Daily Archives: June 5, 2008

Last Day on the Road

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I finally make it to Quincy.

[When we last left our intrepid traveler, she’d settled down for the night in a campsite alongside a stream in Oregon, where she sipped good coffee and listened to a light rain falling on the roof of her travel trailer. You can read about the first day of her trip here and the second day here.]

I’ll be the first to admit that although I pushed hard and covered a lot of miles on the first day of my journey from Wickenburg, AZ to Quincy, WA, I pretty much slacked off on the second day. I blame that on two things: I was tired from a poor night’s sleep and the rainy weather made driving difficult and tedious. So when I pulled into the campsite in an Oregon State Park, I didn’t really care that I’d only covered about 400 miles that day when I should have been able to make it all the way to Quincy.

But that left my third day with a very easy goal. I was only about 250 miles from Quincy and could easily cover the distance before lunch.

I got back on the road at 7:10 AM. It was still overcast and rainy and the clouds seemed to dip down onto the highway. I drove through a light mist, wondering if it would become real fog. There weren’t many other vehicles on the road, which was a good thing. There was construction at various small bridges, bringing the road down to one lane. If a bridge was on an uphill climb, whoever was behind me was forced to slow to my climbing speed, which was seldom faster than 40 miles per hour. I think the truck was more tired than I was.

After a climb to the Blue Mountain Summit, I started seeing warning signs about an upcoming 6% grade. The signs were kind of funny. The first proclaimed, “First Warning! 6 Mile 6% Grade Ahead!” The second said pretty much the same thing as a “Second Warning.” Huge signs set forth maximum speeds for trucks with 5 or more axles — the really heavy ones were limited to just 18 miles per hour. This was obviously serious business.

Before the hill, there was a turnoff for a scenic view. I could see that the clouds ended just ahead and could imagine a view from the mountain over a broad valley. I knew that if I’d been in my Honda without a 3500-lb trailer behind me and a parrot in a plastic box next to me, I would have pulled off to take in the view. But in my current situation, all I wanted was to get to Quincy and set up camp. So I kept driving.

After a “FInal Warning!” sign, I began the descent. The cloud bank ended abruptly at the top of the hill, revealing a huge area of rolling green hills. In the distance, I could clearly see the bulk of Mount St. Helens rising, snow-capped, out of the ground. A tiny cloud hovered near its summit; it might be steaming again. The view was breathtaking, but I had to concentrate on the task at hand: keeping the truck at or below 50 mph on the steep downhill grade without burning up the brakes. I passed a truck and two runaway truck ramps. About a dozen cars passed me. Then I was at the bottom, continuing northwest toward Pendleton.

You may have heard of Pendleton, OR — it’s where Pendleton blankets are made. A piece of trivia for you: Pendleton blankets were much prized by the Navajos, who commonly wore blankets as part of their clothing, in the late 1800s. The Fred Harvey Company convinced the Navajo people, who are known for their excellent weaving, to begin weaving rugs instead of blankets — so they could trade the rugs for Pendleton blankets. These beautiful, soft wool blankets can be found in just about any trading post in the west.

I’d been in Pendleton once before, during my 2005 road trip, eager to take the factory tour. Unfortunately, the factory was closed that week for vacation. (My luck.) I was not going to try again that day.

But I did need gas and I wanted to top off the propane tanks. I’d be using propane to cook in the camper and I didn’t want to run out, since I couldn’t lift the tanks to put them in the truck. I watched the highway signs and pulled off at an exit with a Shell station that had both gas and propane. I was the only vehicle at the pumps and both attendants came out to service me. (Oregon, like New Jersey, is full service fueling only.) One guy pumped the gas while the other actually cleaned my windshield. Then I repositioned my rig and one guy added 6 gallons of propane to my tanks. I was surprised; I thought it would have taken more.

Then I was back on the road again, continuing northwest on I-84. Past Hermiston, I got on I-82 northbound. I crossed the Columbia River for the first time just downstream from the McNary Dam. The water approaching the bridge seemed to boil with currents and columns of mist rose from the downstream side of the dam. The Columbia was at flood stage because of snowmelt in the mountains.

