I feel like I’ve been saying this since…ohhhh at least about two years ago when I became one of those 105,000 instrument rated commercial pilots to leave the airline industry.
Since Wilbur and Orville only had one plane between the two of them, there has never been, nor will there ever be a shortage of pilots, so lets stop calling it that. What we’re short on are qualified pilots willing to work for the unsustainable wages and benefits offered in this country.
Every time I think I might miss it, there comes another union-busting, whipsaw, bullshit story from the industry about the shuffle of aircraft from one regional airline who refused to negotiate their livelihoods away and sign a garbage contract to another regional airline who gladly signed the garbage contract with the promise of getting said airplanes.
Is that Ron Howard?
My watch is the only watch I’m excited about today. Call me a curmudgeon, but we look at too many screens and, already, get too many things vying for our attention. A wearable screen ready to distract us? Does that make us more present, or less? My iPhone has been my wearable since 2007. I wear it in my pocket. Do I really need another screen and another wearable?
A friend of Ms. McBride’s testified that earlier in the evening, the two drank vodka and smoked marijuana. Just before 1 a.m., while driving, Ms. McBride hit a parked car within the Detroit city limits, left the scene of the accident and rejected help from neighbors, witnesses said. One witness said that Ms. McBride, who appeared disoriented and was bleeding from her injuries, brushed off a neighbor’s plea to wait for an ambulance.
Her whereabouts for the next several hours remain a mystery. But around 4:30 a.m., she approached Mr. Wafer’s home, a small house on a corner lot. He testified that he had heard loud pounding on the front door, then on the side door.
Mr. Wafer, who has no landline phone, said that he frantically searched for his cellphone, but could not find it. As the banging continued, he said, he went to a closet and retrieved his Mossberg 12-gauge shotgun, which he had loaded less than two weeks earlier after vandals paint-balled his vehicle.
On the morning of Nov. 2, Mr. Wafer was so afraid that his house was about to be invaded, he told the courtroom, that he did not even peek through his vertical blinds to see who was outside, concerned that he might “give away” his position within the house.
He said he opened his front door and, seeing a “figure,” fired one shot through the locked screen door, killing Ms. McBride. Mr. Wafer then found his cellphone and called 911. In a conversation only 18 seconds long, he told the dispatcher that he had shot someone on his front porch who was “banging on my door.””
This is messed up at so many levels.
“So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say.”
― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own
The son of an assistant school principal, Fidrych played baseball at Algonquin Regional High School in Northborough, Massachusetts, and at Worcester Academy, a day and boarding school in central Massachusetts. In the 1974 amateur draft he was selected in the 10th round by the Detroit Tigers and later joked that when he got a call saying he had been drafted he thought he was drafted into the military not thinking there were any teams looking at him. In the minor leagues one of his coaches with the Lakeland Tigers dubbed the lanky 6-foot-3 right-handed pitcher “The Bird” because of his resemblance to the “Big Bird” character of the Sesame Street television program.
Fidrych made the Tigers as a non-roster invitee out of the 1976 spring training, not making his Major League debut until April 20, and only pitching one inning through mid-May. He made his first start in the Tigers 24th game of the season, and only because the scheduled starting pitcher had the flu. Fidrych responded by throwing six no-hit innings, ending the game with a 2–1 complete game victory in which he gave up only two hits. In his first 13 major league starts, Fidrych threw 1201⁄3 innings, an average of more than 9 innings due to three 11-inning stints. By early July, he was 9–1 with a league-leading 1.85 ERA, and was picked to start the All-Star Game for the American League. The All-Star appearance was the 12th start of Fidrych’s major league career.
He went on to win 19 games, leading the league in ERA (2.34) and complete games (24). Fidrych won the American League Rookie of the Year Award, getting 22 of 24 votes, and finished second in voting for the AL Cy Young Award.
In the process Fidrych also captured the imagination of fans with his antics on the field. He would crouch down on the pitcher’s mound and fix cleat marks, what became known as “manicuring the mound”, talk to himself, talk to the ball, aim the ball like a dart, strut around the mound after every out, and throw back balls that “had hits in them,” insisting they be removed from the game. Mark Fidrych also was known for shaking everyone’s hands after a game. On June 28, 1976, he pitched against the New York Yankees in a nationally televised game on ABC; the Tigers won the game 5–1. After a game filled with “Bird” antics in which he and his team handily defeated the Yankees, Fidrych became a national celebrity.
Every time he pitched, Tiger Stadium was jam-packed with fans who became known as “Bird Watchers”. Fidrych’s fan appeal was also enhanced by the fact that he had his own “personal catcher”. Because Tigers coaching and managerial staff were somewhat superstitious about “jinxing” Fidrych’s success, Bruce Kimm, a rookie catcher, caught each of Fidrych’s outings.
It became common to hear the crowd chant “we want the Bird, we want the Bird” at the end of each of his home victories. The chants would continue until he emerged from the dugout to tip his cap to the crowd. While these “curtain calls” have become more common in modern sports, they were not so in the mid-1970s baseball. In his 18 appearances at Tiger Stadium, attendance equaled almost half of the entire season’s 81 home games. Teams started asking Detroit to change its pitching rotation so Fidrych could pitch in their ballparks, and he appeared on the cover of numerous magazines, such as Sports Illustrated (twice, including once with Sesame Street character Big Bird), Rolling Stone, and The Sporting News. In one week, Fidrych turned away five people who wanted to be his agent, saying, “Only I know my real value and can negotiate it.”
Fidrych also drew attention for the simple, bachelor lifestyle he led in spite of his fame, driving a green subcompact car, living in a small Detroit apartment, wondering aloud if he could afford to answer all of his fan mail on his league-minimum $16,500 salary, and telling people that if he hadn’t been a pitcher, he’d work pumping gas in Northborough. He fascinated everyone, most especially young women, with his frizzy blond curls, blue jeans, and devil-may-care manner.
At the end of his rookie season, the Tigers gave him a $25,000 bonus and signed him to a three-year contract worth $255,000. Economists estimated that the extra attendance Fidrych generated around the league in 1976 was worth more than $1 million. Fidrych also did an Aqua Velva television commercial after the 1976 season.”
If not for growing up in Michigan, I’d have sworn this was fiction.
Why Riding Your Bike Makes You A Better Person (According To Science)
Lots of good stuff in here.
Jai Paul - BTSU