As I sit in W308 (my second home) I ponder the path Eman The Wingman has travelled in the past three months... and wow, have I learned a lot!!
A single blog will not hold the amount of information I've learned so I will not post it here. All I know is that I've changed a lot since sitting in that orientation room downstairs on our first day as CreComm students. Sitting here now, I could say that I had no clue how much invaluable things I'd be learning from that day: from PR to Ad to journalism to broadcasting to my grammar and writing - wowzers!
January 4th is when we come back. I heard semester two was supposed to be harder than semester one so I'm excited about that :( - Well, I guess at least I know what to expect!
Semester two here we go!!!
Thursday, December 10
Wednesday, December 9
I was allowed to live.
Today was pretty much the hardest day of the week and, probably, of the entire semester.
We wrote our PR and Ad exams today. It was highly anticipated. We studied until blood flowed from our eyes, ears, and noses. Team Ampersand was there til the end.
It was awesome studying with the team. We all got together and quizzed each other PR questions on life cycle of public opinion, principles of persuasion, theoretical models of PR, and Steve Dunkletooth's favouritest: 9 ways PR contributes to the bottom line. It was worth every drop of blood.
At the end of the day, all i can say is :) - the hard part is done.
Monday, December 7
Teriyaki Chicken Maki
In addition to my love for chicken wings, I also have an-almost-addiction to sushi. I mean, who doesn't? Sushi is awesome. But I must admit, when I started eating sushi, I wasn't all 'gung ho' about it. I started with the cooked kind of sushi - teriyaki chicken which was basically a piece of breaded chicken breast in a sushi roll with teriyaki sauce; dynamite roll which was cooked shrimp with mayo and some fish roe.
I was super influenced by a Japanese friend who I was roommates with in dorm at Prov College in 2005. He taught me a lot about his culture and in turn, I taught him the difference between the words 'light' and 'right' because the Japanese language does not have 'l' sounds.
I chose Tomohito Ogasawara as the subject of my personality profile assignment for my journalism course. I thought Tom was particularly interesting to write about because of the challenges he had to overcome in order to fully integrate himself into North American living. His sense of humour was something that everyone remembered about him on top of his humility and determination.
I wish to honour him on my blog my posting his story here :) He is living proof that hard work and determination will get you where you want to be.
(photo taken from Access Winnipeg accesswinnipeg.com)
---
Tomohito Ogasawara
He sleeps in a t-shirt, a sweater, and jeans over his sweat pants. He also sets the room’s baseboard heater thermostat to the maximum 30 degrees Celsius before encasing himself in a cocoon of blanket. That is how Tom feels about Winnipeg weather. Few know him by his real name, Tomohito Ogasawara, as a lot of people are intimidated by its pronunciation and spelling, but the opposite can be said about Tom’s personality.
“He is friendly and good to everybody,” says Nikki Sung, one of the owners of Sushi Train At The Forks where Tom has worked as a Sushi Chef for the last three and a half years.
Tom moved from Nagoya City, Japan in January 2005 to pursue Biblical and Theological Studies at Providence College and Seminary in Otterburne, Manitoba to become a pastor. After a year and a half of college, Tom realizes the good life Canada has to offer and puts his studies on hold. He wants to get Canadian Immigration but first needs to work for a minimum of two years according to the standard requirements for his specific condition.
For Tom, hard work and dedication is engrained in his life. At 41 years old, he still likes to be challenged and to try different things. Learning english has been one of the toughest things he ever had to do.
“I hardly used English when I lived in Japan. Still, it takes time what I really want to say,” says Tom, correcting himself twice in mid-sentence before finishing.
Tom admits that not being able to put into words what he wants to say can be stressful at times. He keeps a pocket-sized, electronic translator that gives him word definitions, synonyms, and even their pronunciations.
Tom’s current challenge is undertaking piano lessons. He walks 20 blocks one way to get to his lessons every Tuesday because his bike was stolen.
He smiles as he says, “Most people take piano lessons when they’re kids. I want to try everything.”
When asked about Tom as a beginner piano student, piano teacher Don Kissick says, “He’s a very intense person. He likes to know exactly how things work in and out.” Kissick says he has to be careful how he words his sentences as Tom takes what he says very seriously.
Kissick continues, “Having worked for a Japanese company in the past, I know that his personality is unique for us, but it’s not that unique for Japanese people. When they do something, they do it, and Tom is like that.”