Now I was in Washington state.

The area around me had become more and more agricultural after descending from Blue Mountain. It was a mix of farm field and orchards — including what I’m pretty sure were cherry trees. Most of the Columbia River Valley is cultivated. While Idaho may be famous for potatoes, I passed a sign somewhere in Washington that proclaimed that local county produced more potatoes than anywhere else in the country. Take that, Idaho.

I made the mistake of taking directions from my GPS to get through the Richmond area. The GPS, which is set up for off-road travel, didn’t give accurate and timely directions, so I missed a turn. I wound up detouring through Benton City to catch State Route 225 north to State Route 240. This farm road (225) was narrow and wound through hills. Pretty, but not the kind of road I wanted to be dragging my rig through.

I took State Route 240 to State Route 24 to State Route 243. Along the way, I crossed the Columbia again, passed the community of Desert Aire (which features a private runway), and the farm community of Mattawa, which is also known for its cherry orchards. Route 243 followed the Columbia River and I could easily see the flooding — just the tops of the tall green trees that had been on the shore poked out through the water. Then I got onto I-90 eastbound. Twelve miles to George, where I exited for northbound State Route 281. Just five miles left.

I pulled into the parking lot for the Quincy Golf Course at 11:45 AM.

The site I’d asked them to hold for me was occupied. I didn’t really care. I was tired and just wanted to get the camper parked, disconnected from the truck, and set up. I spent the next two hours doing just that.

Now, the next morning, I’m about 80% settled in. The camper is completely set up, with both beds extended. I put both mattresses on the back bed where I’ll sleep and set up Alex’s cage on the front bed. I’ve got a full hookup here, so I’m all plugged in. This will become important when it gets hot and I need the camper’s air conditioning. It also makes it possible to use the microwave, which our off-the-grid camping makes useless. It’s weird having unlimited access to water — I’m so accustomed to conserving it, especially when I’m away from home. It was a real treat to take a good, long shower. I also put out the awning, which will give me shelter from both sun and rain.

The campground’s five hookup spots are now full. I’m very glad that I got here when I did.

Helicopter Training and Broken Promises

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A look back at the warning signs of the Silver State debacle.

I don’t know all the details about the rise of Silver State Helicopters (SSH) because I wasn’t looking for training when it began its phenomenal growth. Once I caught notice of it and learned more about how its training program worked, I began to suspect that it was what I refer to as a pyramid scheme. Not wanting to get myself in trouble with SSH’s legal department — and frankly, not sure if I was right — I kept my opinions to myself. I did, however, try to warn people to take a close look at what a helicopter training program would give them before signing up for one.

The purpose of this article is not to say “I told you so” to the folks who are now suffering from the demise of SSH. The purpose is to shed some light on what may have been going on and the realities of the helicopter industry.

A Look at SSH

If you’re unfamiliar with SSH — not likely but possible if you’re considering a career as a helicopter pilot — here’s a bit of background information.

SSH was a helicopter training organization that used a “program” approach to training. For a set fee of $70-$80K (I’ve heard several dollar amounts in that range), SSH would provide training that would take you through the following helicopter pilot ratings: Private, Instrument, Commercial, and Certified Flight Instructor (CFI). I’m not sure if it included a CFII rating (that’s for CFIs to do instrument training); perhaps someone reading this can clarify.

SSH attracted potential students by holding seminars in large auditoriums. It would come to a city and hold a seminar. Advertisements on the radio and elsewhere promised to explain to seminar attendees how they could become helicopter pilots earning $80,000 a year. This was enough to attract quite a few potential students. After all, what could be a cooler job than a helicopter pilot? And $80K/year is a great paycheck.

SSH arranged for financing at the seminars. So if you came and liked what you heard, you could apply for a loan on the spot and sign up. This immediately put you in debt. I believe money was drawn out to SSH in 1/3 increments, but I’m not certain how that worked. Again, I’m hoping someone intimate with the situation will clarify in the Comments here.

