Wingsuits and Flying Inside a Box

There was once a time in my life where I’d found myself without a job, a home, and any real sort of income. There were many nights where I was uncomfortable, and several days where meals consisted of Saltines and ketchup “borrowed” from a nearby restaurant.  I was hungry. I chose the alternative of crackers and ketchup over the alternative “nothing.”

I had the opportunity to participate in illegal activities that would have probably changed my life, turned me into something different than who I am today. It was an alternative to what I was doing.

Someone could have placed a big beautiful steaming green plate of road apples in front of me. And I wouldn’t have eaten it, no matter how hungry I was. It was an alternative to what I had to eat.

Sometimes, alternatives between “nothing” and “bad choice” is really no alternative at all. In those situations, most would agree that “nothing” is the better option.

When Bill Wenger of the USPA Competition Committee told me that his team had accepted the “grid system” for judging wingusiter skydivers because “it was the only alternative,” I pointed out that an alternative between something and nothing isn’t really an “alternative.”

The USPA Competition Committee has a responsibility to look at rules, regulations, judging systems, and measurement devices with an eye of discernment. They have a responsibility (I believe) to seek out input from various groups/camps of skydivers and gather opinion and learn how people in each discipline feel about the way rules, regulations, judging systems, and measurement devices apply to said groups of skydivers.

Yet in the case of the “grid system,” the USPA did exactly the opposite. A presentation of the grid system was rushed together less than 10 days prior to the BOD meeting in Dallas Texas in July of 2009. The board accepted this system with no investigation, no commentary, no discussion amongst wingsuit skydivers, and without applying a test phase to the system.

Save for half a dozen wingsuit skydivers, no one knew thys system was being presented to the USPA competition committee. In effect and regardless of intent, this system was “sneaked” past wingsuiters.

This has resulted in much angst among members of the wingsuit community, and several people spoke out against the grid system beginning in August of 2009. My own Regional Director did not return phone calls nor emails. He also happens to be the Chairman of the Competition Committee. It appeared that an agenda was in place to force wingsuit skydivers to accept the grid.

When the time came for the wingsuit bigway in November 2009, my own participation in the formation was killed by the organizers of the bigway. Taya Weiss and Jeff Nebelkopf both met with me prior to the formation taking place and it was made very clear in those meetings that I was not going to be allowed to fly in the formation due to my criticism of the grid system.

Further to that point, Jeff Nebelkopf made it clear that if I attempted to participate in any aspect of the event, he “would take steps to have me removed from the dropzone.” I stayed away from all bigway events.

I continued to be critical of the grid, being worried that the grid authors would take the grid system to the FAI. I was assured by two organizers that it would not be going to the FAI, and to not worry about it.

Imagine my surprise to see the grid system on the agenda of the IPC event taking place in Lausanne, Switzerland in 2010.  Again, I sent an email to my Regional Director and Chair of the Competition Committee. And no response was received.

I sat with Larry Bagley, Director of Competition for the USPA, and was told that this “wingsuit thing had gotten ridiculous” and that I was “being blamed for people being opposed to the grid.”

Telling Larry of my concerns about the grid, he indicated that if it were accepted by the FAI as a competition standard, it would be very difficult to repeal it and put any other system into place. I asked him how we could stop this from occurring, and he explained that at this late date, only a letter writing campaign could make any difference.

And that’s what occurred.

Dozens of wingsuiters across the globe wrote letters to the USPA. Only those that are members of the USPA are counted in the consideration of how the USPA should best approach the issue. As a result of those letters, the Director of Competition at the USPA stepped up and said that “No more wingsuit records will be ratified until this mess is cleared up.”

Consequently, myself and another person have been named as “ringleaders of a small minority” in telling the USPA that we feel it is too early to foist a judging system upon wingsuit skydivers both at the US level and international level.

This is my primary position. Give us nothing rather than forcing us to accept a “bad something.” Give our community time to suss out better answers and solutions to a problem most of us didn’t know existed until we saw the inclusion of the grid on the FAI agenda.

What problems do I have with the grid system?

-It is not objective. It is entirely subjective. Two people will not produce the same result without speaking to each other about how the result was achieved.

-The grid system is very easy to cheat.

-The grid system allows for a sloppy, terrible formation to be ratified as a record jump.

This is a USPA Record-Achieving formation.

Do we REALLY want this formation to be a "record" formation? Because it is, by USPA standards.

-The grid system offers a small group of wingsuiters the opportunity to profit from the grid, and I feel this is not appropriate.

