PILOT HUSBAND IS ADDICTED TO THE JODI ARIAS MURDER TRIAL

A few years ago, PilotHusband and I were watching a television show about "Black Widow" killers... women who murdered their husbands.  One woman killed three husbands in a row, poisoning them with Arsenic.  The narrator went on to describe how arsenic leaves a slight almond aftertaste when ingested.  So what did AngryPilotWife do?  I went to Costco and purchased a huge bottle of Almond Extract.  For months to follow, I added it to EVERYTHING that PilotHusband ate or drank.  I mixed it in the mashed potatoes, I added it to his morning coffee, I'd even add a few drops to his beer when he wasn't looking.  What fun!  PilotHusband became very nervous, and for a time, was on his best behavior.

As I write this, PilotHusband is glued to the TV, forgoing his beloved MilitaryChannel to watch the minute by minute coverage of the Jodi Arias Murder Trial.  Hmmm... that gives me a few ideas.  Maybe I'll hack into his email, or show up unexpectedly on his overnights... over and over and over again.  Perhaps I'll suggest we rent a nondescript white car and take a road trip.  I could suggest we take racy pictures of each other.  I just might start photographing him while he's in the shower.  This is gonna' be AWESOME!

I've got to go.  I want to remove the license plate off my truck before they recess for lunch!

THE ULTIMATE PILOT

I am taking a break from snarky mockery of  my PilotHusband to salute, and pay homage to, the ULTIMATE pilot.  You Piedmont "Silver Eagles" and USAir folks know the legend, the man, the UberPilot.... Captain Jim Brown.  He was the icon, the mold, the role model, the superhero of professional aviation.

The stories about him are legendary.  They have been told and re-told countless times, at hotel bars on long overnights, crew rooms during hot reserve duty, and cockpits during departure delays.  Each time a story was repeated, no doubt, it became more fantastical, more mythical, more unbelievable... or maybe not.  Perhaps the stories I heard were as accurately told as the morning after the events unfolded.  Maybe, just maybe, Captain Jim Brown was the real deal.  If that's the case, we must all bow down and worship him, as the one true God of Aviation.

I've seen photos of the man.  He sure looked like the perfect Air Line Captain; pot-bellied, unkempt, graying, smiling, and a yellowed uniform shirt with mustard stains on his necktie... and oddly magnetic.

The stories... oh, where to begin?!  There was the one about him playing poker while overnighting in the Bahamas.  Out of cash, but with a pretty good hand, he threw the keys to the Boeing into the pot.  Unfortunately, someone at the table had a better hand.  So next he did the only reasonable thing.  He called operations and told them he needed $10,000 wired to him immediately if they ever wanted their airplane (or their crew) back.  In this day and age, that might be called piracy, but back in the day, it was just Captain Jim Brown having a good time.

Then there was the one about the crew hotel in London.  The rooms were never ready when they arrived, forcing an exhausted crew to mill about the lobby for hours, waiting to check in.  Capt. Brown fixed that situation.  When told the rooms were not ready (again), he stripped down to his stained undershirt, black socks, and jockey shorts and laid down on the sete in the middle of the lobby to take a nap.  After a few minutes of his snoring and farting (simultaneously), he was awoken by the hotel staff with the news that all the crew rooms were ready.  And they never had that problem again.  In this day and age, that might be called indecent exposure, but back in the day, it was just Capt. Jim Brown taking care of business.

My favorite story was about his paycheck.  Piedmont Airlines paid Pilots and Flight Attendants twice a month.  The check on the 30th was small, covering just half a month of guarantee pay.  But the check on the 15th was much larger, covering the other half of guarantee, hours flown above that, per diem, night differential, and international pay.  Somehow, Capt. Brown convinced his wife that his ONLY compensation was the small paycheck at the end of each month.  Then one day, she discovered the check stub from the 15th paycheck.  She was furious!  But unphased, and slicker than "Cool Hand Luke", he looked at his wife and explained that the 15th paycheck was used to buy fuel for the aircraft, pay the Flight Attendants, pay for the crew's hotel rooms, and the caterers that stocked the plane.  After all that, there was nothing left of that paycheck.  In this day and age, that might be called withholding marital assets, but back in the day, it was just Captain Jim Brown making sure his family didn't live above their means.

I think Heaven looks like the dive bar at the old Airways Hotel.  When I get there, I hope to be greeted by Captain Jim Brown, telling stories, holding court, and ready to share a pitcher of beer and a plate of hot wings. 

