Too much (unproductive) work and no play makes tom a dull boy.




This shit will be in your head all night.

This is actually something I've intended to write for a while....

I found Janey McJanestein through an apyus rec about a year ago, and I found what she wrote to be very interesting. And I then read another entry she had that was very interesting. So I subscribed but really didn't comment--it seemed that Jane was quite selective of her commenters and a private person. So I just read from a distance...and then she showed up and said things like "I know you're stalking me you freak, you don't want to piss me off, you better comment or I'll pwn your ass, amigo." To which I replied "Hey, watch the language. I'll comment, but because I want to, not cause you said to." In reality I was quite intimidated but I had to put on an act.

It is true, however, that she is a very private person--only some things I could gather from her website: She is a very good and precise thinker, she has an affinity for truth, her site is dedicated to her beautiful daughter, and that she is a Heroes fan (at the time last year she had a count-down timer for the season premier.)

And there were things to come from each of those four things I gathered initially: She can be very intellectually stimulating in conversation, she doesn't care about being "right" but she does care about being real and genuine, she is beautiful like her daughter, and I am now addicted to Heroes.

Janefred Jangleheimerschmidt also has a vast collection of pens and markers.



This is because there are times she *really* has to write shit down...apparently.

But she does work with some print and paper design stuff. It is one of her hobbies--and I think she does it pretty well!

She is also a fiction prose and poetry writer--if you read her website, and I encourage you to do so, you will see some of the things she writes.

She has a lot of emotional intelligence, has allegiance strongly to those things she knows to be right and true, and respects others and others' values. She is a private person--and grants that to everyone else. These qualities have made her into one of my best friends: She can understand, do the right thing, respect, and truly has a "vault" (Seinfeld reference: ...if you tell her something you want kept private, she'll keep it private forever lol.) Plus, she is cute, so that helps, too.

This one is a true blue.

{Insert Jane-love below; or visit her site.}

An aircraft has four basic "forces" acting on it during flight.

These can be visualized as vector components--like arrows pointing in the direction of the force taking into account the magnitude of the force.

In straight and level flight, where the aircraft is not turning or ascending or descending, the four forces are equal--canceling each other out to keep the airplane in the air. To achieve this, and airplane uses its engines to produce thrust to counteract aerodynamic drag--and it uses its wings to counteract gravity.

The four forces listed are Thrust, Lift, Drag, Gravity/Weight.

---

An airplane has three control methods: Aileron (also flaperons), elevator, and rudder. They are controlled with the control yoke and floor pedals (which tilt for the brakes.)

Elevator:


By pulling the yoke toward one's body, the aircraft will pitch upward--pushing the yoke away will cause a pitch downward.

This changes the attitude of the aircraft, as indicated by the attitude indicator.




Aileron:

By turning the yoke like you would a car's steering wheel, it will cause the airplane to roll from side to side. This happens because when one turns the yoke to the right, the aileron on the left wing raises and causes that wing to drop--and the right aileron lowers, causing it to ascend.


The result of the turn can be seen in the attitude indicator--which will tell you the degree of the roll. For a shallow turn, a 5-15 degree turn; for a medium turn, 15-30; for a steep turn, 45 to 90 degrees is used.

Rudder:

The pedals on the floor are pressed in the direction of the yaw desired.


The rudder is a very important control surface--it can cause skids and slips and also to maintain a coordinated turn. Aircraft use "forward slips" to slow down, and "side slips" to line up for landing in cross-winds. A forward slip can be used for an emergency descent to regulate speed--full rudder to one side, aileron in the opposite direction--the flight path remains forward, but the aircraft is then pointing several degrees away causing great aerodynamic drag. This drag is compensated by converting altitude into speed--thus a very fast descent is initiated.



In windy conditions, an airplane's flight path is often a few or more degrees away from the direction of the aircraft--the airplane appears to be flying crooked. That is called "crabbing." On landing in a cross wind, an airplane "crabs" toward the runway, but it cannot land in a crab angle (some can, but most do not), thus the aircraft will roll into the wind and then use rudder to counteract the turn--the side slip points the airplane in the direction of the flight path along the runway, allowing it to land while pointing forward.



If the wind gets underneath the wing of the aircraft during an unsuccessful side slip, a ground loop can result:



Turning:

A turn is initiated by using the ailerons to roll the airplane into the desired angle.

This initial move results in two things: Adverse yaw and loss of lift.