SSH grew incredibly fast. Founded in 1999, it reported revenues of $40.7 million in 2005 and was ranked number 12 on the Inc magazine 500 list of the nation’s fastest growing small businesses(1). They had training centers in 17 states and over 2,000 students enrolled. I heard a rumor that they tried to buy a fully year’s production of Robinson helicopters one year. (Can anyone substantiate that rumor with a reference?) Helicopter pilots were talking about SSH online and in person. And, unfortunately, many flight schools saw a formula that worked and began limiting their training to a “program” as well.

The Program

Many knowledgeable helicopter pilots had a problem with “the program” and the promises made by SSH. My biggest concern was the salary promise: telling people in their seminars that they could get an $80K job as a pilot. I never heard the promises firsthand, and I worried that they were leading people to believe that they could get that salary immediately after the 18-month training program ended. As I explained in “The Helicopter Job Market,” this is simply not the case. The comments on that post — many of which were written by experienced pilots — support my claims.

Then there was the quality issue. I received this comment on my August 2004 post, “Thoughts About My Summer Job“:

I have a question for you. I am looking at begining training, I already have my PPL fixed wing, and I have been looking at a few schools. But have you heard of helicopter academy? Look them up Helicopteracademy.com
0-300hrs. for 50k and a job offer after that. Your opinion would be great or if you have heard anythin about them. Thanks and thatr offer still stands for me to jump in your new bird. lol

(Oddly enough, the flight school he was referring to is the same one my friend Dave works for as the Chief Flight Instructor. And the post he was commenting on was a direct response to a question Dave had asked me. Small world.)

I responded to his comment with a lengthy comment of my own. In it, I listed a bunch of things a potential helicopter flight student needs to consider when evaluating a “too good to be true” deal on training.

At SSH, there were some problems with how quickly students could get through the program. They were supposed to finish in 18 months, but not all of them could do it so quickly because of other job responsibilities or shortages of aircrafts at SSH locations. There were also some problems with check rides — some students simply were unable to pass a check ride on the first try because of their lack of knowledge or skills. Although the FAA says you only need 35 hours of dual time to get a helicopter rating, not everyone can do it so quickly. (It took me 70+ hours; I like to think it was because I did it part time over 18 months and took a summer off.)

I also worried about the affect of releasing so many new pilots into the helicopter job market. If SSH was graduating 1,000 students a year, where were they all going to work? There simply weren’t enough helicopter jobs out there for all of them. As someone who likes to fly for someone else in the summer time, I saw a lot of potential competition for the usual entry level jobs.

In addition, having too many pilots to fill open positions could negatively impact pay rates. Why pay $700/week when you can easily find someone willing to take $500/week? I also saw a decline in helicopter pilot salaries because of a glut of pilots.

SSH Closes Its Doors

On February 4, 2008, SSH declared Chapter 7 bankruptcy. For those of you who don’t know the individual chapters of the bankruptcy code, Chapter 7 is the bad one. It means you’re definitely out of business for good and are liquidating assets. This action put over 700 employees out of work and left 2,000+ students in various stages of completion of their program, some of them owing $70K or more to a lender.

If you’re interested in more facts about the rise and fall of SSH, here are some excellent references on news sites:

The “Pyramid” — Or Borrowing from Peter to Pay Paul

My background is in accounting — indeed, I have a BBA in Accounting from Hofstra University. I was an auditor and financial analyst for eight years. So I think about numbers and I know how people can manipulate them.

When I first heard of SSH, my immediate thought was pyramid scheme. This is probably the term I used when discussing it with fellow pilots. In fact, however, it’s more of a case of Robbing Peter to Pay Paul.

What I saw going on was this: SSH was collecting money up front from students, supposedly to cover their training costs. But it was probably using this money to pay the bills on previously purchased goods and services. So it was always a step behind with payments and it always relied on new student revenue to keep the business afloat.

This would be fine if (1) the inflow of new students remained constant or increased or (2) SSH finally caught up with its debt and began paying current expenses with current revenues.

Unfortunately, neither of these scenarios developed.

The rise in interest rates soon discouraged the smart students from signing up. I was shocked in November 2007, when I read a comment from a reader on my “The Helicopter Job Market” post from earlier that year. In it, he queried:

I’m curious, has anyone ever heard of Silver State Helicopters? Are they reputable?