 

YOU KNOW YOU'RE MARRIED TO A PILOT WHEN...

Being married to an Air Line Pilot is unlike committing yourself (and I use that term specifically) to any other subspecies of Man.  For you Newlyweds out there; fasten your seat belts.  There's turbulence ahead.  For you Senior Wives, sit back, pour yourself another glass of wine, and find solace in the fact that you are not alone.

You know you're married to an Air Line Pilot when.....

the mother of your child's classmate invites you to her church's "Divorce Care" meeting, having noticed the absence of a husband at every field trip, recital, award ceremony, field day, and class party.  This forces you to politely explain that you are not, in fact, divorced.  You're just married to a Pilot.

your six year old can identify tank silhouettes, Hitler's Henchmen, every WWII aircraft, and knows all the words to "The Halls of Montezuma" due to his constant exposure to The Military Channel.

you check the browser history on your computer and the first two sites are always YouPorn and AirLinePilotCentral; in that order.

you tell your PilotHusband about something that needs repair around the house he tells you to "call Maintenance".

within 5 minutes of your PilotHusband returning from a 4 day trip, (to a pristine, polished, and scrubbed home) you find a pile of dirty socks, undershirts, and man panties in the middle of your kitchen floor.

after he returns home from a red-eye flight, you are not at all phased by the sight of a pot-bellied man, clad in his underpants and black socks, sprawled out on the sofa, drinking beer, and watching Band of Brothers, at 9:00 in the morning.

you hear about the unfortunate demise of a fellow Pilot, and your first question is, "Was he senior to you?".  (Don't hate the messenger... we've all done it.  And if you haven't; you will)

your PilotHusband has more conversations with you on the phone while on overnights, than he does face-to-face when he is at home.

you don't have to worry about stocking up on cranberry juice, Coca-Cola, 7-Up, or Tonic Water, because real Pilots drink their liquor straight.

he never surprises you with what he's wearing because you are the one who purchased his clothes, laundered them, and hung them in his closet.  Otherwise, he'd still be wearing the same underpants and cargo shorts with the HUGE holes in the crotch that allowed his "dangly bits" to hang out.  There's a reason the UPS delivery guy doesn't ring the doorbell anymore!

So, celebrate your strength and independence, fellow PilotWives!  And try to hide your smile when your PilotHusband asks your child, "Who's the Boss of this house?" and he immediately replies, "Mommy is".


 

THE VALENTINE'S DAY THAT HELL FROZE OVER

Believe it or not, after 22 years of total failure, PilotHusband remembered Valentine's Day.  PilotHusband planned in advance.  PilotHusband ordered a lovely gift to be delivered the day before the holiday. Yes, February 13, 2013 is the day Hell froze over.  But we are talking about my PilotHusband.... so you know that instead of finally getting it right, it all went horribly wrong.  Maybe some men just aren't cut out for Valentine's Day, no matter how well intentioned they may be.  I call it, Charlie Brown Syndrome.

Evidently, PilotHusband called ProFlowers and ordered 2 dozen roses to be delivered on Wednesday, as he was leaving on V Day to go to work.  This was going to be the year that he actually came through on Valentine's Day.  This was going to be the year that AngryPilotWife wouldn't be able to blog about what a tool he is.  But alas, here we are... again.

When PilotHusband checked his e-mail, late that morning, he had a notification from FedEx that his order had been delivered at 10:30.  He went to the front door to check..... no package.  He called FedEx tracking, and was told to check the garage, back door and "any bushes around the house".  This displeased PilotHusband.  However in an attempt to, finally, not be that guy, he did as he was told.  Still no flowers.

Meanwhile, AngryPilotWife called home from work and offered to leave early and take her PilotHusband to lunch.  He was in a pissy mood, and flatly refused.  This displeased APW.

I left work just in time to pick up our son from the bus stop and returned home to find PilotHusband on the phone screaming "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?".  (Unless you've been on Entertainment Tonight or the Sunday morning political talk shows, please don't ask that question.  It just makes you look pompous, delusional, and silly).