Tom left early October to visit Japan and said he would pick up on his lessons after one month of being gone. Kissick thought he would never see Tom again. Shortly after he arrives in Winnipeg, Tom calls Kissick and says he is ready to start again.
Jenny La is a waitress at Sushi Train At The Forks. She has known Tom for a year and a half. “He is a loyal friend,” says La. “Every time his friends come in, he always makes a special dish for them.”
When asked to describe Tom in one sentence, his roommate Aaron Griffiths says “Tom is a fastidious Christian gentleman of the Orient.” The two men met through a mutual friend and have shared a Roslyn Road apartment for the last two years.
Since moving to Canada, Tom has made numerous friendships. He never married and has had no children. During Christmas last year, Tom met his now girlfriend Miyako when she visited Winnipeg for the first time. 36-year-old Miyako Inoue is Tom’s first girlfriend. Since Inoue lives in Japan, they keep in contact through e-mail and internet chat.
“She’s not hot at all,” chuckles Tom with the revelation. “But I like her personality.” He has plans to bring Inoue to Canada if they marry.
Eventually, Tom would like to get his Canadian Citizenship, buy a car, and open a restaurant business in Winnipeg. For now, he will continue to walk to his piano lessons and finish the beginner level while staying warm the best he can.
Tom’s piano teacher summarizes him the best: “What you see is what you get.”
Sunday, December 6
These Wings Were Made For Flying
I have a semi-fictional story to tell you. Fictional in the sense that I changed the proper names but most of it is pretty factual :) So without further adieu, I give you: "Warrior"
Hope you enjoy this... I'm going to try to get it published and maybe have a read at McNally Robinson Polo Park wearing a red smoking jacket and a monocle by the fireplace.
---
The altimeter read 2,300 feet and climbing at 500 feet per minute. In that brief moment of time, on that clear sunny day, everything was in its place and things could not have been better. For Max, getting the Warrior safely off the ground was just one of the things on his agenda. Today, he would be climbing at an altitude of 8,000 feet over the small town of Vita, 25 miles northeast of Budapest to practice his upper air work, in preparation for his first cross country solo flight.
…
Max Paluzski was enrolled in one of Hungary’s top flight schools, András Aviation Academy, accredited for its safety record and noted for its world class pilots who were able to find jobs internationally. A select number of students were chosen each year to attend its specialized program. Selection was based on rigorous aptitude testing, behaviourial testing, stress management testing, and a final interview. Successful candidates went through a final test where they were put in an aviation simulator that recorded their reactions to potentially dangerous situations while flying at a speed of 170 knots – the equivalent groundspeed of 311 km/h.
Max was one of the lucky ones. Every year, the academy accepted 150 new students to their highly advanced training program. Thousands apply each year and only those who displayed the exemplary skills and potentials were accepted. Max had been dreaming of getting into the academy since graduating high school. His parents’ death from a tragic accident when he was 16 years old had made an indelible impact in his life that he needed to prove to himself he could do anything he set out for himself to accomplish. And completing the flight program at András Aviation Academy is one of them.
Growing up, Max Paluzski never once thought he’d be enjoying the sun’s warmth inside the cockpit of a Cessna Piper Warrior cruising at 100 knots. As a child, Max dreamed a lot. He dreamed of being a doctor curing diseases; a fireman putting out flames; a businessman owning one of the biggest franchises on earth; and amongst these boyhood dreams was to become an airline pilot, touring and exploring the world. Max was sheltered from the outside world; was raised in Bulacan, a small town in the countryside, 45 miles southeast of Riga, Latvia. His parents, both teachers in the local elementary school, taught him the values of hard work, perseverance, and humility. Max only saw the outside world through pictures and heard about other townsfolk’s experiences through their stories. His dreams and ambition were his only connection to the world outside Bulacan. It was something that, at the end of the day, he could escape to; without having rules or boundaries.
…
As the vertical speed indicator reached his desired climb speed of 900 feet per minute, Max opened the throttle to 2500 rpm, leveling off the Warrior at its ideal cruise setting. As he checked the cockpit’s gauges, he looked out the window caught a glimpse of the ground below him. Straight lines outlined perfect squares and rectangles of land that stretched as far as the eyes could see. The roads that lined the plots of land ran perfectly along the four cardinal points as if designed by Mother Nature. There were no two sections of earth that were alike. Each one had its own distinct colour and topography. The lighter ones in shade were farmlands inhabited by families and their livestock. The sections darker in shade were coloured by the trees and bushes that occupied the space. Max knew that in the unfortunate event of an emergency, landing staying away from the darker shaded land increased his chances of landing the plane safely and surviving an emergency situation.
