Dots Pt. 3 (To Infinity And Beyond!)

Holeeeee Sheeeeit, I done checked out!



The day that I figured would never come has actually came and went. Last Monday I had my final check ride as a Stupid Trainee in the North Area of Chicago Center. It took about 60 minutes, and my knuckles were whiter than Tony LaRussa's at a highway sobriety checkpoint. Everything went well however, and when Alex the Supe unplugged and walked away, I really had no idea what to expect. I was kind of hoping that balloons would drop down from the ceiling and Randy Babbitt would run into the area to congratulate me, or (bare minimum) give me a high-five. None of this happened, however. The area stayed fairly quiet, and I sat on position at the Harly sector for about an hour and a half. Congratulations were received from folks, and I bought pizza for everybody in the area ($85 for 5 pizzas? What's in this shit, gold?) and worked the rest of the night. It was almost as if I'd been doing the job for a few years already...just another night. It was pretty damn surreal.

I realized that while I'd only been at ZAU for a about 15 months, my "journey" to get to the CPC point has lasted almost exactly 6 years. Six fucking years. You know who else works for six years then gets a job? Doctors. It's crazy to think back to when I was more of a worthless layabout than I am now. Working for my dad, making a decent living but not totally happy with where I was in life. I had considered ATC before, but it seemed like a pipe dream. It would mean more schooling, and after DePaul, NIU, and the University of Route 47 (AKA Waubonsee Community College) I was in no hurry to go back. Somewhere along the way I apparently changed my mind. I wish there was a defining moment when I realized that things needed to change. You know, one of those David Carusso "pull my sunglasses off while The Who blares in the background" moments. But no, I honestly can't remember what did it. I'm just going to assume it happened on the shitter, because that's where I do most of my thinkin. Anyways, after jumping through some hoops I was finally accepted into the University of North Dakota, which was recommended to me by Jim Lipsett (who works in the TMU). I packed my shit, and off I went. Little did I realize that I was going to North Dakota on the 6th of January, and winter in Chicago (while rough) doesn't hold a fucking candle to winter in ND. It's like the 3rd rim of Satan's asshole up there from essentially mid December to late March. It was quite a rude awakening. It was 2004 when I left the toasty confines of good ole IL. Now, on the tail end of 2009 I have finally achieved my goal.

There were quite a few times when it seemed like it was never going to happen. Waiting for my job offer letter from the FAA (which only took about 2 years longer than it should have...your tax dollars at work), the 4 months of misery in Oklahoma Shitty...finally getting here and wondering and doubting that you are cut out for this job. All of those things sucked, but the last part was there worst. There were quite a few times during my first few months of training when I would come home and wonder what the fuck I was doing in this line of work. I would make mistakes that a monkey with Down's Syndrome wouldn't make. Self esteem was at an all-time low. Thankfully, I stuck with it. The hardest part is convincing yourself that you can do the job, even when in your mind everyone in the room with you is thinking that you can't. I have a tendency to be harder on myself than anybody else could possibly be, and I'm pretty damn abusive. Somewhere along that path it finally kicked in that "hey! Maybe...just maybe...I might have what it takes!". Then a day later I would get my dick kicked in again...but this time instead of going home and punching the cat and my wife (then fiancee), I was able to shrug it off and come back with a clear mind. If I could give any trainee a piece of advice, it would be: prepare yourself. You are going to fuck up. A LOT. Keep fighting through it. Some days are just gonna suck, but everybody in that room has gone through it too (I have it on good authority Mike Duffey used to cry in the women's bathroom when he was in training). As long as you learn from it, you are growing as a controller and becoming less of an Idiot Trainee.

Also, Y51 is Viroqua Municipal Airport. Suck it, Porzel.


Even though I was the one fighting through the training every day, I sure as shit couldn't have done it alone. Therefore, before they start playing the "get the fuck off the stage, nobody cares" Oscar music, I'm gonna try and thank everyone who helped me survive (and occasionally flourish) this past 6 years. First and foremost I owe my parents. Literally. I owe them thousands of dollars, and they ain't getting it back any time soon. So thanks for that. Also, thanks to my ND crew. I would have never survived in that frozen hell-hole unless I had some of the best friends around (except for Jared. Fuck that guy). Thanks to Gary Knapp for making a few calls so I could work at ZAU instead of some podunk tower in southern Missouri. Posthumous thanks to Tom Kublebeck for giving me my remote pilot job with WCG. It was an amazing help, and you are missed. Thanks to all the instructors at WCG (even Doc Collins), and to Jenna, Landon, and Matt Waid. Special thanks to all the poor bastards that had to train me (Dave Jordan, Tim Kiefer, Terry South, and Tony Bonic), and all of those that either filled in from time to time (John Klatt, Joe Rand, Shicky, Jim Baker, Swanny, Ramz) or trained me from a distance (Duffey, Porzel). Thanks to everyone else in the area. I love my job, and most of the people that I work with are the shit. Thanks to Jeff Richards for reminding me repeatedly not to get a DUI. Thanks to Chris Evans for putting up with (and granting) my millions of shift change requests just so I could have a normal-ish life for a bit longer. I know I still have a shit-ton to learn about the job, but you guys gave me the right start.

Finally, thanks to Bri for sticking with me this entire time. I really would have melted down if you weren't here. It's corny, but you really were my rock during these past few years. I owe you big time. But hey, I'll pay you back by supporting your ass financially while you learn to teach the "special folks". We can call it even.

If I forgot anybody, I'm either truly sorry or it was completely intentional. Your pick.



I'll leave you with a joke I just came up with:






Question: How many trainees does it take to screw in a light bulb?

Answer: F@*k you, I'm checked out.