After 6 hours of distracted, bad-attitude, pissy behavior, having royally annoyed both his wife and child, PilotHusband explained that he had ordered flowers that were supposed to have been delivered, but were not here.  He had already been in contact with ProFlowers (who were kind, gracious, and helpful) and they would be re-sending the order on Friday.  I assured PilotHusband that all was good.  I was thrilled with his attempt, and understood this was not his fault.  That, however did not dissuade PilotHusband from calling FedEx back... again and again and again.  He called the tracking department, he called the distribution centers (in the surrounding 4 state area).  He yelled, screamed, and threatened every minimum wage cubical dweller with whom he spoke.  The last thing I overheard was "This is why I only drink with UPS Pilots!". 

Meanwhile, the flowers HAD been delivered.... to our next door neighbor's house.  Our neighbor's wife discovered them at her side door, and opened the box.  She was THRILLED that apparently her husband sent her 2 dozen multi-colored long stemmed roses... until she read the card and realized they were meant for APW.  At 6:30, her husband rang our doorbell, with the box of flowers in hand.  All was (finally) good in the Universe.

There's just a bit of fallout from this whole debacle.  Poor NextDoorNeighborHusband had to go out and spend a ridiculous amount of money for 2 dozen roses on Valentine's Day so that his wife wouldn't be disappointed.  Most of Wednesday was ruined by PilotHusband's drama and then he left the next morning.  And I'm pretty sure FedEx has taken out a restraining order again PilotHusband (I guess they shouldn't have rejected his application back in 1997).

Last time I checked, ProFlowers is still supposed to send out a duplicate order today because PilotHusband never let FedEx or ProFlowers know that we finally found the order.  You know how much Pilots love free shit!

(PS  ProFlowers is an AWESOME company.  The product that arrived was beautiful, and they were very tolerant and kind with PilotHusband during his multiple meltdowns.  APW highly recommends them!)

I hope everyone had a great Valentine's Day!  Just remember, its the other 364 days of the year that count much more.
 

VALENTINES FOR PILOTHUSBANDS

(Thank you, Morgan V. for the inspiration.  You rock!)

When deciding what to get your PilotHusband for Valentine's Day, you have to take a moment to examine the unique characteristics of the Sky God.  What do they love?  What do they hate?  As a rule, Pilots love; (in no particular order) themselves, war movies, beer, sex, liquor, watches, boats, and anything that reminds them of when they were still young and cool.   Pilots hate; (in no particular order) dressing up in anything that isn't stained or torn on a day off, the theater, concerts, anything that costs them money, anything that requires getting off the sofa, any anything that fails to acknowledge their supremacy as a species.  Given all that, here are a few gift ideas.

Embroidered Towels  No, not the kind with his initials that color coordinate with your bathroom decor.  That would be emasculating... and gay.  I'm talking about big plush towels that match the accent color of the upholstery on his boat, stitched with the name of his boat and "Capt. (insert his name here)" on one towel, and the boat name and "First Mate" on the other towel.  While you may be tempted, do not put your name on the other towel.  First of all, if your PilotHusband is on the boat with another PilotBuddy, it would be embarrassing to make him dry off with "Shirley" emblazoned on his towel.  Secondly, if your PilotHusband is out on the boat with someone other than his wife, or a buddy, we don't want it to appear as if we are marking our territory.  We are not German Shepherds, ladies.

HBO's Band of Brothers DVD boxed set  The men of Easy Company were true American heroes.  There are planes, tanks, guns, explosions, and Nazis.  If he already has that one, create your own WWII movie collection for him.  Be sure to include all of the classics; A Bridge Too Far, Twelve O'Clock High, Battle of the Bulge (no ladies, that is not a workout video), The High and the Mighty, Where Eagles Dare, Kelly's Heroes, The Longest Day, and Patton. Your husband will spend hours on end, laying on the couch, in guy movie bliss (oh, wait!  He does that already.).

Beer  I'm not talking about the beer of the month club, or some silly home brewing kit.  This one requires some planning and effort on your part.  If your husband flies domestically, find a specialty shop like Total Wine, Wine Maestro, or the Pipe and Pint.  Select microbrew beer from each city that he travels to.  Tie a decorative tag to each bottle, naming its city of origin, and place the bottles in a large gift basket.  If your husband flies international routes, do the same thing with beer from the countries he flies to.  Just ignore the lecture about how he could have bought it cheaper from duty-free.

Liquor  Because they are cheap, pilots hold onto this belief of "quantity over quality".   They love the finer things in life, but have a hard time prying open their wallets to pay for it.  They would rather buy a half gallon of Johnnie Walker Red than a fifth of Johnnie Walker Blue Label.  So, this Valentine's Day, buy them the top shelf liquor.  Get them Remy Martin, JW Blue, and the most expensive bottle of anything.  Do not be disappointed when they don't drink it.  They are saving it for when a PilotBuddy shows up and they pull it out of the bar as if it is always there, as part of the bread, milk, and eggs, weekly grocery list.