Thinking in terms of vector components as above, lift is always perpendicular to the wings--because the wings produce the lift. When the aircraft rolls, so do the wings, thus the lift component is also angled the same as the bank. Gravity, however, continues to pull down at a (mostly) constant angle--straight downwards. Due to the loss of lift component, the airplane will begin to descend upon turning.

 

Thus slight elevator pressure is necessary to increase the lift component--this counteracts the tendency to sink. The turn occurs because of the tilting of the lift component, it gives power to the horizontal component--the airplane will turn. This causes a resultant load, plus the extra lift of the elevator, can cause a change in how gravity is experienced--in a 60 degree turn requiring higher elevator input, one's own weight will be experienced as twice or greater than it is standing on the ground. A 160 lbs pilot would feel like 320lbs or more in a steep turn.

And so one needs muscle, as well as money, to fly.

When you turn an airplane by twisting the yoke, the turn does not start immediately--this is due to adverse yaw.

When a turn is initiated, one aileron becomes elevated while the other drops. This changes the chord of the airfoil--a higher angle of attack and greater drag is experienced by the wing with the "down" aileron. This makes the airplane yaw in the opposite direction of the roll--adverse yaw.

Adverse yaw makes a turn uncoordinated. An uncoordinated turn is at least imprecise, and at most fatal.

To make the turn coordinated again, rudder is applied also in the direction of the turn--by using the turn coordinator to gauge when the aircraft is in a coordinated turn.




The little ball must be kept between the lines to keep the aircraft coordinated--if it goes to the left, hit the left pedal, and on the right, step the right pedal. It doesn't make much. There are times when this instrument is unreliable, however....

The 1930 Chevy Coupe needed a lot of work, even being only 5 years old. One had to make constant adjustments to critical engine components--tedious work involving shims and getting doused by rancid motor oil. Often the sons would do this work...the parents didn't know English so the only point in going into town was for business and occasionally for father to play concerts for the people of Mott or New Leipzig, even then a son was needed to translate for father. The sons, however, had places to go all the time; and so the Coupe was kept running in order most of the year.


The sons learned to drive as soon as they could see over the wheel and press the pedals. The oldest brothers learned first, they were all only a couple years in age difference. They all took an interest in dancing and young women around the same time--the coupe, sometimes taking hours to repair, was a better ride into Mott than walking. A car would give them an edge.

And so they would ride into Mott or New Leipzig every weekend night after dinner for a dance, a gathering of youth around the county. They put on white button shirts, ties, suspenders, wool trousers. They would arrive a few hours before sunset in summer and return around midnight--it was closer to midnight when they returned because of the Coupe. Otherwise it was two or three when they walked to six miles back from Mott.

In the backseat of the Coupe they laid Thomas' .22 Long Rifle, das Gewehr, more comfortable to speak their first language to family than the English they had to speak outside the family.

On the ten to fifteen minute drive down the washboard road to Mott they passed around das Gewehr and fired from the windows of the moving coupe at small game--rabbits, prairie dogs, pigeons grazing, fence posts, rocks, retired threshers, grass, dirt, hills.

After four miles they would encounter the Mongrel. Mongrel was a mixed-breed dog with a very bad disposition. He chased their horses on the way to Mott, he chased the car and tried to bite the tires. Snarling and barking all the way for a quarter mile. First on the way to Mott, and then again on the return late at night.

One summer evening on the ride to Mott, Mongrel came running up to the car, barking and biting at the car.

They tried to speed up, and so did Mongrel. Mongrel nipped at the tire, brother Tom saw, and flew into a furious rage "He could have popped the tire, will you just run him over already, Leonard?"

"He gets out of the way, " Leonard said factually--as if he had tried before when Thomas was too young to remember.

"Then..." Thomas reached down for das Gewehr, picking it up by barrel near the muzzle BANG.

The side of the window blew out, Leonard hit the brakes hard to see what happened. Mongrel ran away. Thomas had been shot.

They all turned slowly to see, Thomas yelled in pain--the bullet went straight through his bicep and out the other side and threw the window. My grandfather picked up the rifle, pulled the bolt to expel the casing and load a new round and fired once more from the window at Mongrel as he ran away. He missed.

Leonard hit the gas and raced into Mott for the doctor. The doctor was on his way home. He looked at the arm and gave them bandages to keep the wound covered, then told him to return on Monday for a check up.

The brothers drove Thomas back home, his arm swelling massively.

From that night on, the Mongrel stayed in the ditch to bark at the coupe with the brothers inside--and they never shot at him again.