Now for a light hearted look at aviaition with “Strange Planes From Around the World”.
Some of these aircraft are real, and some of them are just, well, make believe. I liked them, I think you will too!
Humour
While trolling around the usual aviation sites that I visit for aviation news, I came across this interesting piece which I haved called “Just How Old is Your Aircraft?”
Next time you are flying, have a look for these tell-tale signs!
Plane has three engines? It’s likely to be an older aircraft model. Picture: Thinkstock Source: ThinkStock
Have you ever wondered just how many years the plane you’re flying in has clocked up in the skies?
The seat covers have worn thin, the arm rest has now taken on a brownish tinge and you’re pretty sure every spring in the seat is leaving a permanent indent in your backside. Airfare Watchdog reveals the skies are full of old aircraft including Boeing 717s and early versions of the 757, 767 and 737. In fact before the 757 production was retired you could have been flying on a plane that was 26 years old. However, these older aircraft are more likely to be flying in Africa, South America or in other Third World countries, but not always!
Of course, it might be difficult to see the registration number from the gate unless the aircraft is parked at an angle so the tail number is visible, or unless you’re boarding or deplaning using stairs. You can also ask a gate agent or the pilots for the registration number, although there have been reports of ill-defined security concerns when passengers request this information. Mind you, if you are at the gate and about to board the aircraft, you have left your investigation far too late!
The age of a plane ndoes not mean that it is safe. The Dreamliner 787 which Boeing stated to be the most technological advanced and state of the art plane in the skies was grounded due to ongoing safety concerns last year.
The average age of QANTAS aircraft is 7.9 years, while the Delta Airlines fleet averages 16.9 years.
So how can you tell your aircraft’s age?
One way to work it out is to take note of the plane’s registration number, also known as the N-number on US planes or the tail number, and look it up at Aircraft Data or Airliners.net
However, Airfare Watchdog has put together some more basic signs that your aircraft could be due for retirement:
• The flight attendant call button symbol is wearing a skirt or is labelled stewardess.
The symbol in a skirt indicates the plane may not be a spring chicken. Picture: Tnarik Source: Flickr
• You’ll find a no-smoking sign above the seats instead of a ‘turn off electronics’ symbol.
No smoking sign. Source: ThinkStock
• There’s still an ashtray on your seat’s arm rest and in the bathrooms.
If there’s an ashtray in the lavatory, it’s a sign of age. Picture: Brownpau Source: Flickr
• There’s a stairway to the outside in the tail of the plane.
There’s a stairway in there! Picture: Wbaiv Source: Flickr
N505AA pictured above is an Americans Airline McDonnell-Douglas MD-82 (cn49799) which was delivered to American Airlines 9/11/1989. In 2014, this aircraft is 25 years old. Find a full history of this aircraft here.
• There are three engines instead of two or four (pictured above).
• Your entertainment screens drop from the ceiling.
Entertainment screens above. Picture: Mroach Source: Flickr
Does this mean that your older aircraft is not safe? Well, yes and no. The aircraft may be well maintained and meticulously serviced and hold a current Certificate of Airworthiness, BUT, the older the aircraft, the more flight cycles it has done, and thus it is susceptible to metal fatigue, component failure especially if it has been involved in incidents, requiring repairs to pressure bulkheads, doors, luggage doors, flight surfaces and to the fuselage.
When booking a flight, research your airline, look at the aircraft it uses, and it’s history of accidents and incidents. As a rule of thumb, if the airline your thinking of flying with uses Soviet built aircraft, find another!
Source: http://www.news.com.au
I learnt this nonsense rhyme when I was in primary school, and for no known reason it came back into memory recently. I’d like to share it with you:
Ladles and Jellyspoons,
I come before you, to stand behind you,
To tell you something I know nothing about.
Next Thursday, which is Good Friday,
There will be a mothers’ meeting for fathers only.
Wear your best clothes, if you haven’t any,
And if you can come, please stay at home,
Admission is free, pay at the door,
Take a seat and sit on the floor.
It makes no difference where you sit,
The man in the gallery is certain to spit.
I thank you for your unkind attention,
and now present the next act:
The Four Corners of the Round Table.
Early one morning in the middle of the night
two dead boys got up for a fight.
Back to back they faced each other,
drew their swords and shot each other.
A deaf policeman heard the noise
and came and shot the two dead boys.