As Max turned his attention back to the dials inside the plane, he was reminded of an experience he had a month ago that could have ended his training at the academy. As a prerequisite before being able to fly solo in the Warrior, students had to perform and get out of dangerous situations airplanes could fall into. One of them was called the spiral. When a plane’s nose was slightly pointed down, and its wing banked on one side, the plane could easily slip into a spiral maneuver. This was experienced as the plane spiraled in a circular motion, still upright, gaining speed as it got closer to the ground. If an unwary pilot did not realize the situation he was in, the control stick eventually gets too hard to pull, too difficult to correct and would cause the plane to crash crushing its passengers instantly due to the great speed upon impact. To get out of the spiral, the pilot must act quickly. Closing the throttle would put the engine on idle then he must straighten the wings to its neutral position while pulling the nose of the plane back up to level with the horizon. Max barely got out of the last spiral he put himself in and realized after that quick reflexes was a pilot’s best quality. After landing the Warrior, he took a second to pray and thank God for keeping him safe. It was another experience to learn from nonetheless.
The altimeter reading was now at 8,400 feet above sea level. The vertical speed indicator showed a climb rate of 50 feet per minute. Max overshot his target altitude by 400 feet. He closed the throttle and pointed the nose down to lose the extra height. As he descended, he quickly scanned the outside surrounding for traffic including other aircraft and birds flying into his path. His instructor warned him about birds. At that speed and altitude, the damage of a bird hitting the plane was equivalent to the damage of a wrecking ball smashing into a brick wall. Once clear, he set the throttle back to cruise speed of 2500 rpm. Max did another cockpit scan for his gauges. He checked the airspeed. He checked the altimeter; now at 8,000 feet. He checked the rpms and the vsi again. Then, he did a quick scan outside the window before his radio call.
“Budapest control, this is Cessna Piper Delta Tango Alpha. Current position is two miles south of Vita at 8,000 feet doing upper air work. Delta Tango Alpha.”
Within half a second of Max’s radio call to dispatch, he began his final maneuver into the spin. He grabbed the throttle, cutting engine power. He pulled the knob out for carburetor heat to keep the engine warm. As he pulled the control stick back as far as it could go, the buzz of the stall horn came on indicating a nose dive was imminent. Perfect entry he thought. As the nose pointed toward the ground below him, he threw in full right aileron bank putting the Warrior in a full, perpendicular downward spin headed straight to the ground. With a half-smile, Max loudly recited the maneuvers to correct the situation he imposed on himself:
“Full right rudder. Straighten wings. Pull up!”
As the Warrior stabilized to straight flight, he slowly added engine power and turned off the carburetor heat. He executed the commands flawlessly. The only way to survive an airplane in a spin was to do all the commands in the right order, in the right timing. Max ended the exercise with another radio call. He announced his altitude at 6,500 feet flying westbound with a location two miles of south of Vita. After getting his bearings, he headed back to base just in time for lunch.
…
Upon entering the room, the immediate aroma of ketchup filled the air. For any lunch time, the smell of ketchup meant two things: French fries and grilled cheese. The lineup for food was long, as Max had expected. At twelve thirty, the cafeteria was the only place any student should be. As Max jumped in line, he spotted Rikard Penner and Andreas Campbell at the condiment station. Rikard and Andreas was busy talking about their morning flight as they ladled ketchup on their French fries. Max yelled out their names and swiped two grilled cheese sandwiches and some fries onto his plate and caught up with the boys at the table.
Sitting at the table were the three student pilots who had been friends since the first day of school. As they enjoyed the greasy lunch, Max recalled meeting Andreas in dorm. Andreas and Max met in the dormitories where they were assigned roommates. Rikard shared a room at the end of the hall with a quiet fellow from China named John Lau. While in Jansen Hall, in the east wing of the Bergen Hall dormitory, Max made a few friendships that he didn’t know would cultivate into something more meaningful. The three were all enrolled in the advance program of aeronautical acrobatics and together found a commonality amongst them; a sense of community, a brotherhood. Yet, it was at the cafeteria table, that same corner table by the far wall where the three had the chance to catch up and talk about their day. As loud chatter from the other students at the other tables filled the room, Rikard, Andreas, and Max talked about their morning by discussing the difficulties of the exercises and the requirements that need to be fulfilled before finally being permitted to go on a cross-country solo flight in the Warrior. Rikard admitted he needed more practice with spins while Andreas, being the more advance of the three said the slow flight exercise was really easy. Max found his skill level between Rikard and Andreas. He found some of the exercises as difficult as Rikard described but was also quick to learn like Andreas. Being all 24 years old, the three were inseparable; when one ate, all three ate. When one slept, all three slept. All of them even shared the same love for Halo 3, as a past time when they were not flying. After lunch, the trio walked back to Bergen Hall. Tuesday was a short day; flight training in the morning and flight planning in the afternoon. It was an easy day for them.