-The grid system has been put into play by the USPA without skydivers having the opportunity to work with it, to improve upon it, and develop it as a community. In fact, when authors of the grid were approached to have a dialog about improving the grid, they told us to “f**k off” using a graphic image consisting of middle fingers in the middle of a grid.

"Improving the Grid"

Recent record attempts in Florida occurring on the same day show a different application of the grid as well. One formation is a 7 way, somewhat ugly but fitting the grid. One formation is an 8 way, exceptionally ugly, but fitting the grid. The Director of Competitions for USPA was *ordered* to ratify the 7 way grid. It’s prettier. And, the 8 way was wasn’t as pretty and quite ugly. But it is still the largest grid-worthy formation flown in Florida. So, why was the 7 way ordered to be ratified before review of the 8 way?

Mistakes have been made in trying to slow the growth of a judging system. For example, I misunderstood something communicated to me, and I wrongfully included three names in the “no-grid group” in an email I sent privately to a friend. For that mistake, I apologize. I misunderstood, and misspoke as a result. It was an honest mistake, and nothing nefarious nor underhanded was intended, despite what the grid authors may purport.
My mistake does not dilute the efforts of the several dozens of wingsuit skydivers who have spoken out against the FAI and even the USPA adopting the grid system as a means of measuring wingsuit formations.

A real record formation

This is a terrific formation. But it was not record-worthy. This is a drawing from an actual formation.

There are currently seven other proposed/possible means of measurement, and I’m certain there are still others out there now that the word is out that we’re going to have to accept/develop some sort of judgement/measurement system.

All I ask in that measurement system is that we are able to:

-Independently verify judgment results

-Objectively measure an inch as an inch vs stretching inches to conveniently fit a large area.

-do away with the notion that we should be allowed to fly in a box that is nearly 30 square feet in measurement.

-Promote safety.

-Not be tied to any one organization such as the grid is inseparably tied to Raise the Sky non-profit. Taya Weiss said in a recent article, “We’d like to see all record events tied to a charity….” This is simply wrong for the USPA and/or FAI to support. It is not independent, and is not fair play. Supporting a charity should be a choice for each individual skydiver, rather than being a requirement and expense if one wishes to participate in any bigway event. I feel that the email campaign that ties the grid to the charity is a play on emotions of those that might otherwise not support what the grid is about. Maniuplating emotions to support what should be a factual, objective discussion isn’t fair play either. It wouldn’t be appropriate to drag wingsuit-related fatalities into this discussion; it’s equally inappropriate to drag charity work into a discussion of a wingsuit judging system.

“Record” skydives should be about excellence and skill, effort and hard work. Building something that someone with only one or two wingsuit skydives can participate in is about “feel good” politics rather than creating excellence. Regardless of skill, someone with fewer than a dozen wingsuit skydives should not find themselves in a position of being a “world record holder” compared to the person who has 5000 wingsuit jumps. This is where safety comes in. During the 2008 wingsuit bigway, most participants had a minimum of 100 wingsuit skydives with many having well over 500 wingsuit skydives. No one had fewer than 100 wingsuit skydives went the event was over. In the 2009 wingsuit bigway, many people had far fewer than 100 wingsuit skydives, some with only a handful. There were three separate incidents (none fatal, but one requiring hospitalization and a CYPRES fire) that occurred.

How about we actually weigh alternatives, instead of weighing in on only one side of an issue?

The grid system was a tremendous foot forward and first step, much like the first steps of a toddler. Yet no one would ever apply the measurements of a toddler to marathon runners. The alternative is to develop a better, well-thought out system that wingsuiters have had the opportunity to discuss amongst themselves. To do so, would provide a “winning alternative” in my opinion.

It’s So Easy To Fall In Love

(but so hard to find someone who will catch you…)

The quest for true love had spanned a loooooonnnnnggggg period of time.
Seriously.
Love had proven to be as elusive as peace in the Middle East.
Perhaps it was the travel, the lack of roots. Perhaps it was the lengthy list of “perfections” that the ideal life partner should possess. Maybe it was looking in the wrong places, or maybe it was looking too hard in the first place. Some say it was the “forest through the trees thing. Searching high and low, near and far had proven fruitless, but giving up seemed imminent .
For my friend, it sure was found in the strangest, most un-obvious place and circumstances imaginable.

As I walked the boardwalk of Jaffa, the sting of ocean salt strong, waves crashing on the rocks beneath the wooden walkway, and cooked seafood wafting through the air; every sense of my soul was salivating.  The restaurant wasn’t far, so I walked along slowly, savoring the moment.

