Turned Around

PROLOGUE

Sunday morning my best laid plans for getting to the Learning Solutions conference in Orlando, Florida got turned around. News about flooding in Louisiana and Mississippi, my direct route, and word of more of the same on my alternate route through Arkansas encouraged me to play it safe. So I made it as far east as Austin, Texas and and turned around for home.

GIVING MYSELF THE GIFTS OF TIME AND FLIGHT

In Austin I decided to try for my alternate route through Arkansas. Increasingly dire warnings on the news and Facebook friends postings about heavy weather nixed that idea. I emailed the conference producer that I wouldn't be able to make it to present my session. I felt a kind of despair for a little while. What made the fear fade was hearing from a friend that I needed to ask God for guidance then decide then let go. So I did.

A hundred miles west of Abilene, Texas for no particular reason I pulled off Interstate 20 and walked around a bit. I had my BeBop drone with me. I wanted to take it aloft but was cautious as it was windy. In the end I let it fly. And then I was rewarded by this photo.

I decided then to go off the Interstate. I got to visit several very small Texas towns. I experienced life through others' lenses. I flew my drone under a bridge over the Pecos River. I got to look down into what I think was a mine entrance. I fumbled a bit trying to fly over and around a moving train. I have to work on being steady at the controls though. But I did get to peer down into some of rail cars passing below.

EPILOGUE

A few days before Christmas 1977 I decided to take a couple weeks leave from my posting at the US Navy's training command at Corry Station, Florida. Early one Saturday morning I packed my sea bag into the trunk of my lemon yellow Toyota Celica and headed west on Interstate 10. My goal was spending the holiday with my family in Colton, California some 2200 miles distant. I recall it was quite foggy as I sped along. Around Mobile, Alabama it started to rain. Hard. It continued to rain well into Louisiana. The gas stations I stopped at to refuel were inundated by water. In Louisiana there's this long stretch of Interstate 10 that's elevated. I have a strong memory of my Celica and me hydroplaning over the flooded bayous. By the time I got to Beaumont, Texas the clouds and rain had mostly given way to clear blue sky. Topping off at a Texaco station I asked the attendant how long to El Paso. His reply remains vidid in my memory: "Worry about that tomorrow."

So here I am, my 60 year old self, enjoying another tomorrow. I have time.

 

5 a.m.

INTRO

It's 5 a.m. on a Saturday. I'm on a path that I'm not sure where it goes.

FADED PHOTOGRAPHS OF VIVID MEMORIES THAT MAY NOT HAVE HAPPENED, YET

I'm on my way to #LSCon, the Learning Solutions Conference, produced by the eLearning Guild. But that's not what this post is about. I'm on my way to Orlando, Florida where the conference is held. To get there I have to travel along a path from my distant past.

The end of 1977 found me at Corry Station learning the finer points of being a technical sailor in the US Navy. Corry Station, in ancient times, was a naval air station. I have a vivid memory walking across the old runway apron and tripping over an old aircraft tie-down cleat. It was set, recessed, into the concrete, a small loop of rusted iron. At least that's how I remember it. I think I took a photo of it. If I did I lost it. It isn't in my Flickr, one of the apps I use to record photos.

At this very moment I'm in El Paso readying myself for today's travel. I'm connected to the Internet via a 3G Verizon mobile device. In its day it was fast. Today it's like molasses. A few minutes ago I was in Flickr looking for old photos. After about two years of pictures the screen turned gray. The photos are there, on a server somewhere, but not here in front of me to verify my memory.

I hope to travel 600 miles today just like I did yesterday. Except that yesterday I barely made it 400 miles. I kept stopping, for reasons of health and curiosity, to pass some time among memories. I flew my BeBop drone to give me a perspective I didn't have back then. If you follow me on social media expect lots of fisheye views of the ground from 30 metres up the next few days.

OUTRO

In 1977 parts of Interstate 10 hadn't been completed. Today, I hope to find a detour I took around one such unfinished section. Only I'm not 100% sure where it was. One end was at Fort Stockton, Texas. I recall a cattle watering tank and an ancient Ford Aeromotor (a windmill). If I find them, expect a flyover. If I can't find it maybe I'll do a sketch of the vivid memory of something I think I saw 39 years ago for a moment.

 

 

Hey Aviator

PROLOGUE

I'm an aviator. Ok, not really. But I do wear glasses and own a drone quadcopter. The point is I drive something that flies.

HOW LOW CAN YOU GO?

For as long as I can remember I've wanted to _______. But I have a short attention span. It doesn't help I'm attracted to shiny objects. So along the way of my life I've half started a lot of things. But now that I'm an OldPa (a term I remember from an old Lionel Barrymore as grandfather movie) I have a little more disposable income.

So the other day I used some to buy a Parrot Bebop 2 drone. I needed one to respond to an RFP (Request For Proposal). Now that I've responded I have a cool red toy to play with.

Speaking of play, I like to have fun while learning. One way I have tons-o-fun learning is by participating in EdCamps. In a nutshell they're gatherings of teachers where everyone is a genius. I've lost count of how many I've participated in. Anyway, at one of them I noticed how learning can be influenced by environment. I was in a first grade classroom. Not only was everything small, like models I glued together as a boy, most things in the room were scaled down, maybe 3:1. I had expected that.

What I hadn't expected was how low things on the wall were. I'm 6 feet and 5 inches tall. I had to look down at learning aids placed on the walls. Something a six year old looked straight into I had to peer down at. This has AHA! moment kick-started my thinking on learning environments.

THE TOPS OF THINGS

When I spun up the props on my Bebop and got it about three metres in the air I saw a whole new world. Tall as I am I mostly look down at things. Of course I look up at stuff too. But being a creature of habit I tend to not really notice the usual stuff around me. Taking a look at my surroundings from higher up than usual really opened my eyes. Cliche though it may be to say I saw a whole new world it's true.

RETRACING OLD STEPS

Cactus tops, tree tops, house tops, my bald head are all things the drone and me have captured. I don't expect the novelty to wear off for a while.

In 1977 I entered active duty with the US Navy. I did a lot of traveling over the next six years. One of my more memorable trips was driving my then new Toyota Celica from Corry Station near Pensacola, Florida to my boyhood home in California. The 2209 mile trip took me around 44 hours. I remember bits and pieces of sights along the way. What I remember most though was how big and diverse the southern United States is.

In seven days I start driving from my home in Arizona to a conference in Orlando, Florida. I'll be in my new Honda CR-V. I expect to make a lot of stops along the way. I'm looking forward at what the drone's view reveals.

EPILOGUE

What the drone really does is expand my view just a little bit. My eyes are almost 40 years older than they were in '77. It occurred to me just now how Google Earth lets me look down. The drone makes it more personal, so much more up close. I think that's what an aviator might feel flying through the air. I'm not a passenger peering out a window at the world going by. I'm choosing the path and experience what's coming up.