Jan 22, 2010 - Traveling Home!

Sitting in Salt Lake City at the Airport, Terminal A. I did my best to find a hidden corner where the noise and hustle was not so prevalent. I am lucky to have seats vacant on either side of where I am sitting. It allows for the illusion of seclusion. Coming home from Boise Idaho after another training course. It is a necessary evil at times to attend these trainings which will allow me to further my capabilities. This one, S-375 Air Support Group Supervisor training, was a 2 1/2 day training that I spent way too much money to attend. The tuition alone is $350 and add to that a plane ticket, hotel, meals, and a rental car and I have dropped another $600. I know that it isn't my money, the Government is picking up the tab, however when you are given a "shoe string" budget to operate a crew of 10 people on every penny counts. This training is important to me, but being on the back side of it I can honestly say that the training was a bust. Yes, I did get a certificate and I suppose that is what most would consider to be the important part of attendance, I on the other hand expect to be taught something useful. What I got for the money spent was 2 1/2 days of instructors fumbling their way through power point presentations that were prepared as part of a "canned" course put together by the folks with National Wildfire Certification Group (NWCG). I expect these Instructors to have a vast knowledge of the course material and an understanding of how to present it in a way that communicates to the majority of the classroom participants. I expect that they take the time to go through what NWCG provides them and I expect that they not only know what is provided but consider different ways in which to present it. I got none of that! Some would say that I walked away with the most important part of the class, the certificate. I disagree, I want to walk away from the class with a greater knowledge of position requirements, than what I walked in with. Otherwise, I should just go through the powerpoint on a computer and print out my own certificate... and I could do that without having to pay for it.

So here I sit in the SLC Airport waiting on my flight to Cedar City. I am anxious because I know what is waiting on the other end of that flight is my wife and two sons. I have missed them this week spent in Boise. I am sure that the aircraft I will be loaded onto for the flight will be a small SkyWest "puddle jumper". I don't know why I call it a "puddle jumper", perhaps due to the fact that I once heard it referred to as that and it was catchy. I often repeat things I have heard because it sounds good, not necessarily because I understand it's meaning or the origin. I suppose I should be more careful about speaking using terms I don't fully understand. It is a small twin engine prop. As I watch the two pilots climbing off the aircraft that has just parked outside the window, it strikes me that they are not any older than myself. In fact they look fairly young.

I can't get past the couple that is sitting across from me. He looks like a very rough character, in his late 40's maybe even early 50's. His blue jeans cover the brown cowboy boots down past the ankle. There is a ring on his right hand that looks very Native American in nature, a rock of sorts polished and set into sterling silver. His leather vest is thick and I can almost smell it from here. It is engraved above the right pocket with a logo, distinct in its nature. The vest covers the blue denim long sleeve shirt that is unbuttoned far enough to expose his graying chest hairs and the sleeves are unbuttoned at the cuff and rolled over at least once to expose his muscular forearms. The Gotee is a peppered black and although it is not long like those of ZZ Top, it is heading in that direction. His sunglasses are riding on top of his head acting almost like a hairpiece holding his long hair behind his ears. The spanish looking belt has a silver belt buckle and is enhanced with silver emblems that follow a pattern the full length around the belt. As he stands and moves to the window to watch the aircraft approach, the emblem on the front of his vest is discovered. For the embroidery on the back of his vest is larger and colored. An eagle spreading its wings over the word HOG and a small ribon with "lifetime member" sit just below the Harely Davidson logo. I don't know if it is the apparel, the unkept look, or the shark tooth hanging from a copper enhanced knecklace that gives me the impression he is not someone to be messed with. He is not here alone. He sits next to a woman that probably eqauls his age but looks to be a bit older. She too wears jeans, black though, and they too cover her well used cowboy boots. Nothing fancy of coarse, those boots could belong to a man for as plain and worn as they appear. She is wrapped in a large wool coat with an ornate design that is uniquely western in nature. Long sandy blonde hair and simple glasses. She is not adorned with much jewelry. I notice her holding a spit cup. It is classic in nature, a clear plastic disposable drinking cup with a napkin wodded up in the bottom. I am slightly disgusted at the sight but at least the smell does not accompany the image. I am shocked that she would hold a spit cup for her male companion, and I contemplate what their relationship must be like. This continues until I see her raise the cup to her lips and drop a load of chew colored spit down the inside of the cup. He too takes hold of the cup and drops his unswallowed saliva into the cup. What a vulgar display. I know that this is a judgemental opinion of the unhealthy habit, but it is my opinion and to me that is what counts. She too is probably not a woman to be messed with. As I struggle to keep my eyes on anything other than the two of them I find myself staring out the window daydreaming of my two boys. I am hopeful that they will meet me at the airport so that I can accept the eager hug from my littlest one and put my arm around my older stoic boy as I depart the plane.

This has been my first entry on this blog journal... I expect many more to come. It will be a great way for me to record the things that I have seen and experienced in my life. A journal that I some day hope will provide my posterity a look into my thoughts and actions in life. Providing them with a look into my world and the way in which it revolved around me.