Jaffa is a magical place. It is a place of oceanside romance. Little did I know the spell that Israel would be cast this night, and how it would change the life of those around me as well as my own.
Jaffa is mentioned in the Old Testament as “Joppa,” an ancient port city believed to be among the oldest cities in the world. Most believe it was built by the son of Noah after the great flood. The city is named for Japheth, Noah’s son. I found myself wishing my business partner and best friend (Mannie) was with me. He’d been to Israel before, going to school here, as well as visiting some relatives. He knows this ancient city well, and had described it to me with a unique excitement. I know he’d love this place.

The restaurant, decorated with all the expected artifacts of a seaport, was bustling with noisy Israeli’s as they ate, talked, laughed, and drank the sweet wines of Galil (Galilee). All of the speakers from the Future Media Concepts group were meeting here for dinner to discuss the agenda for the following days. I took my place next to Billy Goldenberg, editor of the Academy Award-winning film, “Sea Biscuit.” He’s also edited “Ali” and several other major hits. We soon found ourselves deep in a technical discussion of Final Cut, editing film, and match-syncing picture.

And then she walked into the room.

Looking back, it seemed the room went dead silent when she came through the door. I don’t recall that I could hear glasses clinking, silverware clanking, not even the murmur of restaurant patrons. She smiled a smile so bright, it could cut its way through San Francisco fog as she walked towards our small group. Almost as if fate had prevailed, the only open seat was next to mine. After introductions, her partner presented the agenda for the coming week.

As a production coordinator and one of our hosts (read; baby sitters) Dikla asked me questions about the mountains of Utah, about Native American culture, and what it was like living where I lived.
“Do you follow the ways of your culture? Do you live in tipi’s there?”
I had to repress a chuckle, “No, we don’t live in tipi’s, I have a house, just like most of the houses here.”
“What kinds of foods do you eat?” she asked.
“The same things you eat, we have McDonalds, grocery stores, and junk food.”
Too soon, the evening ended as we climbed into taxi cabs for the long ride back to downtown Tel Aviv.

The next day was our first at the film complex. It seemed entirely strange to have students walk in carrying AR-15 rifles, and even more odd that the theater seats were designed to accommodate the weapons. Dikla was there to shepherd students from one class to another, and assure that all the little pieces of a conference came together like a jigsaw puzzle. Her Hebrew-English translation skills were flawless, and she helped me communicate more clearly with one of the students.

As the day came to a close, we set off to a Moroccan restaurant that Dikla had reserved for the group. We sat on the floor, surrounded by pillows. We drank several glasses of wine in the candlelight, and I realized how incredible, how wonderful, even how perfect this woman was. Reaching for my cell phone, I asked her to smile as I snapped a photo. Fortunately Tel Aviv is on the Verizon network, so I was able to send the photograph off to friends. In particular, I was excited for Mannie to see her photo. It didn’t take long for my phone to ring, as he wanted the full scoop on the woman seated across the table.**

Our next stop was a popular dancing spot, and she took the floor, dancing with various speakers from the conference. She was absolutely captivating. Coming off the dance floor, light beads of sweat lined her brow. “I love to dance,” she said, it’s fun and it’s a great workout.” And in that instant, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’d found the perfect life partner. I left Tel Aviv the next day, with Dikla and Mannie on my mind.

I’d had a couple of conversations with my business partner. He was soon headed to Israel with a religious group, and he agreed to meet her over lunch. “I’m gonna be busy, but I’ll have lunch with her,” he’d said.
Mannie’s not always the most optimistic guy, especially when it comes to romance. But meet her he did, and when he emailed me from Tel Aviv later that week, he let me know that he’d be having dinner with her the following night.
It wasn’t long before Mannie returned to Israel to spend time with the woman that was destined to be his future wife.

**Mannie and Dikla wed in Israel on December 23, 2009, in the same city where this story began, nearly two years to the day I introduced Dikla to Mannie via a cell phone photo/text message that second night in Tel Aviv. I couldn’t possibly be happier for them. Congratulations to them, and may their lives together be filled with happy days.

Last Jump of 2009

Today marked the last skydive of 2009…
It didn’t seem so sad at the time, but 2009 has been a unique year in my skydiving career, so upon reflection, it was somewhat disconcerting to realize that I won’t be exiting any more aircaft in this calendar year.

