Saturday was a nice day in Chicago. The temperature and humidity belied what should normally have been the front end of the hot, Midwest summer season. It was simply beautiful and BC, my two-year-old Harley Fat Boy, was projecting a subconscious message to me, “Let’s go ride, writer-boy.”
Like most professionals of advancing years, I get fairly inundated with offers of newsletters from financial advisors and stock pickers. One of them is Stephen Leeb’s The Cash Cow.
The scope clause language in the tentative settlement reached between the Air Line Pilots Association and Delta Air Lines in May at first looked like a positive development for all involved.
Rockwell Collins CEO Clay Jones may not be a pessimist when it comes to the Next Generation Air Transportation System (NextGen). But the leader of one of the world’s major avionics manufacturers is not brimming with optimism either.
Florida congressman John Mica is still tilting at the Transportation Security Administration’s windmills, but time may be fleeting.
Stress is all around us these days. Probably nowhere more so than in the pack ’em in, move ’em out world that travel by air has become–at least for those unfortunate enough not to have access to their own aircraft or private charter.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a slave to lists. I have to-do lists all over my apartment and all over my desk, and I rarely leave home to run any sort of errand without a list in hand. My current system involves taking a few minutes at the end of each day to reconcile all of my lists with one master list—and then I start over the next morning.
My relationship with rock and roll—which began when I was in grade school and watching American Bandstand in the 1950s—deepened in the next decade as the music and I hit our teenage years. I started collecting records, attending lots of concerts and eventually writing about popular music for magazines and newspapers. I loved the sounds of rock and—being a typically rebellious teenager—I also loved the attitude.
Quick, what was New York City’s first municipal airport? If you answered Floyd Bennett Field in Brooklyn, give yourself a pat on the back as not many people would know that. Fewer still appreciate the patina that the former airport, located at the southernmost tip of Flatbush Avenue, has accumulated over the past 80 years. As a teen I lived less than a mile from the site, and I scarcely knew anything about it.
Recently Chad Trautvetter, one of my AIN colleagues, was asked on his Facebook page if he honestly believes owning a corporate jet makes sense. “Would you buy one?” he was asked. Chad’s response was that if he had the money he’d definitely buy one, and I agree completely. Let me give you an example why.
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