Also, how is someone to payback an $80K loan at 19% on an entry level salary of 30K/year? That’s a freakin’ house payment each month without having a house! My “off-the-cuff” figuring say’s that equates to about $800 a month for 20-30 years!

I pushed his numbers through Excel and came up with $1,271 per month over 30 years — which I find difficult to believe they’d offer. The total payments over that time would exceed $450K. Hell, he could buy a helicopter for that!

While I still find it difficult to believe that financing terms were that bad, it does tend to explain why SSH’s sign up rate declined to a slow trickle. It also explains why they closed their doors two days after their last seminar, which was held in Florida.

So SSH got to the point where there wasn’t enough new revenue in to cover their debts.

I got an inkling of their serious financial problems in the fall of 2007 when SSH did a major reorganization that eliminated several middle management positions. Later, in January 2008, I was told by a SSH employee that SSH was unable to pay overhaul centers to get their helicopters back from overhaul. As a result, they were running out of helicopters to do training in. Indeed, the Glendale, AZ location had a timed-out R22 sitting in the hangar because they worried that if they sent it to the overhaul center, they’d never get it back.

How I Know So Much About It

Even though I saw the writing on the wall, I had a relationship with SSH that began in 2006. Needing a qualified R44 mechanic for my helicopter, I made arrangements for SSH’s Mesa, AZ location to do my maintenance. The folks there were friendly and helpful and the mechanic did a fine job at a reasonable price. (He’s now looking for work; let me know if you need a full-time R22/R44 mechanic and I’ll put you in touch.)

When I decided to get my instrument rating, I spoke to the folks at Mesa and they set me up with their chief flight instructor in Glendale, which is much closer to where I live. After several false starts, I began my training in January 2008. I accumulated about 12 hours of instrument flight time — 10 of which was in a simulator — before they abruptly shut their doors.

I was surprised, although not shocked. I knew the end was coming, but didn’t realize it was so close. I was lucky, though. I’d been on a pay-as-you go program because of my unusual relationship with them and was paying by credit card in $2K installments. I’d used up my first $2K and had just paid my second $2K for the next month’s training. When I got the call that SSH had closed, I got on the phone with my credit card company and initiated a chargeback. It took three weeks for them to process it, but the money was recovered.

So I managed to emerge unscathed. I wish I could say the same for the rest of the SSH students.

[A side note here: I was notified of SSH’s shutdown by the FAA. My contact there knew I used SSH for maintenance and was worried that my helicopter was locked up in their hangar. His first question to me when he called was, “Do you have possession of your helicopter?” That’s a weird question coming from the FAA.]

Let This Be a Lesson

I hope this post teaches its readers a thing or two about the situation. If we learn from this experience, it’ll help protect us from being victims of similar situations in the future.

In short: if something sounds too good to be true, it might just be. Think things through, do your homework, be aware that not all promises are kept. Don’t sign on the dotted line with your eyes closed or seeing only half the picture.

One last word: I’ve tried hard not to bash or blame any specific person for what has happened and I will not tolerate any bashing or finger-pointing in the comments to this post. If you have something to say about your particular situation or experience, do use the comments feature to share your thoughts. But if you use them to personally attack anyone, your comment will be deleted. This isn’t a helicopter forum and I don’t tolerate the high school mentality that’s so common there.

The Rise of Idiot America

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Why the Internet might save us all.

Two days ago, I took a considerable amount of time out of my day to read an article in Esquire by Charles P. Pierce, “Greetings from Idiot America.” The article, which was published in October 2005, was long, well researched, and well written. It used lots of multi-syllable words, which I’ve grown unaccustomed to reading. It shamed me, in fact, that I had to slow down and read certain passages more than once to get the full meaning.

When I finished reading, I felt a mixture of emotions: sadness, outrage, relief. I was sad because, for the past three or four years, I’ve been thinking hard about the topics Mr. Pierce covers in his article and I agree with most of what he says. It isn’t good news. I felt outraged because what he outlines and exposes is a planned attack against knowledge and science by those seeking money or power (or both).