However, there certainly could be worse days…

Today I finally got Jay Stokes, President of the USPA, into the sky and a wingsuit. Jay had been wanting to fly a wingsuit for a while, not only to experience the wingsuit for the first time; he also wanted to better understand the process of flying a wingsuit, given a proposal placed before the USPA Board of Directors related to creating a Wingsuit Instructor’s Rating. (submit your comments if you agree with creating a Wingsuit Instructor’s Rating). I’d initially trained Jay in wingsuiting back in June. Poor weather conditions and then a bad skydiving accident (on my part) prevented him from getting up.

One thing that is impressive about this president of the USPA; Not only is he an exceptionally active skydiver, but he also keeps trying new experiences such as BASE jumping and now wingsuiting.  Why this is impressive is that many members of the United States Parachute Association are not current skydivers. Some of them haven’t jumped in many years.

We spent about 30 minutes doing some recurrency training. Although Jay was my AFF Instructor and I’d “taught” him before, this was a “for-real” exercise and it’s somewhat intimidating to be teaching someone with the history, knowledge, and experience that my student has.   We went up in Skydive Elsinore’s Blue Otter. Donny was behind the yoke, so we were able to get a nice 90 degree turn towards the Ortega mountains, and Jay exited like an old pro.

Our second exit, we went a little farther out for some distance. Watching the sun over the ocean was spectacular. As we docked, I realized again how much I love teaching, sharing my love of the sky with others.  I can’t imagine not teaching, whether it’s sharing my avocation of music, video production, or skydiving.

As we came over Grand Avenue on the west side of Elsinore, Jay gave a grin and we slid toward each other for his first dock. While he may only have a couple wingsuit jumps, his 15,000 skydives are pretty evident in this jump because he flew as solid as a rock.

Landing on the grass after a 97 second flight, we both had huge grins and exchanged a high five with a heart-felt gratitude for the opportunity to fly together.

I should probably explain here that Jay was a few feet behind me when I broke my pelvis, and it meant a lot to me to be able to  share the sky with Jay again after my accident.

What a perfect way to end the jumping year. Many thanks to everyone at Skydive Elsinore for the great beginning to a winter season….

A Ton of Bricks Weighs Less

Like a ton of bricks, the holiday season t’is upon us. Deck the halls, hark the herald, and while shepherd wash their socks by night, all seated on the ground…

A ton of bricks may be somewhat easily removed, where the holiday season isn’t so quickly dismissed. It weighs upon us beginning on January 2, as soon as the stores can get their holiday clearance sales underway. Black Friday is nothing compared to the “90% off gift wrap” sales found in the week following New Year’s Day. Relief comes in the form of liquid late on New Year’s Eve whence we can celebrate the end of “White Christmas” on the radio.

Christmas music, gifts, shopping, mayhem in the market, attitude absurdities, cries of “Merry Christmas” as the middle finger pops up in parking lots and freeway entrances the world over…It’s simply madness.  This is all aside from the regular pressures the season brings; getting together with family that hasn’t called, written, nor Facebooked in at least a year, perhaps longer. In fact, who the hell is that guy in the corner over there? When did he marry into the family and why hasn’t he at least said “hello?” How do we know he didn’t just crash this party and my niece is holding hands with him because he’s kinda cute?

Yup, it’s Christmas time. (say this in your best Will Farrell voice. Repeatedly. “Yup!” while nodding head vigorously)

Don’t mention the airfares that triple for two weeks, the grimaces on the faces of those stuck in bus stations as they bear the cold and grouchy agents. Don’t mention the frustrations of shipments from FedEx that are delayed for days on end, nor the barely tolerant employees found at the local electronics, department, or lingerie store. Every shopper thinks they are the center of the world, yet with so many centers, it’s all chaos and the world spins sideways for about four weeks. Even the counter person at Starbucks gets into the spirit with “Have a very happy holiday sir, that’s sure a nice hat” when it’s actually a horribly ugly hat, given to me by my auntie Jeannie. I wear it when I suspect she might be within eyeball range of my head. She knitted me sweaters when I was a kid. One arm longer than the other and both arms too short. As I leave Starbucks, I find myself thinking, “could I have a little less idiot with my latte, please?” Even if he meant the hat comment as a snarky sarcasical quip,.. whipped cream isn’t supposed to be red n’ green! When it melts (and it does melt fast), it’s about as visually appealing as regurgitated gummy bears. Jesus.

