Paint Quarter Horse for Sale

We make it official.

Today, I created a flyer to sell my horse, Cherokee. Here’s the text and photo:

Paint Quarter Horse for Sale

Cherokee

Cherokee is an approximately 18-year-old registered Paint Quarter Horse gelding. (We don’t have his papers, but can get them; his registered name is “Up Steps a Devil.”)

He is well-behaved and extremely friendly. He’s a good trail horse with plenty of experience riding alone and with large groups. If you ride with the Wickenburg Horsemen’s Association, you may have seen him on some of the rides or in the Gold Rush Days Parade. He’s been trained for a rider to open gates while on horseback. He loads well, has no known health problems, and is really beautiful.

We’re selling Cherokee because we’ve recently had to put down his stall mate, Jake, who was about 30 years old and had developed age-related health problems. We’ve made the decision to do more traveling and have decided to get out of horse ownership for a while.

January 2009 Update: Cherokee has been sold. His new owners live in Wickenburg, so if you ride here in town, you may see him out on the trail once in a while. We’ll miss him terribly, but it’s better for him to get out and ride and for us to shed excess responsibilities at this time.

A Few Days at Home

A vacation…sort of.

On Sunday evening, I left my seasonal workplace in Page, AZ to spend a few days at home in Wickenburg.

I’d been in Page since August 10, when I flew my helicopter to Page airport from Seattle. Since then, I’ve been working with American Aviation to offer custom photo flights and day trips in the Lake Powell and Monument Valley areas. I squeezed in flights between chapters of a book I was contracted to write. Between flying, writing, and dealing with a bad back (now healed), I kept very busy. I was ready for a break.

I’d planned to go home on Monday, mostly because we’d had one of our horses put down on Thursday and I wanted to be there for my “family.” But I got a call on Saturday to do a helicopter flight in Wickenburg and the only time available was on Sunday afternoon. So I came back early and made a few bucks on a photo flight for some really nice guys.

I also had work to do at home. I needed to put together some promotional materials for flying at Page, using files on the iMac in my office. But the Internet was down for two days, making it difficult to get the information I needed to get the work done.

I soon found myself stressed out by a number of things:

  • My sole remaining horse, alone for more than a few hours for the first time in his life, spent a lot of time pacing his corral, calling out to a friend who would never come. It was heartbreaking. I had to keep the windows closed at night so his whinnies wouldn’t keep me up.
  • My inability to complete the work I needed to do because of the Internet outage. This was aggravated by the knowledge that I had more reliable Internet in a campground in Page than I had in my house in Wickenburg.
  • My growing dissatisfaction with life in Wickenburg. I’d spent the summer on the road and had seen a lot of places I’d rather be. I almost resented having to come home.
  • The seemingly endless list of chores I had at home. Life was much simpler in a 21-foot travel trailer in a campground.

When my Internet service came back online and Mike returned from his trip to New York on Tuesday evening, I started mellowing out. I was able to get work done and had someone to share the chores. I pushed back the date of my return to Page. And we went down to Scottsdale for a wine tasting with friends.

My friend, Tom, owns a house in Wickenburg. But these days he spends only one or two nights a week there. He owns a condo in the Deer Valley area of Phoenix, where his business is based. He has friends and a real social life down in Scottsdale. On Wednesday evening, I met Mike at the Kierland Resort for drinks and ceviche at Deseo. Then we drove over to Bacchus for their weekly wine tasting, where Tom was a regular. We tasted some extremely mediocre wines, then shared a few bottles of good wine with Tom’s friends. Then off to Ra to sober up with sushi and tea before the long drive back to Wickenburg.

Mike is thinking of buying a condo in the Biltmore area of Phoenix as an escape to civilization for us. He drives 80 miles each way from Wickenburg to Phoenix for work and is tired of it. (Unfortunately, there are very few good paying jobs in Wickenburg.) He knows about my growing dissatisfaction with Wickenburg and my need for a social life that’s impossible to attain in a half-dead retirement town. Wednesday evening’s activities confirmed our need to get out of town a lot more often.

I flew back to Page on Friday morning. While in Wickenburg, my mechanic, Ed, had installed a new battery and changed the oil in the helicopter. The starter had plenty of juice when I fired the helicopter up at 7:30 AM. I had a great flight back to Page, where I got a warm welcome from my friends.

And last night, I went to my very first high school football game. Mohave beat Page, 24 to 7.

Some People DO Get What They Deserve

I’d like to thank the robber.

One of my Twitter friends (@jeffcarlson, I believe), pointed me (and others, of course) to this article on the TwinCities.com Web site: “GOP delegate’s hotel tryst goes bad when he wakes up with $120,000 missing.” If this isn’t an instance of poetic justice, I don’t know what is.