This paragraph sums it all up for me:

The rise of Idiot America is essentially a war on expertise. It’s not so much antimodernism or the distrust of intellectual elites that Richard Hofstadter deftly teased out of the national DNA forty years ago. Both of those things are part of it. However, the rise of Idiot America today represents — for profit mainly, but also, and more cynically, for political advantage and in the pursuit of power — the breakdown of a consensus that the pursuit of knowledge is a good. It also represents the ascendancy of the notion that the people whom we should trust the least are the people who best know what they’re talking about. In the new media age, everybody is a historian, or a preacher, or a scientist, or a sage. And if everyone is an expert, then nobody is, and the worst thing you can be in a society where everybody is an expert is, well, an actual expert.

But I also felt relief — relief that there were people out there who were thinking and could see what was happening, and could put those thoughts and observations into words in a place where others could find and read them. People like Mr. Pierce. Words like this article. Places like highly respected magazines and the Internet.

What It’s All About

“Greetings from Idiot America” starts with a discussion of the Creation Museum and the scene on the day when its “charter members” each paid $149 to see exhibits that included dinosaurs wearing saddles. These people came from as far away as Canada. They came with their home-schooled children as a “field trip.” They came to view exhibits that would legitimize their belief that the Bible’s book of Genesis is an absolute fact.

I’ve never been the the Creation Museum and never plan to go. I don’t want to support it with my money — money I’ve earned through logical thinking and sharing my knowledge by writing books and articles. But John Scalzi visited it not long ago. And his written discussion and photo tour are highly recommended reading and viewing. While Mr. Pierce writes about the museum before it was completed two years ago, Mr. Scalzi brings us up to date with a complete picture of the finished product. Dinosaurs with Adam and Eve are only part of the situation.

Mr. Pierce goes on to discuss various events in recent political history that support his theory. He ticks off point after point. A thinking person can’t help but be amazed that things like this have happened in our country, in our government, in the 21st century. It becomes clear why school systems can be conned into believing that Intelligent Design might just be another valid theory — even though evolution has mountains of real evidence to back it up. Or why America has slipped from being a leader in science — when we’re more interested in Britney’s custody battles or the latest American Idol.

In his article, Mr. Pierce reminds us:

Americans of a certain age grew up with science the way an earlier generation grew up with baseball and even earlier ones grew up with politics and religion. America cured diseases. It put men on the moon. It thought its way ahead in the cold war and stayed there.

I’m in that age group. I watched Neil Armstrong step out onto the surface of the moon. I was eight years old and I didn’t fully understand the significance of what was going on. I recall watching a scene that included the leg and ladder of the lunar module sitting on the surface of the moon. The picture was black and white and not very good. We waited a long time for something to happen. There was static with the voices, along with a lot of weird, high-pitched beeping. It was boring. It was late. I wanted to go to sleep. But my mother made me and my sister sit up and watch it. It was history in the making. It was proof that America was a country of great thinkers and doers. In less than ten years, we’d accomplished the goal the late President Kennedy had set for us.

Sadly, our current president won’t set any goals for us at all.

Mr. Pierce interviewed Professor Kip Hodges at MIT:

“My earliest memory,” Hodges recalls, “is watching John Glenn go up. It was a time that, if you were involved in science or engineering — particularly science, at that time — people greatly respected you if you said you were going into those fields. And nowadays, it’s like there’s no value placed by society on a lot of the observations that are made by people in science.

“It’s more than a general dumbing down of America — the lack of self-motivated thinking: clear, creative thinking. It’s like you’re happy for other people to think for you. If you should be worried about, say, global warming, well, somebody in Washington will tell me whether or not I should be worried about global warming. So it’s like this abdication of intellectual responsibility — that America now is getting to the point that more and more people would just love to let somebody else think for them.”

Pierce goes on to say:

The rest of the world looks on in cockeyed wonder. The America of Franklin and Edison, of Fulton and Ford, of the Manhattan project and the Apollo program, the America of which Einstein wanted to be a part, seems to be enveloping itself in a curious fog behind which it’s tying itself in knots over evolution, for pity’s sake, and over the relative humanity of blastocysts versus the victims of Parkinson’s disease.