Seriously, JESUS! How the hell did Jesus and Santa Clause ever form this more perfect union? Even as a kid, I struggled with this concept; as an adult I find it contemptible.
“If you don’t behave, Santa Claus won’t bring you any toys” is the message of the week. But on Sunday, it becomes “Let’s remember Jesus was born on this day, and we need to be good for Jesus.” Making the connection between a lump of coal and going to hell isn’t all that difficult. It would have been easier if we were just brainwashed to think that Jesus was going to bring us a lump of coal. At some point, I realized that Santa Claus is really just Jesus really old. The long hair, trimmed beard, deep blue eyes…the hair and beard turned white, the eyes turned twinkley, the stern ruddy face turned rosy. And voila! Santa Claus was born!!

With this logic in mind, Santa talks to God, right? And God knows everything we all do. But no matter how much I misbehaved with behaviors such as gluing Mr. Shelton’s butt to his chair in 5th grade, or spinning up rubber bands in Margaret Mitchell’s hair, or even being caught kissing Lisette Merritt behind the shed (where the cesspool is) it didn’t matter. I still got that GI Joe I wanted, and the Major Matt Mason doll (later known as “Action Figures”). Yep….some serious miscommunication between God and Santa occurred THAT year. A young friend recently confided in me “My parents apologized for teaching me to believe in Santa.” Hmmm…Well, did they apologize for playing along with Tooth Fairy, Checks in the Mail, and This Won’t Hurt a Bit?” Did they apologize for the whole lump of coal and burning in hell thing too? What the heck? Apologizing for giving your children a magical mystery tour through their early years in wonderland? Apologies to my daughter, I’ll burn in hell before I apologize for perpetuating the myth of Santa as long as possible. I LOVE Santa. Even the big giant inflatable one next to the i-15 near Murietta. Makes me smile every time. It reminds me of a great man named Tony Zucca who hired me to act as a Santa Claus for him two years running. One year I got so damn sick I wanted to die, but I still managed to “Ho, Ho, Ho” my way through the night. Tony was the Macy’s Day Parade Santa for a few years. Hi LIVED to don his red clothes and make children laugh. And in my view, Christmas is ONLY about the children, whether it’s sacred or secular. Give it up for the kids. They haven’t developed the holiday weirdnesses that adults so diligently try to teach them starting with Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving.

Speaking of Thanksgiving, what is this “Novembeard” phenomenon? I walk into a local Best Buy store and EVERY male employee is sporting some sort of facial hair. Even the peach-fuzz kit that looks like the head of a 70 year old comb-over on his chin…it’s silly! When I asked about it, I was told “It’s November. All guys grow their beards in November. Truth is, I couldn’t grow a decent looking beard if I tried. OK, I decided to try it. A couple of people close to me told me to try for the “scruffy look.” Well…I am. It itches. It’s ridiculous. I feel like I’ve got the wrong side of Velcro on my face. Haven’t had the opportunity to kiss anyone with this stickly prickly stuff on my chin, but it’s sure to feel like a porcupine assaulting their cheeks when I do. I know I wouldn’t want to kiss myself. Aaaahhh…. the pain some of us endure for our loved ones. Oh yeah, almost forgot about our loved ones…the ones we run all over town for, fighting over important gifts such as the KISS box of cologne (normally worth around 5.00, but specially priced for Christmas with Gene Simmons tongue, at a value of just 39.99), or better gifts such as underwear and books. One can never have enough underwear nor books, right? That’s been my Christmas list for like….30 years Mom, and I still wear 30-32 under wear, so please don’t buy me 50-54 ever again. That’s my older brother, not me.

My Novembeard and new hat.

Time to go shopping to celebrate the Soltice/Festivus/Hannukah/Kwanzaa/Duwali/Christmas/SeasonsGreetings/Merry
/Happy/Joyous time of the year. Thank God (or Al Gore) for the internet and Paypal. And eBay. Hopefully I’ll find a way to come off like Santa with the demeanor of Jesus. By the way, I did receive a really cool hat from a skydiving friend to replace the ugly one knitted by my auntie. Instead of being weird orange, yellow, green, red, and teal, this one is blue/yellow, has a closing pin (skydiving thing), and it looks pretty good on me. Along with it came a box of my favorite confections; macadamia nut and milk chocolate. Oooh Yeah!

May your days be merry and bright, may the weight of this season upon you be light.

*No animals were harmed in the writing of this blog, and no cruel intentions were used in the sarcasm, blasphemy, or nor character attack on Santa Claus.

TSA and Happy Thoughts

I’d like to take just a moment to say something really nice about the TSA, as I’ve spent the past week and a half. Given their job, I’d like to say something really nice in support of them and their hard work, and their efforts to keep America safe.

