Meeting the deadline

Let me apologize right up front for the New Age-iness of this post. It's very unlike me, and yet here it is.

The other day I heard someone say they were "getting close to the horizon." It was a romantic notion, a wistful way of perhaps saying they, at this point in their life, had more yesterdays than tomorrows. They were looking out to what the future holds.

I'm pretty sure it was a metaphor for dying.

My guess is they felt time was moving too fast (SPOILER ALERT: It is). And there were things they wanted to accomplish that, as they were getting "close to the horizon", realized they'd probably never get around to.

To which I say, join the club.

I don't have enough blog space to list the things I'd like to do before I go. But while I keep trying to check items off the bucket list (I know, I don't like the term either), I do try to focus every once in awhile on what I actually have done.

I posted here about my attempts to get my helicopter pilot's license. I was talking to someone about it, bitching and moaning (so unlike me) that I hadn't seen it through to the finish line. They reminded me even though I didn't get it, I did at least fly helicopters for a while. How many people can say that?

Well, I suppose every helicopter pilot can, but I choose not to think about that.

The point is to own my accomplishments instead of constantly lamenting the (yet) unfulfilled ones. I have a house, something my parents never had. I have two beautiful kids, again, something my parents never had (they just had one beautiful kid). I've met people of note, traveled places and seen and done things I've always wanted to.

I think when people start talking about approaching the horizon, it's good to keep in mind life's accomplishments aren't always marked with a bang (insert agency Christmas party joke here). Sometimes they arrive with a whisper.

The minute we're born, all of us begin our one-way trip heading closer to the horizon.

I keep reminding myself the trick is to enjoy it.

Rotor-y club

Being the underachiever I am, I have a long list of things I've started and never finished, most of them involving musical instruments (guitar, violin, piano, accordion - you heard me) and screenplays.

But the one I most wish I'd seen all the way through was getting my helicopter pilot's license.

A long, long time ago, I had a bad fear of flying (freelancing and commuting from Santa Monica to San Francisco for nine months put that to bed). So if you'd have told me back then I'd be piloting helicopters, I would've thought you were crazy. I may still think you're crazy. Frankly, it's a separate issue.

Anyway, years ago my future wife and I had to go to a friend's wedding on Catalina. We took the boat over, but because she had an early meeting the following Monday, we decided to take the helicopter back.

From the minute we lifted off, I saw the light and heard the angels sing (which as you know is not always figurative on flights to and from Catalina). Everything I disliked about flying in an airplane I loved about the helicopter.

Instead of a long running start, the helicopter lifted off effortlessly. Because I was sitting in the co-pilot's seat up front, I could see everything he was doing and ask questions about what it all meant. I could also see everything around and under us through the bubble. Fifteen minutes later, we were gently touching down on the pad on the mainland.

I decided then and there I was going to learn to fly a helicopter.

To everyone's surprise, I started taking lessons. My first helicopter was a Robinson R22. Small, squirrelly and more fun than anything, the basic idea was if I could master it then anything I flew after would be easier.

I took lessons out of Burbank airport as well as Long Beach occasionally. It was all fun and games until we got to the part about autorotation.

Basically autorotation is when the power goes out, and the blades rotate by the air coming up through them as the chopper descends. It's an essential part of helicopter instruction, and everyone has to do it. Here's what it looks like:

The part you can't see in the video is the pilot crapping his pants. You really don't know what a good time is until you're at 1500 ft. and the instructor shuts off the engine. I did it exactly twice. Once where he showed me how to do it, and then once setting it down myself.

One great thing about helicopters is the ability to hover. My friend George Roux used to call it cartoon physics. It's awesome. I've hovered over downtown, over Dodger Stadium and over the 5 freeway at night during rush hour, looking at the bumper-to-bumper headlights that go for literally as far as you can see, and laughing hysterically at why anyone would put themselves through that day in and day out.

For my birthday one year, my instructor who was a pilot for the Glendale PD let me rent a Bell Jet Ranger like this one at cost for an hour (cost was $450). It was like going from a Volkswagen to a Ferrari. I took two friends with me. Once we were in the air, my instructor handed me the stick (figuratively) and we were off.

It was so fast and easy compared to the R22, and at that point all I wanted to do was fly them for a living. Towards the end of that flight, my instructor took control and flew us low through Verdugo Hills, riding up and down and fast just a few feet over the ridges. It was like a combat film and it was the very definition of exhilarating.

During the period I was taking lessons, my wife had a business convention in Kauai. Needless to say, one of the things I wanted to do there was take a helicopter tour. So I researched it more thoroughly than I've researched anything before or since, and found out that the man who actually started helicopter tours on Kauai - Jack Harter - was still doing them.

As opposed to the more touristy-feeling tours the other sixteen helicopter companies on the island were offering - flying by waterfalls with Vivaldi blasting in the headphones - Jack Harter took more of an environmental approach to his. It made for more time in the air and a much more interesting and educational tour.

The chopper seated six or seven people, and I managed to snag the co-pilot's seat. As we were flying over a 5,000 ft. ridge in Kauai, it occurred to me that if Jack Harter keeled over, I could get us back safely. Not that I wanted to test that.