I see the truth and tragedy in this. Do you?

On Flying Spaghetti Monsters

I should probably mention here that I’ve also begun following the blog, Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster (CotFSM). According to Wikipedia:

The Flying Spaghetti Monster (also known as the Spaghedeity) is the deity of a parody religion called The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster and its system of beliefs, “Pastafarianism”. The religion was founded in 2005 by Oregon State University physics graduate Bobby Henderson to protest the decision by the Kansas State Board of Education to require the teaching of intelligent design as an alternative to biological evolution.

In an open letter sent to the education board, Henderson professes belief in a supernatural creator called the Flying Spaghetti Monster which resembles spaghetti and meatballs. He furthermore calls for the “Pastafarian” theory of creation to be taught in science classrooms.

One of the features of the CotFSM blog is the reprinting of “love mail” and “hate mail” received by Mr. Henderson. I read a bunch of posts the other day.

The love mail is an interesting mix from atheists (which you’d expect) and religious people who “get it.” All agree that neither Intelligent Design nor Creationism should be taught in schools. In fact, they all agree that religion should not be part of a public school education at all.

The hate mail is amazing. I really can’t describe it any other way. The majority of it consists of angry tirades penned by religious fundamentalists. Some of them seem to realize that the CotFSM is a joke or parody while others apparently believe that the CotFSM has real believers — in other words, they just don’t “get it.” Either way, they’re united in their belief that supporters of the CotFSM will go to hell. (Not surprising, I guess. What else is there for “sinners”?)

But what bothers me about some of the hate mail is the complete lack of literacy. Here’s a recent example:

wow you people are crazy i pray to my LORD jesus christ that you people wake up God created man in his own image and im sorry but if you look like noodles with meatballs growin out your BUTT you need to go back to SPACE or get back in the pan where you’ll be somebodys dinner!

people will believe anything!!

i am verryyy happy i was well homeschooled becuase i would be in jail for punching a teacher in the face when she tried to tell me about this so called spagetti monsterr!

i hate to be the breaker of bad news but when you look around when u die u wont be with your master meatball you’ll be burning in the pits of HELL and i am a REAL christian and that hurts to know that so many people are gonna be in hell! over a random guy that started a joke and has nothing better to do besides make up some god for fun then see how many people are loving this idea.
God bless you wacked out meatball loving freaks!
-christy

Wow, this person is illiterate. I guess grammar, punctuation, capitalization, and spelling are optional in the home where she was schooled.

And this is what worries me about the future of our country. As more and more people pull their kids from school in favor of home schooling or pressure their school systems to teach non-science “theories,” the average intelligence of our population drops. Christy (assuming she spelled her own name right; I’m making an educated guess on the capitalization) might be an extreme example of the problem, but she’s out there. How many others like her are building and populating Idiot America?

Read it and Weep

If you’re concerned about America and what’s been happening to it for the past decade or so, you owe it to yourself to read “Greetings from Idiot America.”

But don’t stop there. Get your thinking friends to read it. Discuss it. Blog about it. Get these issues out into the open.

It took me more than two years to stumble upon this article. Why? Could it be that I’ve been sucked into Idiot America, too?

But thanks to the Internet, it was still out there, waiting for me — and you — to find it.

Pastina

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Comfort food from my childhood.

I find that the older I get, the more I look back with fond memories on certain aspects of my childhood. And since eating has always been high on my list of life priorities, it’s no wonder that I think back about food.

Last month, Mike and I went to the New York City area where I grew up to be tourists and spend Thanksgiving with our families. I took the opportunity to buy some of the foods I enjoyed as a kid that simply don’t seem to be available in Arizona.

PastinaOne of these is Pastina. I bought two boxes of Barilla Pastina, which is the only one I could find. (I think we used to buy Ronzoni.) The Barilla Web site, where I found this nice box shot, has a good description:

There are few children in Italy who do not grow up eating Pastina, the classic tiny pasta stars that parents first serve as a child’s introduction to the delicious world of pasta. Here in America, parents choose Barilla Pastina for their young children because it is made from 100% highest quality durum wheat; is enriched with essential nutrients, such as thiamin, iron, riboflavin and niacin; and is easily digested. And grown-ups love the deliciously nutty flavor of Barilla Pastina, too, especially in soups and simple broths.