Except I can’t.
Truly, they are morons.

In Dulles, they wanted me to remove my sweatshirt because “it’s bulky”. I wasn’t wearing a T-shirt, so when I started to pull it off, they could see they’d be looking at my flesh. And I ain’t 22 with a 6pack any more.

They started to panic when they realized that showing my naked upper body might cause a riot in the secure area, so they told me they’d pat me down instead.

Umm…What the F**K are these very expensive portals used for? They’re supposed to see through my 29.00 sweatshirt and tell these insipid sheep what’s beneath my clothes. If they can tell I’m wearing a leather belt with no buckle, can see how much money is in my wallet, then for hell’s sake, why can’t they see that I’m not carrying a gun!!??

Do you believe?

I believe in fairy tales.

I believe that nice guys can finish first.

If you clap your hands three times and say “I believe in fairies,” good things will happen in your life (I don’t believe Tinkerbell will reveal herself, however).

I believe that love is when hurting her hurts you more.

I believe it’s taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.

I believe I’m a good person even as I work towards being better.

I believe in heroes. They do what needs to be done regardless of the consequences. Heroes stand up for heroes.  Cowards hide in the dark.

I believe in Santa Clause; I don’t believe he has a big white beard and has a stable of flying reindeer. But he does come in the night, quietly, and leaves behind good will towards others.

I believe in angels. I saw one only today.

I believe that great friendship can grow over long distances. The same holds true for love.

I believe that the world revolves regardless of the griefs in our lives.

I believe that no matter how good or well intentioned a friend or lover may be, they’re going to hurt you once in a while.

I believe that every now and then I might be angry and I have ever right to be angry. But I don’t have the right to be cruel.

I believe in forgiveness.

I believe that forgiving others sometimes isn’t enough; sometimes you have to forgive yourself.

I believe that forgiving yourself is much harder than forgiving someone else.

I believe I’ve suffered great pains, but have grown upward from them.

I believe I’ve died a little and been reborn a little several times.

I believe in knights in shining armor, even if they’re wearing blue jeans and a hole-filled Tshirt.

I believe that love is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for.

And I believe  that “if you don’t risk everything, you risk even more.”

I believe in doing my best for myself and for those around me.

I believe human beings are essentially good in heart.

I believe that some human beings bring out the worst in us while those that bring out the best in ourselves are the people we should be nearest.

I believe violence is acceptable in times of great adversity and all else fails to reconcile freedom.

I believe in adventure, in trying new challenges, reaching new heights, pushing the human body and soul beyond where apparent limits lie.

I believe in helping others to achieve their dreams. Failing that, being an intentional obstacle to an achieved dream is evil.

I believe truly good people can do truly bad things. Only those with an evil heart can act with malice aforethought.

I also believe I say more than I should, and don’t heed the advice of Andy Warhol; “Saying ‘I love you’ is like putting a loaded gun to my head because there is no other response than ‘I love you too.’”

I believe in so many things that I’m re-writing my life around the things I’ve believed in for a while now.

And I believe in suspending belief, if only for a short time.

I believe I’m finished.

For now.

ReGifting Thanksgifting

Sitting between two Sumo wrestlers from the larger parts of Japan, I’m flying from LAX to SLC to spend this holiday with my familyand friends. It’s uncomfortable as hell, but some things are simply worth the hassle.

This is of course, one of them, but I’m planning on holding my expression of appreciation for the hassle until I’m no longer a head jammed between two separate sets of shoulders. Visualize a bowling ball stuck in a very narrow alleyway, halfway up from the street.

I’m actually grateful for the opportunity to be flying home as I was teaching today until 4:00 and didn’t leave for LAX at 3:00 as planned. A student who’d sworn up and down that she wouldn’t be later than noon showed up at 1:30 and we didn’t get into the sky until 3:00, about the same time I’d meant to leave for LAX.  But…I’m also incredibly grateful for the opportunity to teach.  In fact, it means more to me than ever. I’ll never be a world competitor-level skydiver again, and I’ll never be able to keep up with the twenty-somethings that can kick my ass backwards from Monday. But I do love the thrill of teaching, and will do so until the day I’m wormfodder.

Getting to LAX was stressful (LA traffic is usually about as relaxing as dodging seagull poop bombs falling on a busy pier) and true to form, the hurriedier I go, the behinder I get. The 91 freeway North had an accident. And of course, so did the 110. AND the 105. I needed to be at the airport by 5:30 to catch my flight, and at 6:15 I was pulling into the long-term parking lot. Not a good omen.

