzzle those who figure out how to make the pieces fit together succeed.  Those who don’t -- complain about how unfair the system is.  Learn to be a problem solver.

The Reward for a Job Well Done is More Work!

I am beginning to realize why bureaucrats are the way they are.  In my military career I was taught to strive for excellence.  The cost of failure was too great not to.  Now that I am just a paper pushing bureaucrat I have attempted to carry that same ethos to my job.  I rise early, I am in before I am obligated to, I work until after I am obligated to and I seem to do a pretty fair job at the tasks assigned me.  I've never been wed to the 40 hour work week -- it was all about getting the job done.

As I complete my assigned responsibilities I look around and it does not appear I am the atypical employee.  We have people who spend their day surfing the internet, chatting with friends and families on the phone, and making sure they are, at the minimum, in their car when their 40 hours comes to an end.  These people are given jobs, they perform those jobs and then wait for someone to give them another job.

What I have found is when I exceed expectations, my boss congratulates me and puts me on to his next pet project.  I seem to have 60 hours of stuff to cram into my 40 hours.

Funny thing, when I retired from the Air Force I looked forward to a more relaxed life.  My goal was to drive the monorail at Disney World, but they wouldn't answer my requests for an interview.  Right now that monorail looks pretty inviting.  At least I would know what direction I am going in.