…
Back in the Hansen wing, the dorm came alive. Each wing has 16 rooms. Each room boarded two students. When thirty two guys were kept in the same confines, nothing got done. Dorm was a place for rest, relaxation, brotherhood, and a place where the boys could just be boys. The afternoon between lunch and dinner was known as Halo o’clock when the wing’s IT network was put to good use. Thirty two combatants clog the virtual space as they shot, sliced, and blew each other up through the video game carnage that was Halo 3. As you walked through the halls of Jansen, all you saw was the glare that emanated from the TV screens in the rooms and the sound of loud kablams and kabooms as bombs and rockets blew bodies up into mangled pieces tossed up in the air. Nothing unified the dorm like a good round of Halo 3. As the game unfolded, Max and Andreas had ganged up on Rikard and his quiet roommate from China. This was where Max’s abilities limited him. Video games were not something he was good at. Though he played a lot when he was a boy, video games were something that Max quickly grew out of. When his parents died in a horrific plane crash, Max had to grow up even faster. He no longer enjoyed doing the simple things that boys his age enjoyed like going out with friends, watching movies, and even riding his bike. Accepting his parents’ death was difficult for Max to deal with and was constantly thinking why it had to happen to him. Their death could have been avoided had the airline pilot choose not to drink before climbing into the cockpit. The grisly sounds of the video games made Max realize he was losing at Halo 3. He put the game controller down because the sheer violence reminded him of the loss of the two most important people in his life. It was a good time for him to grab his backpack and study. He politely excused himself from the room and headed out for the library.
It was close to six o’clock. The sun was about to set on the clear September evening and the skies were filled with beautiful hues of red-orange, purple, and yellow, as the light of the sun slowly retreated in the distant horizon. The wind was calm and the gentle rustle of leaves could be heard on the field across the academy’s main building. As he approached the entrance, he saw a crowd of guys huddled around the TV screens mounted on the walls set to televise news from around the world. As he entered, all he could hear was a news reporter stating the situation of the war had been escalated to a state of emergency. The Americans had declared war over Germany. Living in Hungary, its government was loyal to that of Germany, as part of its commonwealth. The Germans were in desperate need for pilots. According to the chief flight commander of the András Aviation Academy, all qualified students would be assigned on a mission to aid in the war. All those who had completed their upper air work exercises would be assigned to a fly with a flight instructor to aid in humanitarian purposes. They would be flying into the warzone to drop supplies.
Max could not believe his ears as the announcement sent the students in the academy’s main lobby in a frenzy of confusion. Suddenly, everyone erupted in a barrage of questions only to be shut down by the chief flight commander as he stated only those who qualified would have their names appear on the TV screens. As Max desperately tried to process and digest the information he just received, it crossed his mind that Rikard and Andreas were still in the dorm, playing Halo 3, engrossed in their virtual world while real people were about to be sent out to experience the real thing, out in the real world just a few hundred kilometers outside the safety of the academy.
Max, filled with determination, was reminded by a flash of a recent picture of his parents and found the courage to walk up to the TV monitor to check for his name. He knew exactly where he was in his training and expected his name to be on that list. He waited a few seconds as the list got to the section of the alphabet where his last name should be. The monitor read: Paluzski, Max: qualified specialist, acrobatics major, solo flight ready.
In that brief moment of time, everything was in its place. For Max, this was the break he was looking for; a moment to prove that he could do what he set out for himself to do. As he stood in the lobby, he clenched his fists as if to muster the strength from his feet as the chief looked at him. Without the exchange of words, he gave Max the affirmation he needed.
For Max, getting the Warrior safely off the ground was just one of the things on his agenda that evening.
Hope you enjoy this... I'm going to try to get it published and maybe have a read at McNally Robinson Polo Park wearing a red smoking jacket and a monocle by the fireplace.
