Battle Creek and Russell Crowe

Today i went to Battle Creek, Michigan and visited my friend and second Private pilot Jared Kresge. He lived an hour north of Battle Creek, so the town made a good middle meeting place for us both. We sat for lunch and discussion at Bob Evans and caught up the events of our time apart. Since he isn't really a phone or writing person, I had to give him a briefing on everything. Jared is a builder, and he showed me the scar on his left index finger where he had accidentally run a band saw through it. By God's mercy, 1/4 of his bone was still intact, and his flexor (anatomy correct??) muscle and main blood vessel were spared. So he got to keep his finger and use it too.
A really cool thing happened to us. The waitress came by on her water round and told us that the guy sitting at the table across from us had paid our ticket. He was gone when she told us that, but we both were surprised because that's like the last thing you expect to happen at a restaurant. Another thing I don't expect myself to do is to mind the people around me, so Jared and I never even noticed the guy, what he looked like and such. My guess is that he saw us praying or overheard us talking about God because he told our waitress to say to us, "God bless you." In all, Jared's and my time was short and sweet. I got to tell him of books i am/did read (Blue Like Jazz; I, Isaac) and got pictures with him. I was wishing the pics were taken with us sitting down,however, because the guy is very tall, although he doesn't seem much taller than most because i'm around taller people all the time and it's become normal. But when i see us together in a picture--sheesh! Like, his head is at the top of the frame, and my head is at the bottom. Shoulda sat down for that picture.
Tonight I watched Cinderella Man and ate Chinese food with my friends.
---
Cinderella Man provided me an inspiration. It also reminded me of Lance Armstrong. These guys went through hard times that instructed them why they do their thing. Hollister was instructed that he neeeds to box so he can overcome the clenches of the Depression. Armstrong was instructed to overcome the element of human limitations. As for me--my hard time has instructed me to appreciate and desire flying. Losing it for those moments in the past was like a knockout blow-and how in that season do we wish we were back on our feet in the ring, back on our bike on the road, back on our airplane in the sky. I know why I need to fly. It's where my heart is. It's how I translate life. It's what makes me feel alive.
During my first flight in Alaska, Dwayne told me to 'fly the river.' The meaning of that is bringing the airplane as close as comfortable to sturdy Earth and following the same course as the river--around ledges, above trees and next to cliffs. This brought me immediate delight that gushed all through my body. I thought at those minutes that if I were to die right now, i would be content because as of those moments, I had really lived. Watching God's beautiful, unblemished creation rushing along each side of you is exhiliration unequalled. Especially when that creation is crystal blue glacier walls and glass-still waters and soaring mountains and puffy-clouded sky.
I had three more inspirations today. They're all about teaching.
1) Driving back on I-94 from Battle Creek, i espied the on- and exit ramps of one rest stop. Along these ramps were posted No Parking signs --the ones that look like a "P" crossed out with a red stripe. Fifteen of them, man, spaced forty feet from each other, all in a line on the side of each ramp. One would suppose that just two or three would do. But an entire parade of No Parking signs is what sufficed here for causing drivers to learn to not park on the ramp.
Learning from the same information repeated fifteen times is what we and our students really need most of the time. When I think about Michiana rest stops, the first thing that pops up in my head is "don't park on the ramp." Thanks to the fifteen signs, i'll always park to sleep in the parking lot of the rest stop. What is some information I need embrace for myself or instill in others? Is it important enough to remember? If so, perhaps I should repeat it fifteen times. You'd better believe that I or my student will always, always know that when we go to our proverbial Michigan rest stop, we're going to go without hesitation to the parking lot.

2) I am impressed at how boxers train. They run, they beat the air in combo punch simulations, they whack the floppy leather teardrop thingie and they smash a sand-filled bag that, depressingly, doesn't fall down or stagger like an opponent. Then they go in the fighting ring and all those training exercises amount to--- hopping around, covering tender faces of body and face and best of all whaling on a real person who's much softer than the sandbag and slower than the teardrop thingie. Was the training really worthwhile? Of course it was. Diversified training such as what boxers go through builds and solidifies intricate habit patterns of balance, control, precision, rhythm, focus, speed and power. All these unite on the day of the fight. Absurd and grotesque to some, and art and magnificience to others, the sport is one to appreciate. It's an ideal portrait of what's required of us if we want to perform to the best of our potential. Weaknesses in performance are a reflection of what the training neglected, and vice-versa. If we want to do something really well, we must work on more than just the thing itself. Performing complex tasks like playing an instrument, flying an airplane, instructing a mother on how to care for her child all are a multifaceted skill. It's important to take seriously the building of each component of the whole if we expect the result to be what we want.

3) In my aviation instructor curriculum, i memorized the definition of learning to be "changing behavior as a result of an experience." We VERY often mistake going through the failure, regret and redemption process as a learning exercise. "Johnny, give me the cookie. Now i slap your hand (ow!) and now you've learned not to take the cookie, right? (yes, mommy)" Actually, Johnny did not learn anything. He was instructed to not take the cookie, and the whack on the hand reinforced that instruction; i.e., he remembers the pain caused by mommy's slapping his hand and he associates that with the event of stealing the cookie. The process is Johnny's brain is now, don't steal a cookie because last time i got hurt. When, on the following day, Johnny has a craving for cookies, he decides to leave them alone until Mommy permits him to have one, THEN he has learned. He changed his behavior. The equation is Experience-lesson-behavior modification.
So often we pat ourselves on the back because we erred then were instructed on how to do better then get over the pain. "Now I've learned NOT to do that" is our triumphant acclaim. Uh, no. We never changed the behavior. We just imagine reliving the past and doing it right and feeling good with what the imaginary we did in our imaginary world.
What proves learning is a test. A test is the only proving grounds for real learning.
We abuse the word "Learned" because it is in the past tense. How have I learned something if i have not yet proved a changed behavior? To emerge from a mistake and pain and instruction and to say "now i've learned" is a contradiction.

Instead of deceiving ourselves by thinking "i've learned now from that mistake", let us hold on to the instruction we received in the wake of our mistake, and use that instruction to guide us through future decisions. Only when we apply our knowledge bestowed by the instruction will we truly change our behavior.


He who keeps instruction is in the way of life.
-Proverbs 10:17