I’m grateful to a friend for talking me through the drive and keeping me calm while I was contemplating jumping out of my truck and screaming “I’ve got a temper and I’m not afraid to use it!” and hoping that would clear traffic ahead. That could have begun a bad day… Thankfully, my flight was magically delayed and I got through security just in time to catch the flight, even though it had been delayed by 30 minutes. Glad for the “no baggage” thing.

So back to the two Sumo wrestlers and the unmentioned guy across the aisle….

The gentleman seated across from me is having a discussion with his wife about “regifting” and how horrid it is, “how could anyone do such a thing?” What makes this eavesdropping really uncomfortable is that in order to listen in, I’m practically nose to nipple with the oversized man-boob of the 350 pounder sitting next to me. And I don’t want to rile him any (he’s sleeping, or pretending to be. Or maybe his eyelids are simply as overweight as he is, I’m not sure). But…the conversation is one I’d really like to jump into. We’ve all received weird gifts in the past, right? Yet my plane-mate is proclaiming that re-gifting is right up there with cheating at cards, taking the quarters from your daughter’s pile of tip change, or thumbing through Cosmo in the checkout line (it’s a Utah thing….)

Hmmm…I for one, don’t have a lot of use for the gallon of  Old Spice that I received for Christmas one year. And the Chia Pet head of George W. Bush? It’s either gonna get round-filed or handed off to someone as a joke gift, or maybe as repayment for the strip monopoly game I got for my 40^th birthday. Either way…it seems a shame to throw away a gift that is still shrink-wrapped. I’d return it, but the day after Christmas, Walmart immediately lowered the Chia-head of the president from 49.99 to 2.99. It  wasn’t worth the gas cost to drive to the store’s return department.

Which brings me to another reason I like re-gifting; Return Departments. Have you ever braved one the day after Christmas?

I’m thinking that the French had a better time of it against the English Armada.
Very Large People In Polyester fighting for space in an area smaller than most corrals,  these anti-regifters sound akin to braying donkeys as they argue with return clerks about why they should get regular price for something they’re returning even though the post-Christmas price is 90% off of whatever it was paid for. It was a gift, it cost them NOTHING! Whatever happened to “It’s the thought that counts?”

Duh…it’s also a new profit program, right? Mark up an item 150% of cost, then discount it by 50% of the retail price, which still engenders a profit margin of 50%, then discount it by 90something percent the day after the holiday and still clear a minimal profit for the fast turnaround.

It’s amazing the crap people will buy in the Christmas buying frenzy. Honestly….how many of your friends really NEED a Ped-Egg, and how many of them are wondering if they have funky feet and you’re trying to be diplomatic with your gift?  When I got a gallon of Old Spice, I found my insecurities wondering if I smelled so badly that only a worser smell could mask the olfactory offensives?  That  24 pack of battery-operated personal fans…let it sit right where it will be the day after Christmas. Honest. I don’t want/need one. Although they could be fun in freefall….Hmmmm….. Silly String is really fun in free fall too.

Back to reality here tho; I am a grateful person. This year, I’ve learned more about life than I had in the previous lifetime. If I were a cat, I’ve used up eight of my nine. I’m gonna make this last one count. I’m grateful for the thoughts sent my way, and I’m grateful for all the love and support sent my way. I’m appreciative of the cards, letters, emails….and I’m gonna re-gift them all. I promise, if you sent me some love, some support, a card, a happy thought, I’m going to re-gift it and pass it along.

Re-wrapped, of course.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours from my very humble trailer in Lake Elsinore, California.

WORLD WINGSUIT RECORD ATTEMPT-MORNING

 

 

Professor John Kallend at Elsinore

The formation is almost hidden from the many steaming cups of coffee surrounding it. A beautiful, foggy morning here at Elsinore.

 

And here we go, as it begins.

Still lots happening as people arrive.

 

Taya Weiss announces the captains and plans for the WWR Attempt.

People are happily reuniting as it’s been a while since some of us have been together.

 

Scotty and Taya Weiss greet each other

Scott Callantine updates Mel Curtis

Monkey and Kristin. Watch the Pink!

Once the announcements took place, the individual planes broke out for separate instruction and briefing. Each team has maps of the flight lines, deployment points, and the four landing areas, separated by plane. With any effort, this year’s event will go as safely as last year’s event, and the initial indicators are that this year is planned with even more care than the previous year.