When they say “tiny,” they’re not kidding. Pastina makes rice look huge.

We ate Pastina for breakfast many times, usually at my grandmother’s house after a sleepover. My mother’s mother was second-generation Italian; her parents had come to New York with the wave of Italian immigrants in the early 1900s. My mother was born in the Bronx and lived in a true Italian neighborhood until she was 8, when my grandparents moved to northern New Jersey. The Italian influence was pretty heavy on that side of my family, although my mother was fully Americanized. Her brother, who was 16 when they made the move, stayed more Italian. He married a second-generation Italian woman who tried hard to keep the family as Italian as possible throughout the subsequent years.

I’m the product of a third generation Italian mother and second generation German father. I don’t consider myself either nationality; I’m American — whatever that really means.

Back to Pastina. When my grandparents made Pastina, they didn’t follow package directions, which called for the usual boiling and straining of the pasta. Instead, they used far less water and let the tiny pasta soak it all up in cooking. Then, before cooking was done, they dropped a raw egg into the pot and stirred the mixture until the egg was cooked. They served it in bowls with butter. I’m not sure if this is how everyone served Pastina to kids, but it’s the way we had it.

My grandparents are gone now, so I couldn’t call them for a recipe. Instead, I sort of winged it. What I came up with works and is very tasty. Here’s the recipe/instructions for one serving:

Ingredients:

  • 1/3 cup Pastina
  • 2/3 cup water
  • 1 Tbsp butter
  • 1 egg
  • salt and pepper to taste

Cooking Instructions:

  1. Combine Pastina and water in a large, deep bowl.
  2. Cook on high in microwave for 2 minutes.
  3. Stir, add butter.
  4. Return to microwave and cook on high 1 minute.
  5. Stir, break egg into mixture and stir again to scramble and mix it in.
  6. Return to microwave and cook on high 1 minute.
  7. Stir one more time.
  8. Return to microwave and cook on high 1 more minute.
  9. Add salt and pepper to taste and serve.

Please keep in mind that my microwave is 21 years old. I think it’s only 700 watts. So you might have to adjust the cooking times shown here.

After about 3 minutes of cooking, the Pastina should have soaked up most of the water and be tender. (Remember, this pasta is really tiny.) The last two minutes are primarily to cook the egg.

I really like this — it’s true comfort food. If you give it a try or have had it in the past, please share your comments about it here. Use the Comments link or form for this post. I’d love to hear from you — especially if you grew up in an Italian household and enjoyed this for breakfast, as I did.

Question: When does an apparently fun way to earn income become a "job"?

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Answer: From the moment you start.

While I was in the middle of the Big September Gig, I found several times to post “tweets” to Twitter about my progress, using the text messaging feature of my Treo. Later, when I got a chance to read the tweets of the people I follow, I found this comment from a fellow Twitter member:

Wish I was out flying but after so much, does it become a “job”?

The question kind of floored me. After all, the flying I do for hire is a job. So I replied:

Any time you’re required to perform a task at someone else’s whim in exchange for money, you’re doing a job, aren’t you?

But that doesn’t mean it has to be a bad thing.

And that pretty much sums up the way I think about all the things I do for a living, whether it’s writing or flying.

Why People Might Think Otherwise

That got me thinking about why some people might think that my flying or writing was not like a job. What did they include in their definition of job that I wasn’t including?

And I came up with the following list of items:

  • Many people’s jobs require them to be in a certain place at a certain time every day, such as an office or a jobsite. There’s usually some regularity to this, for example, 9 to 5, five days a week.
  • Many people’s jobs have a limited amount of time off that has to be approved before it’s used. For example, a 2-week vacation or “personal days.”
  • Many people’s jobs include a manager or supervisor or some other kind of “boss” who keeps tabs on their work and has the final say over how their work is done. This same person will also evaluate performance and provide input into promotion and raise decisions. And this person can terminate employment at any time.

