I'm Here

I can be a real idiot at times.

There was a fatal accident involving a helicopter operated by my employer today.

A couple of hours ago, Bob Barbanes sent me an email with the subject heading of "Are You There?" Only then did it occur to me that some folks could be wondering if I could have been one of the pilots in that helicopter. The accident has been reported on some national news outlets, so I'll be sending out a bunch of emails tonight to inform friends that I'm still on this earth.

This is one of those times that it really sucks to be a pilot.

I knew both of the pilots personally, and my heart and prayers go out to their families.

On Being Away and Single

Sure, it's hard for guys with families to be away on the holidays, but it's too easy to lose sight of the fact that being away is difficult for single folks, too.

In the last several years, the average age of our pilot staff--now at about 660 pilots--has gone down a bunch. Ten years ago, the guy or gal holding the median spot on the seniority list had about ten years with the company. Now, that person has just a bit over three years with the company. PHI employs the most twenty-something pilots than since the years following the Vietnam War.

For a single guy or gal, being away from home, in a way, must be even harder than for a married guy. I feel connected to my home through my wife and son. I talk to them every day, and it gives me comfort to know that they'll be waiting for me when I go home.

Often, our single pilots have no one waiting at home, not even a dog or cat. (The critters don't like going without food for a week or two.) Their social networks are usually comprised of other single people, and often, contact with them ceases when the pilot is away. Being single as an offshore helicopter pilot carries its own burdens.

That's why I was happy to learn that my friend and coworker Eugene, who also had to work on Christmas Day, got a pleasant surprise from his girlfriend Ivy: she flew in from California to spend Christmas with him. It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.

Eugene and Ivy

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas to everyone. Just so you'll know, Dylan is bummed that I won't be home today, but his sorrow is greatly mitigated by knowing that he'll have another Christmas day when I get home, and thus, more presents.

As for me, I'm simply thankful for all of the blessings in my life.

May your day be wonderful. If you're gonna have some eggnog, have one for me.

Bouncing Back

I decided at the end of the workday yesterday to drive to the West Bank area of New Orleans to buy groceries and stuff. It takes a bit over an hour to drive up there from PHI's Boothville, Louisiana base. I spent that hour in one damn sour mood. I always get the blues for a while when the short days of winter impose themselves, and the thought of being away from Rhonda and Dylan come Christmas Day didn't help.

I'd planned to grab a sandwich for dinner before going on to a supermarket, but I instead decided to treat myself to a "real" dinner at an Italian restaurant. I sat down with Chad Waterbury's new book and tried to avoid giving off the aura of a shaved sasquatch with hemorrhoids and a toothache.

Several tables over, four couples sat together. One of them had a baby girl, maybe a year old. Everyone was fawning over the little one, taking turns holding her. She was smiling and giggling and eating up being made to feel so special. It made me smile.

Later, the hostess seated a couple who appeared to be well into their seventies. They sat at a table big enough for six. They chose to sit together, on the same side of the table. They held hands while they waited for their food. It made me smile.

I drove back to Boothville in a much better mood.