---
The altimeter read 2,300 feet and climbing at 500 feet per minute. In that brief moment of time, on that clear sunny day, everything was in its place and things could not have been better. For Max, getting the Warrior safely off the ground was just one of the things on his agenda. Today, he would be climbing at an altitude of 8,000 feet over the small town of Vita, 25 miles northeast of Budapest to practice his upper air work, in preparation for his first cross country solo flight.
…
Max Paluzski was enrolled in one of Hungary’s top flight schools, András Aviation Academy, accredited for its safety record and noted for its world class pilots who were able to find jobs internationally. A select number of students were chosen each year to attend its specialized program. Selection was based on rigorous aptitude testing, behaviourial testing, stress management testing, and a final interview. Successful candidates went through a final test where they were put in an aviation simulator that recorded their reactions to potentially dangerous situations while flying at a speed of 170 knots – the equivalent groundspeed of 311 km/h.
Max was one of the lucky ones. Every year, the academy accepted 150 new students to their highly advanced training program. Thousands apply each year and only those who displayed the exemplary skills and potentials were accepted. Max had been dreaming of getting into the academy since graduating high school. His parents’ death from a tragic accident when he was 16 years old had made an indelible impact in his life that he needed to prove to himself he could do anything he set out for himself to accomplish. And completing the flight program at András Aviation Academy is one of them.
Growing up, Max Paluzski never once thought he’d be enjoying the sun’s warmth inside the cockpit of a Cessna Piper Warrior cruising at 100 knots. As a child, Max dreamed a lot. He dreamed of being a doctor curing diseases; a fireman putting out flames; a businessman owning one of the biggest franchises on earth; and amongst these boyhood dreams was to become an airline pilot, touring and exploring the world. Max was sheltered from the outside world; was raised in Bulacan, a small town in the countryside, 45 miles southeast of Riga, Latvia. His parents, both teachers in the local elementary school, taught him the values of hard work, perseverance, and humility. Max only saw the outside world through pictures and heard about other townsfolk’s experiences through their stories. His dreams and ambition were his only connection to the world outside Bulacan. It was something that, at the end of the day, he could escape to; without having rules or boundaries.
…
As the vertical speed indicator reached his desired climb speed of 900 feet per minute, Max opened the throttle to 2500 rpm, leveling off the Warrior at its ideal cruise setting. As he checked the cockpit’s gauges, he looked out the window caught a glimpse of the ground below him. Straight lines outlined perfect squares and rectangles of land that stretched as far as the eyes could see. The roads that lined the plots of land ran perfectly along the four cardinal points as if designed by Mother Nature. There were no two sections of earth that were alike. Each one had its own distinct colour and topography. The lighter ones in shade were farmlands inhabited by families and their livestock. The sections darker in shade were coloured by the trees and bushes that occupied the space. Max knew that in the unfortunate event of an emergency, landing staying away from the darker shaded land increased his chances of landing the plane safely and surviving an emergency situation.
As Max turned his attention back to the dials inside the plane, he was reminded of an experience he had a month ago that could have ended his training at the academy. As a prerequisite before being able to fly solo in the Warrior, students had to perform and get out of dangerous situations airplanes could fall into. One of them was called the spiral. When a plane’s nose was slightly pointed down, and its wing banked on one side, the plane could easily slip into a spiral maneuver. This was experienced as the plane spiraled in a circular motion, still upright, gaining speed as it got closer to the ground. If an unwary pilot did not realize the situation he was in, the control stick eventually gets too hard to pull, too difficult to correct and would cause the plane to crash crushing its passengers instantly due to the great speed upon impact. To get out of the spiral, the pilot must act quickly. Closing the throttle would put the engine on idle then he must straighten the wings to its neutral position while pulling the nose of the plane back up to level with the horizon. Max barely got out of the last spiral he put himself in and realized after that quick reflexes was a pilot’s best quality. After landing the Warrior, he took a second to pray and thank God for keeping him safe. It was another experience to learn from nonetheless.
The altimeter reading was now at 8,400 feet above sea level. The vertical speed indicator showed a climb rate of 50 feet per minute. Max overshot his target altitude by 400 feet. He closed the throttle and pointed the nose down to lose the extra height. As he descended, he quickly scanned the outside surrounding for traffic including other aircraft and birds flying into his path. His instructor warned him about birds. At that speed and altitude, the damage of a bird hitting the plane was equivalent to the damage of a wrecking ball smashing into a brick wall. Once clear, he set the throttle back to cruise speed of 2500 rpm. Max did another cockpit scan for his gauges. He checked the airspeed. He checked the altimeter; now at 8,000 feet. He checked the rpms and the vsi again. Then, he did a quick scan outside the window before his radio call.