Turns out the 29-year-old lawyer from Denver went to the GOP convention alone. While there, he was interviewed for LinkTV.org where he made some pretty amazing statements. According to the article:

Schwartz was candid about how he envisioned change under a McCain presidency.

“Less taxes and more war,” he said, smiling. He said the U.S. should “bomb the hell” out of Iran because the country threatens Israel.

Asked by the interviewer how America would pay for a military confrontation with Iran, he said the U.S. should take the country’s resources.

“We should plant a flag. Take the oil, take the money,” he said. “We deserve reimbursement.”

Think I’m kidding? See the Interview for yourself:

The guy even looks like a jerk.

The Twin Cities article goes on to report: “A few hours after the interview, an unknown woman helped herself to Schwartz’s resources.” Specifically, $120,000 worth of cash, jewelry, and other valuables. They were all taken by the woman he brought back to his hotel room. The last thing he remembers was her making him a drink and telling him to get undressed.

So here we have a 29-year-old lawyer who is a typical, small-minded, U-S-A! chanting Republican delegate, publicly voicing some extremely right-wing imperialistic ideas for a TV camera. For some reason, he’s loaded up with $120,000 worth of goodies at the convention — maybe he thought he could hand them over in person to one of his idols. Then he gets seriously taken by a call girl who probably slipped him a mickey before she had to service him.

Poetic justice? I think so.

A Quick Story about Gratuities

Read it. It’s funny.

I forgot to mention this in my “Gratuities ARE Appreciated” post, so I’ll share it now.

In the summer of 2004, I was a pilot at the Grand Canyon, working for the big helicopter tour operator there. They’d often have 10 or 11 helicopters running at once, so when a tour bus pulled up, we could take up to 66 passengers at a time. Needless to say, just about all the tour bus operators used us. Very few of our passengers spoke English.

One day, they loaded us up with a Japanese tour group. I had a petite older Japanese woman next to me. She was probably in her 60s. She was very nervous. And she didn’t speak a word of English.

When we first took off, she grasped the bottom of her seat, like most nervous passengers do. And she continued to look nervous for the first part of the flight. But then we slipped over the South Rim and began our flight across the Canyon. Her eyes seemed to bug out of her head as she leaned forward to suck in the view.

After a while, I realized that she wasn’t nervous anymore.

When we landed and I cut the throttle to idle, she leaned across and hugged me — no small task, given I was wearing a shoulder harness, pair of headsets, a baseball cap, and sunglasses. Then she began rummaging around in her purse. She produced a plastic card and handed it to me with a great deal of excited blabbering in Japanese. She bowed repeatedly before the loader came to help her out.

I looked down at the card, completely puzzled. It had a picture of Mt. Fuji on it and was covered with colored symbols and writing in Japanese. There was a magnetic strip on one side. I put it in my shirt pocket.

During my lunch break, I hunted down Hajame, our Japanese pilot. I told him about the woman and then handed him the card. “What is this?” I asked.

He studied it for a moment, then broke out laughing. Apparently, it was some kind of bus pass for a mass transit system in Japan.

To this day, I prize that “tip.” Sure — it’s completely worthless to me. But it was the thought that counted. She, in effect, gave me a souvenir of the flight. And 4+ years later, I still remember her and the flight that won me such a prize.

Gratuities ARE Appreciated

Some comments about tipping in America.

As some readers know, I’m currently up in Page, AZ doing photo flights and charter flights with my helicopter. American Aviation, which runs a tour operation here with airplanes, is booking my flights. I’m living in a local campground, right next door to two American pilots. And since I see many of the pilots any day I’ve got a flight, I’ve come to know them.

One of the things that all the pilots talk about once in a while is tipping — or lack thereof. And although I suspected it, I soon learned firsthand that European tourists don’t generally tip.

For those of you in other countries reading this post, an explanation may be in order. In fact, that’s what this whole post is about.

Who We Tip

Tipping is a way of life in America. I don’t know if this is good or bad — I’ve lived here my whole life, so it seems natural to me. We tip waitresses/waiters/servers (whatever term applies) in restaurants. We tip cabbies. We tip skycaps — if we need them; wheelie bags are quickly replacing them. We tip tour guides. We also tip free shuttle drivers, airport line guys, and of course, helpful bellmen (when we can find one).

Americans generally tip anyone who provides service that’s even slightly above and beyond what’s expected, and lots of folks will even tip people who certainly don’t deserve a tip.

Some of us also tip tour guides. I do. When I take a guided tour, when the tour is over, I hand over some cash to the guide. I also tip pilots for air tours.