I have to be honest and say I still have the itch whenever I see a chopper fly by, or when I drive by Los Angeles Helicopters, ironically located at Long Beach airport. But even though the 28 or 30 hours I logged are still valid, I've forgotten almost everything I learned during them. So it really would be starting over.

Which is okay. Except, as we all know, for me starting something isn't the hard part.

Cut to the chase

You'd think I live in a rusty Airstream trailer, strewn with beer cans, yellowed newspapers and cigarette smoke stains on the fake wood-veneer cabinets and shag carpet.

But God help me, I loves me a good high-speed chase.

I have a system - what I like to call my personal HSC Alert Hotline. Several friends and relatives are in place near their phones at all times. When they happen to come upon a HSC as they're switching channels, they immediately call and let me know.

I take it from there. I immediately leap into action. By action, I mean drop everything I'm doing, grab the remote, switch to the station(s) covering the chase, plant my ever expanding derriere on the couch then sit back, settle in and watch the chase until it reaches it's inevitable conclusion no matter how long it takes. And know this: the really good ones can go on for hours, especially if it's an SUV with a spare gas tank.

Now you might say to yourself, "How sad he has to watch his high speed chases all alone." First, thank you for your concern. But you'll be happy to hear I don't.

The other person in my house, the only other person who appreciates the extremely high entertainment value of them as much as I do is my 12-year old daughter. The apple doesn't fall far from the police helicopter.

As we switch back and forth between channels covering the chase, looking to see which news chopper has the best overhead shot, we always ask the same question: how does the guy driving think this is going to end? Does he think the police chasing him will:

A) Run out of gas

B) Get tired and go home

C) Get lost and have to pull over for directions

D) Not drive nearly as well as he can when he's that high

And by the way, what exactly does he think that bright white light shining down on him from overhead no matter which neighborhood, on-ramp or back alley he turns on to is. The sun? The angel on his shoulder?

Not so much.

The police helicopter pilots are the unsung heroes of the high speed chase. Oh sure, we all love seeing the perp narrowly avoid crashing into pedestrians, trash cans, trees and other vehicles. And what viewer doesn't get tingly at the prospect of seeing one of the several police cars in pursuit deciding to do the PIT maneuver.

By the way, only hardcore chase fans know that PIT stands for Pursuit Intervention Technique. Go ahead, impress your friends. Win bar bets. You're welcome.

Earlier I mentioned the inevitable conclusion: here's what it is, although you've probably guessed by now. After the suspect runs out of gas, crashes the car, turns on to a dead end street, drives the tires that have been flattened by a spike strip down to the wheels - which now look like sparklers riding on the cement, loses his buzz or jumps out of the car and makes a run for it, the chopper pilot just shines the light on him as a guiding beacon for the police to come and get their man (or woman - seen a few of those too).

Occasionally they won't come out of the car when asked, and that's when it gets tense. The police surround the car, guns drawn and make it very clear what they want him to do. It gets really good sometimes when the police are distracting him on one side of the car, and then more police open the door on the other side and drag him out (sometimes they just pull him through the window if he's pissed them off enough).

I've never seen a suspect get shot, which is a good thing since my daughter is almost always next to me watching. I suppose there's always the chance that could happen, and if it does I'll try to use it as a teaching moment. You want to play, you have to pay.

When it's all over, the feeling is exactly like coming home from Vegas. Everything seems a lot slower and a little duller.

The good thing is that this is Los Angeles, so high speed chases are like buses - miss one, there'll be another along any minute.

Many people think the saddest words are "what might've been."

For me, they're "we now return you to our regular programming."

Inspiration is where you find it

Even though I explain it right there under the title, many people still ask me where I got the name for my blog.

You're looking at the answer.

Each time I get asked the question, it makes me think about how inspiration is lurking all around us.

It's like the joke about the guy who's on the roof during a flood. A helicopter comes to rescue him and he says no, God is going to save him. Then a boat comes by to rescue him, but he refuses saying God is going to save him. Of course, the floodwaters rise and he dies. When he gets to heaven he asks God why he didn't save him. God says, "What do you mean? I sent you a helicopter and a boat!"

Inspiration is like that. Even though it's right in front of us, sometimes we have trouble recognizing it for what it is. I run up against this each time I sit down and think about what I want to write. But then, I open my eyes and suddenly there's no shortage of subjects to write about.

Another great thing about inspiration is that it can spur us on to accomplish things we wouldn't normally think we could. For example, this morning I saw lots of thin, healthy people out walking and jogging. And I was inspired. So I went to Starbuck's, had a large Mighty Mango smoothie and a thick slice of banana walnut bread, and thought for a long time about how tired all those thin, healthy people were going to be when they finished.

Couldn't help myself, I was inspired.

Here's another example. Just yesterday morning I saw people leaving their homes and going to work. It made me think about what it'd be like to have a full time job to go to everyday. The same office day in and day out. The same people. The same conversations, same meetings and same fights day after day, year after year. After a while, I did more than think about it. I was inspired, so I immediately changed my job title from freelance copywriter to Free Time Management Engineer, and just like that (snaps fingers) I had a full time job.

And, not bragging here, I'm damn good at it.

I hope this post has inspired you to look around, take in what you see, create ideas and then put them into action through words and deeds. I know just writing it has inspired me.

I'm going to take a nap.