“Budapest control, this is Cessna Piper Delta Tango Alpha. Current position is two miles south of Vita at 8,000 feet doing upper air work. Delta Tango Alpha.”
Within half a second of Max’s radio call to dispatch, he began his final maneuver into the spin. He grabbed the throttle, cutting engine power. He pulled the knob out for carburetor heat to keep the engine warm. As he pulled the control stick back as far as it could go, the buzz of the stall horn came on indicating a nose dive was imminent. Perfect entry he thought. As the nose pointed toward the ground below him, he threw in full right aileron bank putting the Warrior in a full, perpendicular downward spin headed straight to the ground. With a half-smile, Max loudly recited the maneuvers to correct the situation he imposed on himself:
“Full right rudder. Straighten wings. Pull up!”
As the Warrior stabilized to straight flight, he slowly added engine power and turned off the carburetor heat. He executed the commands flawlessly. The only way to survive an airplane in a spin was to do all the commands in the right order, in the right timing. Max ended the exercise with another radio call. He announced his altitude at 6,500 feet flying westbound with a location two miles of south of Vita. After getting his bearings, he headed back to base just in time for lunch.
…
Upon entering the room, the immediate aroma of ketchup filled the air. For any lunch time, the smell of ketchup meant two things: French fries and grilled cheese. The lineup for food was long, as Max had expected. At twelve thirty, the cafeteria was the only place any student should be. As Max jumped in line, he spotted Rikard Penner and Andreas Campbell at the condiment station. Rikard and Andreas was busy talking about their morning flight as they ladled ketchup on their French fries. Max yelled out their names and swiped two grilled cheese sandwiches and some fries onto his plate and caught up with the boys at the table.
Sitting at the table were the three student pilots who had been friends since the first day of school. As they enjoyed the greasy lunch, Max recalled meeting Andreas in dorm. Andreas and Max met in the dormitories where they were assigned roommates. Rikard shared a room at the end of the hall with a quiet fellow from China named John Lau. While in Jansen Hall, in the east wing of the Bergen Hall dormitory, Max made a few friendships that he didn’t know would cultivate into something more meaningful. The three were all enrolled in the advance program of aeronautical acrobatics and together found a commonality amongst them; a sense of community, a brotherhood. Yet, it was at the cafeteria table, that same corner table by the far wall where the three had the chance to catch up and talk about their day. As loud chatter from the other students at the other tables filled the room, Rikard, Andreas, and Max talked about their morning by discussing the difficulties of the exercises and the requirements that need to be fulfilled before finally being permitted to go on a cross-country solo flight in the Warrior. Rikard admitted he needed more practice with spins while Andreas, being the more advance of the three said the slow flight exercise was really easy. Max found his skill level between Rikard and Andreas. He found some of the exercises as difficult as Rikard described but was also quick to learn like Andreas. Being all 24 years old, the three were inseparable; when one ate, all three ate. When one slept, all three slept. All of them even shared the same love for Halo 3, as a past time when they were not flying. After lunch, the trio walked back to Bergen Hall. Tuesday was a short day; flight training in the morning and flight planning in the afternoon. It was an easy day for them.
…
Back in the Hansen wing, the dorm came alive. Each wing has 16 rooms. Each room boarded two students. When thirty two guys were kept in the same confines, nothing got done. Dorm was a place for rest, relaxation, brotherhood, and a place where the boys could just be boys. The afternoon between lunch and dinner was known as Halo o’clock when the wing’s IT network was put to good use. Thirty two combatants clog the virtual space as they shot, sliced, and blew each other up through the video game carnage that was Halo 3. As you walked through the halls of Jansen, all you saw was the glare that emanated from the TV screens in the rooms and the sound of loud kablams and kabooms as bombs and rockets blew bodies up into mangled pieces tossed up in the air. Nothing unified the dorm like a good round of Halo 3. As the game unfolded, Max and Andreas had ganged up on Rikard and his quiet roommate from China. This was where Max’s abilities limited him. Video games were not something he was good at. Though he played a lot when he was a boy, video games were something that Max quickly grew out of. When his parents died in a horrific plane crash, Max had to grow up even faster. He no longer enjoyed doing the simple things that boys his age enjoyed like going out with friends, watching movies, and even riding his bike. Accepting his parents’ death was difficult for Max to deal with and was constantly thinking why it had to happen to him. Their death could have been avoided had the airline pilot choose not to drink before climbing into the cockpit. The grisly sounds of the video games made Max realize he was losing at Halo 3. He put the game controller down because the sheer violence reminded him of the loss of the two most important people in his life. It was a good time for him to grab his backpack and study. He politely excused himself from the room and headed out for the library.