Sex  This is a no-brainer.  Pilots like sex.  But give them what they really want-- not what you think they want.  Drop the kids off at Grandma's house and then forget the lacy, frilly, Victoria's Secret crap.  Go to Adam & Eve and buy the naughty catholic school girl outfit, the sexy french maid outfit, or the leather clad dominatrix attire.  Forget the champagne and chocolate covered strawberries.  Cook him a medium rare steak and get your freak on.  Men are pretty basic; pilots, even more so.  Remember, Harlequin Romance novels are written for women, by women.  Porn is made for men, by men.  Don't give him romance... give him porn.

Led Zeppelin / the boxed set  I don't care if your PilotHusband is 32 or 62.  Chances are, at some point in is life, he listened to alot of Led Zep, and he thought he was cool while he was doing it.  This is a male right of passage.  Give him his coolness and youth back.  Let him jam out to Traveling Riverside Blues, or Stairway to Heaven.  Just keep those Bose noise-cancellation headsets handy for your own sanity and let your man rock on!

As for me, after 22 years of Valentine's Day disappointments, I don't get PilotHusband a gift.  I consider resisting the urge to beat him with his own golf clubs while he sleeps, gift enough.

I've said it before... don't freak out over Valentine's Day.  The other 364 days of the year are much more important.  Of course if your PilotHusband pisses you off on those days too...... well, just keep his 9 iron handy.

V-DAY MINUS 6

Oh.  It must be about a week before Valentine's Day.  PilotHusband has already started his drama.  Every time we see a 1-800-FLOWERS commercial, my Uber-conservative husband bemoans the plight of Ecuadorian rose pickers and spouts on about how the US consumption of long-stemmed red roses fuels "the oppression of third world migrant farm workers".  The same man who makes Rush Limbaugh look liberal the other 51 weeks out of the year, spends this week criticizing US price point markets for floral products versus the average wage of floral, seasonal, migratory, farm workers.  Thanks for the input, Che Guevara.

Then we saw a commercial for Sherry's Berries... yummy chocolate-covered strawberries.  Pull up a chair, boys and girls, and enjoy the lecture about how industrial agribusiness is killing the family farmer.  PilotHusband actually pulled out our old VCR from a closet and hooked it up to the television so he could show me a tape of a FarmAid concert, circa 1985.  Wow.  John Mellencamp used to be pretty hot.

Oh, then we had to endure the Hallmark Greeting Card commercials.  My PilotHusband, who shops for vehicles based on the HIGHEST average highway mileage per gallon (just to piss off all the tree huggers out there), has begun complaining about the excessive use of paper in greeting cards, and the collateral death of the poor innocent tree. 

After 22 years, I know what comes next.  Not since McCarthy, has there been a bigger forum for accusing people of communism.  If you are a singer of love songs; BEWARE.  Michael Buble, Blake Shelton, Josh Groban, Barry White, and Lionel Ritchie.... you are formally put on notice!  Your insipid, sappy, seemingly heartfelt ditties will NOT be tolerated.  You create unreal expectations and should be summarily shot (while charging your family for the bullet).

Sooooo.... this year, for Valentine's Day, I think I'll ask for an NRA membership, a subscription to "Rush 24/7", and maybe that Ted Nugent Hunting Newsletter.  I an DEFINITELY not asking for flowers, or chocolate-covered strawberries, or a card!

CALL TO ACTION!

Okay.  This is not a blog post.  This is a call to action!  If you follow me on Facebook, you know I have declared that I am training for the Rugged Maniac 5K in Ashboro, NC.  The event is April 20th.  It will involve running 3.1 miles through mud, over cargo nets, through flooded tubes, under barbed wire, and over walls.  However, at the end, you get a free tee shirt, and a beer!  There's great live music, alcohol, and mud.  What more could you ask for?

So who wants to join team AngryPilotWife?  I will provide the team tee shirts.  If there is enough interest, I will try to provide transport from CLT to the event.  Please email me at MBRenfest@gmail.com if you would like to participate.  Registration is $73 before February 22nd, however start times are staggered, so we need to coordinate our registration to get the same start time.  So, who wants to get muddy and drink beer?