 

Plane Captain Justin Shorb briefs his team

Following the first briefing, the teams went to the grass and ran out the formations. Formation dots have been spray painted on the grass to indicate proper distances between wingsuiters, and the teams dirt dive each exit over and over. It will become relentless over the next few days.

 

Ed Palowski's team runs it out to the formation points.

All the teams are laying down the formations in the grass, first in street cloths, then in their wingsuits so that everyone can identify the rig and wingsuits surrounding their position. This avoids confusion in the sky, with everyone knowing who should be flying at their head and to their sides.

 

 

 

 

 

Stay tuned for more information.

Purlple Mike finds his slot

LAKE ELSINORE WORLD WINGSUIT RECORD ATTEMPT Tminus Zero

November 6, 2009; Tomorrow the fun begins.

Friday, November 6, brought a steady flow of wingsuiters to Lake Elsinore, with every color and brand possible represented. From as far away as Finland, Russia, the UK, South America, Italy, and many other countries represented, this is truly an international event. Flocks could be seen from the ground of various sizes, including a 16 way formation. All in all, it’s been a wingsuit day, even with the large number of British Royal Engineers on the grounds for their AFF and license instruction.

Both Otters were flying at times, and loads are turning fast. Packers on the mat packing furiously, it makes me wonder what’s going to happen when the wingsuit event gets going for real on Monday.

Gilead prepares for his first wingsuit jump at Lake Elsinore

Gilead I, of Tel Aviv, Israel, did his First Flight Course today, and did exceptionally well. It was surprising to see him in immediate control of fall rate and navigation. On his second jump, he was able to dock and punch the suit hard and far.

Gilead flies a wingsuit for the first time.

On a personal note, I truly feel like I’ve arrived back in the world of wingsuiting. Justin Shorb, Scott Callantine, and Andreea Olea (some of my closest wingsuiting friends) did a four way jump with me, with Michal flying video above us. Justin and I twice took docks, but a rapid spin started with both.

The real fun came when break off occurred and we realized we were more than two miles south of the dropzone. We all punched it out hard towards the DZ, only to realize there was simply no way we were going to make it back. The four of us landed in a football field where young men were practicing their game. Scott, Justin, and I all put down on the 50 yard line; Scott swooped from the end zone to the 50. Andrea put it down smoothly on the 30 yard line. We laughed like kids as we gathered up our canopies, and a couple passers-by picked us up in the parking lot for the drive back to the DZ.

Landing on the 50 yard line of the local football field.

What great fun it was, and being with these close friends meant the world to me. It’s still a deep concern being on the healing road and skydiving, but I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.

We finished the night with a group of us discussing the grid method of measurement for records vs other more ambitious and less creatively controlled methods of flying, where skydivers decide their spacing vs a drawn square. Thinking “outside the box” has a potential for breaking the infant gridlock that we’re currently experiencing as a community. More on this topic later.

It was a great day, a great time on the Elsinore dropzone. And an even better day landing on the 50 yard line of the local high school.

By the way….thank you for reading. If you like the blog, please let me know?

THURSDAY-WORLD WINGSUIT RECORD T-Minus One

Wow, another great day of flocking and jumping with the Brits here in Elsinore. Weather couldn’t have been better.

Eike had some four way stuff going on, Mark Harris and Phil Peggs organizing other smaller groups. Melanie Curtis is stunning in her wingsuit, but then again, she’s just plain “stunning.”

Winds kicked up a bit, so we saw more than a couple students backing up.

A first flight course started the morning for me personally, but the real highlight of the day was Chris Warnock appearing on the DZ with his very cool home-built wingsuit.  Marko, Chris, and myself went out together with Marko setting the base. Chris exited cleanly, flew flat and fast, with Marko and I next to him. Marko and Chris docked not once, not twice, but THREE times, giving Chris his first docking experience in a wingsuit. (BEER!). Other than finding that the winds had taken us a little too far north (over the waters of Lake Elsinore), it was a terrific jump. Chris had a few line twists under a borrowed PD Storm, but he’ll probably soon learn to keep that monstrous legwing closed in the future. Marko and I struggled to get back to the DZ, and landed on the north west side of the runway. Damn, I hate walking that far back to the packing mat. How come the students get a pick up and we had to hoof it? Tero Paukku is here with his lovely wife Lela, as are so many other wingsuiters from abroad.

Sorry gang, no pix tonight. I left my camera locked in one of the student rooms, and I haven’t a key.

Tomorrow morning bright and ugly; first flight courses with Gilead and Keith. More flockers to join us soon!

Matt Hoover Inspires Greatness in the 2009 flock. What a sense of humor!