Not satisfied with "private pilot" I labeled the next page "Commercial". I was going for it. Sweet memories.
Some of these logs are going to the trash in a systematic cleaning out of unnecessary things in my life. Those notebooks are the first to go. They are so poorly kept with many pages and even volumes not dated. Some of the entries are unreadable and all are more about looking at oil pipeline than about flying.
Those at the top of the pile are staying for a while however as there are many memories in those pages. Someone else can throw them out when I have flown the big one.
Log books have many reasons for being. In the case of Marine log books it provides a record of where you have been and where you intend to go. If the log survives a shipwreck it provides clues but on a practical side it aids in covering that route again. For me they now aid in jogging my memories for story telling.
Flying log books provide evidence that you have acquired the necessary experience to do a flying job or to press on to the next level of licensing. Very important to a young pilot on the way up. I'm afraid I became rather lax after about 14000 hours. Now they are only good for memories as I no longer need to provide that nebulous proof for anything. I don't need proof that if it can fly I can fly it, that is, if I can figure out how to get it started.
Trucking logs are a feeble attempt by the government to control truck driving which has never worked. I threw them out nearly as fast as I filled them out.
This is a small but necessary step in taking out the trash. Many small steps have been taken in the last few months and more will be taken in months to come.
I rode my bike day before yesterday to run a little errand (beer run) for SWMBO (she who must be obeyed) and it was hot. I did not think it was bad at all but one of my tires thought it was as it blew out on the way home. I made it to within a couple of hundred yards of the driveway when it blew. It sounded like I had been shot and that's when I found out how hot it was. Riding was cool walking was hotter than hell. Even with thick soled sandals it was like walking on hot coals.
Yesterday I went for a nose job and was once again reminded of what a candy ass I am. I am thankful for drugs. It was hot enough that I did not buy the frozen yogurt I wanted on the way home. It would have just instantly melted.
The bicycle is still in my shed with a flat. It's only 85 degrees F with 80% relative humidity at nine AM this morning but the thought of sweat running into this crater on my nose discourages me from trying to fix it. I need a new tire anyway and besides I have four other bikes ready to go.
I think today will be a day of contemplating my navel and praising the Lord of the Mighty AC. Ooooom