It was close to six o’clock. The sun was about to set on the clear September evening and the skies were filled with beautiful hues of red-orange, purple, and yellow, as the light of the sun slowly retreated in the distant horizon. The wind was calm and the gentle rustle of leaves could be heard on the field across the academy’s main building. As he approached the entrance, he saw a crowd of guys huddled around the TV screens mounted on the walls set to televise news from around the world. As he entered, all he could hear was a news reporter stating the situation of the war had been escalated to a state of emergency. The Americans had declared war over Germany. Living in Hungary, its government was loyal to that of Germany, as part of its commonwealth. The Germans were in desperate need for pilots. According to the chief flight commander of the András Aviation Academy, all qualified students would be assigned on a mission to aid in the war. All those who had completed their upper air work exercises would be assigned to a fly with a flight instructor to aid in humanitarian purposes. They would be flying into the warzone to drop supplies.
Max could not believe his ears as the announcement sent the students in the academy’s main lobby in a frenzy of confusion. Suddenly, everyone erupted in a barrage of questions only to be shut down by the chief flight commander as he stated only those who qualified would have their names appear on the TV screens. As Max desperately tried to process and digest the information he just received, it crossed his mind that Rikard and Andreas were still in the dorm, playing Halo 3, engrossed in their virtual world while real people were about to be sent out to experience the real thing, out in the real world just a few hundred kilometers outside the safety of the academy.
Max, filled with determination, was reminded by a flash of a recent picture of his parents and found the courage to walk up to the TV monitor to check for his name. He knew exactly where he was in his training and expected his name to be on that list. He waited a few seconds as the list got to the section of the alphabet where his last name should be. The monitor read: Paluzski, Max: qualified specialist, acrobatics major, solo flight ready.
In that brief moment of time, everything was in its place. For Max, this was the break he was looking for; a moment to prove that he could do what he set out for himself to do. As he stood in the lobby, he clenched his fists as if to muster the strength from his feet as the chief looked at him. Without the exchange of words, he gave Max the affirmation he needed.
For Max, getting the Warrior safely off the ground was just one of the things on his agenda that evening.
Friday, December 4
Try this: Crack-Stuffed Chicken
If you thought I was talking about crack - as in cocaine - you were right!
A man Guatemala was arrested in a Virginia airport dec.4 for carrying a cooked chicken stuffed with more than four thousand dollars worth of cocaine.
I originally found the news on Canadian Press' newswire but here is the article from a web URL:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34273476/ns/local_news-washington_dc/
Customs officials say the 32-year-old Guatemalan citizen was detained at Dulles International Airport in McLean, Va., last Saturday after authorities found 60.4 grams of cocaine inside a fully-cooked chicken he was carrying on a flight coming from El Salvador.
When inspectors examined the cooked poultry, they found a white powdery substance inside two small plastic bags stored inside the chicken's cavity.
The drugs have a street value of about $4,300, officials said.
While unusual, last weekend's episode is certainly not rare. In fact, one may be surprised at the lengths people continue to go to conceal narcotics.
---
Haha, what a guy!...
I guess he was thinking the idea wasn't going to be suspicious but that's more of something people do when travelling on a bus. I mean, who brings a whole chicken to a flight? Haha, what a guy!
A man Guatemala was arrested in a Virginia airport dec.4 for carrying a cooked chicken stuffed with more than four thousand dollars worth of cocaine.
I originally found the news on Canadian Press' newswire but here is the article from a web URL:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34273476/ns/local_news-washington_dc/
Customs officials say the 32-year-old Guatemalan citizen was detained at Dulles International Airport in McLean, Va., last Saturday after authorities found 60.4 grams of cocaine inside a fully-cooked chicken he was carrying on a flight coming from El Salvador.
When inspectors examined the cooked poultry, they found a white powdery substance inside two small plastic bags stored inside the chicken's cavity.
The drugs have a street value of about $4,300, officials said.
While unusual, last weekend's episode is certainly not rare. In fact, one may be surprised at the lengths people continue to go to conceal narcotics.
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Haha, what a guy!...
I guess he was thinking the idea wasn't going to be suspicious but that's more of something people do when travelling on a bus. I mean, who brings a whole chicken to a flight? Haha, what a guy!