If you don’t believe this lie that’s true,
ask the blind man; he saw it too!
If you liked the post below called “God Returns to New Zealand” about Mr Frosty and the BMX Kid, you are going to love this short film too!
This is the winning short film created and directed by Andres Borghi, who also stars in the film.
There has been some discussion about Andres being from Argentina, but in my opinion he has captured the real essence of 100% Pure New Zealand in this feature.
What do you think?
The light turned yellow, just in front of him. He did the right thing, stopping at the stop line, even though he could have beaten the red light by continuing through the intersection.
The woman tailgating was furious and honked her horn, screaming in frustration, as she missed her chance to get through the intersection, dropping her mobile phone and her makeup.
As she was still in mid-rant, she heard a tap on her window and looked up into the face of a very serious police officer. The officer ordered her to exit her car with her hands up.
He took her to the police station where she was searched, fingerprinted, photographed, and placed in a holding cell.
After a couple of hours, a policeman approached the cell and opened the door. She was escorted back to the booking desk where the arresting officer was waiting with her personal effects.
He said, ”I’m very sorry for arresting you. But you see, I pulled up behind your car while you were blowing your horn, giving the guy in front of you the finger, and swearing at him. I noticed the ‘What Would Jesus Do’ bumper sticker, the ‘Choose Life’ number plate holder, the ‘Follow Me to Sunday-School’ bumper sticker, and the chrome-plated Christian fish emblem on the boot lid, so naturally I assumed you had stolen the car.”
But there is still the matter of the mobile phone and the make-up!
Shultz! Shultz! Schnelle General Abbott ist kommen!
However, what can you expect from the The Daily Telegraph when most of their high-profile journalists are politically conservative.
A Roy Morgan credibility survey found that 40 per cent of journalists polled viewed News Limited newspapers as Australia’s most partisan media outlet, ahead of the ABC on 25 per cent.
At the Australian Federal Election in 2010, the Telegraph endorsed the Liberal-National Party Coalition and Tony Abbott.
Need I say more!
Source: The Daily Telegraph (Sydney) 8/08/2013
Going on from my last post about workplace smoking and associated productivity losses, this post examines the cost of the more innocuous workplace indulgence, the consumption of coffee and its impact on workplace productivity losses.
Consider the following:
- The worker annnounces coffee run, gets orders and takes money – 10 min
- The worker drives to the coffee shop/outlet – 10 min
- The worker waits to place the order – 5 min
- The worker waits for the coffee to be made – 20 min
- The worker drives back to workplace – 10 min
- The worker distributes the coffee, calculates and gives change – 10 min
- The worker drinks in own coffee – 10 min
- Workers drink their own coffee – 10x 10min
And if this is done twice a day.
The cost to the employer for this little exercise? $45,500 per annum.
I found this piece rather amusing, and somewhat prophetic. I trust you will too.
The place: Parliament House, Canberra
The Time: The Present
The Inhabitants: Soon to be History
Queen Julia struts into her office, blood dripping from her battle axe. Within, she is met by her aide-de-camp, diminutive Lord Tyrian Lannister.
Julia: Moving forward …
Tyrian: Tell me you did not dispatch all of the rebels.
Julia: Would you have your queen consort with liars?
Tyrian: I wasn’t aware there were other choices. And among these were some of your best and brightest. Lord Albo alone —
Julia: Oh of course I’ve kept Lord Albo. He emits the best of zingers.
Tyrian: And Lord Carr?
Lord Carr steps from behind the Queen’s throne.
Lord Carr: I was grossly misrepresented.
Tyrian: And the Lad Butler?
Sitting beside Queen Julia the lad Butler shakes his head, quivering.
The Lad Butler: I love my queen with all of my heart. I cannot wait to see her win reelection.
Out of sight of the Queen, the Lad Butler mouths PLEASE. KILL ME.
Julia: See? All one happy family.
Tyrian: Milady, your people loathe you, and the court still comes for your head.
Julia: Who? Who dares come for my head?
The clang of steel on stone as a dagger slips from Lord Carr’s pocket.
Lord Carr: So that’s where that got to! Sorry, go on.
Julia: In point of fact I have put down two rebellions already.
Tyrian: Milady, what transpired last week was less a rebellion than a mass-immolation.
Julia: Did I not stand against enemy forces? Did I not prevail, unopposed?
Tyrian: Yes, because the Lord Rudd did not run against you. But even now, he stands alive outside your gates, doing an interview for the ABC.