For many people, this is the true gist of what a job is. They go to work on a regular basis, they do something under the supervision of a boss, and they get paid. A few times a year, they take time off.

Freelancing and Business Ownership is Different

I’m a freelance writer and the owner of a business. These are my two “jobs.” And in both jobs, I’m subject to the same requirements of a regular job, but in different ways.

As a freelance writer:

  • Although I’m not required to be in a certain place at a certain time every day, I am required to complete my work on time. So that means I have to sit at my desk and work to get the book or article or whatever is due done. And if meeting a tough deadline means working 12- or 14-hour days — even on weekends — that’s just the way it is.
  • I get as much vacation time as I like and no one has to approve it. However, if I don’t work, I don’t get books or articles written. And I don’t get paid.
  • I have a boss: my editor. He or she decides whether I’m creating the content the publisher wants to see. He or she can also make changes to my work or require me to redo it a different way. And if I don’t do my job right, he or she is not likely to recommend me or hire me for future assignments.

As the owner and chief pilot of Flying M Air:

  • When I have a gig, I have to show up on time and stay until my client is satisfied that the job is done. That job can be any day of the week, any time of the day or night.
  • I get as much time off as I want — as long as there isn’t an upcoming gig on my calendar. But when I’m not working, I’m not making money.
  • My boss is my client. If he wants me to be on the ramp, ready to fly at 6 AM, I have to be there. (There are exceptions to this. For example, as pilot-in-command, I have final say over whether a flight is conducted. So if I feel a flight cannot be conducted safely due to weather or other conditions, I can cancel it.) If I don’t do my job satisfactorily, my client will probably not hire me again in the future.

But Wait, There’s More!

I can make a good argument that being a freelancer or business owner is a lot more work than being an employee with a desk job.

  • When I’m not working and have no work lined up, I have to work to find work. For example, I might need to write a book proposal or pitch an article idea. I have to maintain my Web sites to keep potential customers — editors, readers, passengers — interested in my services. Or meet with hotel concierges to convince them that they should be recommending my helicopter day trips to their guests.
  • I have to manage the finances of each of my businesses. That includes keeping track of all banking records, balancing bank accounts, paying bills, and filling out sales tax returns. (Thank heaven I don’t have employees anymore; dealing with that paperwork is a nightmare.)
  • I have to keep my competitive edge. That means learning about the new technology I might have to write about and purchasing the computer hardware and software I need to get my job done right. I have to take an annual Part 135 check ride with an FAA inspector and work with helicopter instructors to get advanced ratings (like the instrument rating I want to get this season) and practice emergency maneuvers. It also means preflighting and washing the helicopter and managing its maintenance.
  • I have to think about and plan for my businesses 24/7/365. So yes, I lose sleep when I have a seemingly impossible to meet deadline ahead of me for my biggest book. (I made it.) Or when I can’t figure out where that pesky oil leak is and wonder whether it’s serious enough to be squawked. (It wasn’t.) And I’m thinking in the shower or while driving or flying about things I can do to grow my businesses and my income.

Do you do all that in your job?

I’m Not Complaining!

I’m certainly not complaining. While it’s true that being a freelancer or business owner can be a headache sometimes, it’s never bad enough for me to face the alternative — that desk job. I’ve been there and I know.

There’s something enticing about collecting a regular paycheck (with benefits, if you’re lucky) and moving your way up the corporate ladder — or even just skating at a ho-hum job. There’s something sweet about not having ultimate responsibility for profitability of a business. It’s certainly great to leave your job at the office door when you leave at the end of an 8- or 9-hour day.

I made the move to a freelance career in 1990, after eight years of a “9 to 5” job. And after 18 years of working for myself, building a writing career and flying business, I simply could not go back to the 9 to 5 grind. I’d rather work my ass off on my own schedule, taking the ups and downs that come with the freelance/business owner lifestyle, and be completely responsible for my livelihood than to tie myself to an office job again.

But that’s me.

What do you think? Use the Comments link or form for this post to share your thoughts.

And please, no get-rich-quick links. They will be deleted.