How Much To Tip

In the U.S. the standard “minimum” tip is about 15% of the total bill when you’re in a restaurant. So if you’re having a fine dinner out with some friends and the bill comes to $100, you really need to be prepared to pay an extra $15 to tip your server. In general, Americans tend to tip servers anywhere from 10% to 25%. I’m usually a big tipper and lean toward 20%. But if service sucks, I’ll let my server know by being a stingy tipper. I even stiffed a waitress recently — something I’ve never done before — because of the treatment she gave us when we sent our breakfasts back to the kitchen so they could finish cooking the eggs.

If you go to a restaurant with a large group of people — 6 or 8 or more — it’s common for the restaurant to add an 18% gratuity to your bill. If you’re not sure if it has been added, look carefully at the bill. Although you can tip more if you like, you probably won’t want to go another 15% on top of that.

The thing about restaurant servers is that they don’t make a lot of money without tips. In fact, I’m pretty sure they make less than minimum wage — around $7/hour these days, I think — in a lot of restaurants. They literally depend on tip income to get by. So when they serve a party of foreigners who don’t know how to tip and they get stiffed, they’re not very happy — especially if they didn’t do anything wrong.

I usually follow the same restaurant percentage rule for cabbies. I tip tour guides based on the length of the tour, the quality of the tour narrative, and the cost of the tour. I have no set formula. For example, I recently took a $35, 3-1/2 hour tour of Monument Valley and tipped the guide $20. I thought she was worth it.

Air Tour Pilots

The guys who fly tours don’t make a lot of money. In fact, they often earn less money they they could stocking shelves and wearing an orange apron in a Home Depot. Most of these guys are young and don’t have families to support. They’re starting their careers. They’re not flying for the money. They’re flying to gain experience and build time so they qualify for better jobs where they can actually earn enough money to really live on.

In other words, they’re paying their dues.

Most of them do a good job. They fly safely and, when language is not a barrier, point out the sights of interest to their passengers. They’ve had a lot of flight training and they’ve been tested many times to make sure they know what they’re doing. A few of them can get a little rambunctious, especially on a slow day or a day near the end of the tour season. But that’s usually because they’re bored and ready to move on to something more challenging.

Gratuities Are Appreciated!

Tipping tour pilots is entirely a personal matter. It’s a way to say “thank you.” While saying “Thank you” in words — in whatever language you speak — is a nice thing, handing over a few bucks for the pilot to buy a beer at the end of the day or a latte early the next morning is a lot nicer.

To encourage tipping among people who might not be sure it’s acceptable, the pilots here have small placards they’ve posted in their airplanes. They look like this:

Gratuities are appreciated.
Des pourboires sont appréciés.
I gratuities sono apprezzati.
Se aprecian las propinas.
Trinkgeld sind wilkommen.

I don’t know if the grammar or spelling is right and would definitely appreciate any corrections that a reader can provide.

imageIt’s funny. The guys get everything from pocket change — literally! — to $20 bills. We laugh about the change, especially when it includes pennies. If an American tipped like that, we’d know he was insulting us on purpose. But when a European does it, we know it’s because he just doesn’t know any better.

The first week I flew here, I got a $2 tip from extremely enthusiastic passengers who had spent $900 for the flight. But the next day, on the same sort of flight, I got $50. (Go figure, huh?) Today, after five flights, I’m still tipless. The odd thing is, it doesn’t matter how much you talk to the passengers or make a special effort to position the aircraft so they get the perfect picture. Either they’re tippers or they’re not. Today, mine were not.

What’s Reasonable?

imageWith the dollar amounts ranging so wildly, a tourist from a non-tipping society might be wondering what’s a reasonable tip for a tour pilot. Here’s what I think. For one of these 30-minute flights the guys are doing, I think $5 per passenger would be a reasonable minimum tip. That’s less than 5% of the cost of the flight. $10 per person would be extremely welcome. Anything more than that would give the pilot bragging rights back in the pilot lounge between flights — which isn’t such a bad thing, either.

The more passengers the aircraft can hold, the more tips the pilot can earn per flight. One guy who flies a 172 does very poorly because he can only take three passengers. I can also take just three. I think the rest of the guys should be buying us drinks at the end of the day.

Of course, I’m not suggesting you tip for bad service. Rude people who can’t give you the respect you deserve don’t deserve your respect, either. Just remember that it isn’t the tour desk conducting your flight. It’s a highly trained, professional pilot — who is likely still paying off the loans he needed to learn how to fly.

That’s the Way It Is

Right now, with the U.S. dollar being so weak, the U.S. is a real bargain for European tourists. But for the people who serve those tourists in restaurants, on tours, etc., it’s not quite as appealing. Many of these people depend on gratuities for their work to make their lives a little better. It’s disappointing to them when the extra cash doesn’t add up at the end of the day.