Lord Carr: Indeed, milady, he has given me this note for you: ‘Sorry about the trouble last week. No rebellions to come, promise. I’m sure the polls are wrong, I can’t imagine you not winning the next election. KRudd 2016.’
Julia: See?
Tyrian: The point is not that Lord Rudd might come for you. The point is, you’ve won nothing. The people despise you.
Julia: The same people who condemned Lord Rudd for backing down on the ETS, and then opposed my carbon pricing? The ones who call me fiscally irresponsible, but are more than happy to take the money I’ve offered for education, mental health, disability and our endless natural disasters? Or the ones who claim my government is an embarrassment, and ignore the jobs and benefits they’ve kept throughout the GFC? Are those the people whose opinions you would have me trust?
Enter the Ranger Windsor, bruised and battered, his black jacket torn.
Julia: My Lord Windsor, what news?
Windsor: I come from the Wall, milady. Whilst you fight amongst yourselves, forces gather in the North, mighty forces, led by the White Walker.
Julia: The White Walker?
Windsor: Aye, a pale, stiff-walking fellow with his eyes ever on your throne. He surrounds himself with the fiercest of warriors — Maester Pyne, whose very presence overwhelms his enemies with annoyance; Lord Robb, Master of Comments No One Can Understand; and Lady Bishop, the Woman of Strange Gazes.
Julia: How could the Australian people ever elect the likes of them?
Tyrian: Trust me, they’re looking better and better.
The ring of steel on stone again. All turn to see Lord Carr, directly behind the Queen, hands coming around her neck, his dagger having slipped out again. He picks it up.
Lord Carr: My kingdom for breeches with proper pockets!
Julia: Lord Windsor, we have no time for fear. We are getting on with the business of government.
Windsor: Rushing a new communications plan through the Parliament without allowing time for debate or compromise — is that the business of which you speak? Or creating a mining tax that yields no revenue? Or blowing a dog whistle against foreign workers when much of our population comes from abroad?
Julia: Mind your tongue, Windsor, lest you find yourself without protection!
Windsor: Milady, at this rate it is from your protection that I shall need protection.
Windsor leaves.
Julia: Clear thinking, nothing to tie them down — independents are such bastards.
Tyrian: Indeed.
Julia: Now, enough with dire warnings.
And enough of this insistence that my policy decisions should make sense to the rabble, Lord Tyrian. Were you not there when I appointed Lord Slippery to the most honourable office in the land? Were you not present when I announced an election eight months from now and believed no one would see that we were going to spend the whole time campaigning? Were you not there when I traveled to Western Sydney to be with my people and then did only carefully controlled media events? I do not need to make sense. I am Queen! Now, send me my Guild of Faceless Men.
Tyrian: Milady, they appear to have vanished.
Metal on steel. All look to Lord Carr, whose knife has somehow gotten stuck in the throne, just missing the Queen. He smiles and shakes his head, embarrassed.
Lord Carr: So clumsy today!
Tyrian: Egads, what does it take to stage a proper coup around here? Someone, get me back to Westeros!
The Lad Butler: [whispers] Take us all with you. PLEASE.
Source: Jim McDermott March 27, 2013
- You’ve been slapped in public by a beautiful woman.
- You’ve raced an expensive European sports car.
- You’ve been in grave danger and made it out alive.
- You’ve used your “power” as a man to help others for no other reason than you can and it was the right thing to do.
- You’ve defended someone who couldn’t defend themselves.
- Your wife swooned as she looked you in the eyes and told you how much she respects and admires you.
- You’ve felt the “drape” of a fine handmade suit.
- You’ve smoked a rich Cuban cigar.
- You’ve had a professional shoe shine.
- You’ve known the loyalty and companionship of a good dog.
- You’ve been a dad (not just fathered a child).
- You stayed faithful to one good woman your entire life.
Oh yes, and:
- You’ve worn a kilt without worrying about what people think!
Source: Rick Johnson
I noted this on the blog of my good friend Andrew Doohan at http:www.doohan.id.au
I couldn’t stop laughing!
I hope he doesn’t mind me replicating it here.
Conclave Tip: Black smoke: No Pope. White smoke: Pope. Gray smoke: The College of Cardinals can’t figure out how to use the @#$%&%* stove.
Source: James Martin SJ; Andrew Doohan.
Words, By George! 