Bottom of the priority list and taking the shot
I took the H1N1 shot today. It took 2 minutes.
(but i didn't administer it on myself like this roidmonkey did) photo taken from:http://s3.images.com
What bothered me was that students didn't really take full advantage of the free shot that was offered on campus today!
"OTTAWA — If every Canadian heeds the advice of public health officials to get the H1N1 shot, there will not be enough vaccine available by Christmas as the federal government has been promising, the chief public health officer acknowledged Tuesday."
- http://www.canada.com/health/Feds+promise+H1N1+shot+Canadians+Christmas/2233699/story.html
I know people have a lot of concerns when taking needles/shots and how it would react with their bodies but the general consensus is: eveyone should take the flu shot.
Given that health officials were saying there weren't enough shots to give out to every Canadian if they opted for it was a concern in its self. But students not taking it when it was offered to us, on our own convenience, was kinda ridiculous. I do understand that people, of course, have the choice of whether or not they wanted the flu vaccine, but considering the demand for it was similar to throwing out food when other people were starving around the world.
Tell me if I was wrong to think this way, but perhaps like me being on the bottom of the list, people felt the need to reserve the shot for someone else that needed it.
Does this make me feel selfish? A little bit. But I also want to make sure I don't catch the flu and spread it. If the doctors and health officials say we need to take the shot to protect ourselves, I just don't understand why people wouldn't do it. There's no catch here, it's not like their gonna send you telemarketing promos cuz you entered your name and phone no. on the application form! It's to improve your immune system and protect yourself!!! So take it!
(but i didn't administer it on myself like this roidmonkey did) photo taken from:http://s3.images.com
What bothered me was that students didn't really take full advantage of the free shot that was offered on campus today!
"OTTAWA — If every Canadian heeds the advice of public health officials to get the H1N1 shot, there will not be enough vaccine available by Christmas as the federal government has been promising, the chief public health officer acknowledged Tuesday."
- http://www.canada.com/health/Feds+promise+H1N1+shot+Canadians+Christmas/2233699/story.html
I know people have a lot of concerns when taking needles/shots and how it would react with their bodies but the general consensus is: eveyone should take the flu shot.
Given that health officials were saying there weren't enough shots to give out to every Canadian if they opted for it was a concern in its self. But students not taking it when it was offered to us, on our own convenience, was kinda ridiculous. I do understand that people, of course, have the choice of whether or not they wanted the flu vaccine, but considering the demand for it was similar to throwing out food when other people were starving around the world.
Tell me if I was wrong to think this way, but perhaps like me being on the bottom of the list, people felt the need to reserve the shot for someone else that needed it.
Does this make me feel selfish? A little bit. But I also want to make sure I don't catch the flu and spread it. If the doctors and health officials say we need to take the shot to protect ourselves, I just don't understand why people wouldn't do it. There's no catch here, it's not like their gonna send you telemarketing promos cuz you entered your name and phone no. on the application form! It's to improve your immune system and protect yourself!!! So take it!
Lack of Wings In My Life
I've said it and it sucks....
There has been, in fact, a lack of chicken wings in my life. This event could be blamed on school and its many insanities :)
Lately, we've been pounded with many assignments and exams to study for. It's insane the amount of stuff we need to juggle in the past couple of weeks and now it's exam time - it's final crunch time!
I know a lot of people are freaking out because of all the stuff we need to accomplish. I think there's a word they use when you're feeling this way. Oh yeah, "overwhelmed"... or is it "suicidal"? I'm sure they're direct synonyms... (by the way, I was joking about the suicidal bit. Please don't report me to a helpline for this).
But going back to talking about my emotions, I definitely feel the pinch (in my brain). And because I also got the flu shot, my arm is starting to hurt.
Thanks for listening :)
There has been, in fact, a lack of chicken wings in my life. This event could be blamed on school and its many insanities :)
Lately, we've been pounded with many assignments and exams to study for. It's insane the amount of stuff we need to juggle in the past couple of weeks and now it's exam time - it's final crunch time!
I know a lot of people are freaking out because of all the stuff we need to accomplish. I think there's a word they use when you're feeling this way. Oh yeah, "overwhelmed"... or is it "suicidal"? I'm sure they're direct synonyms... (by the way, I was joking about the suicidal bit. Please don't report me to a helpline for this).
But going back to talking about my emotions, I definitely feel the pinch (in my brain). And because I also got the flu shot, my arm is starting to hurt.
Thanks for listening :)
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