An old dog learns new trick

It was late in the morning on Labor Day. Weather was perfect at 72 degrees and sunny. My wife and I were sitting on the rear of my car, legs dangling as we waited. The parking lot was empty and very quiet. My insides were less so.

I was preparing for what would turn out to be a thrill of a lifetime, doing something I always dreamed about.

Up until now I had convinced myself that to undertake such a thing was "impractical," "superfluous." There are better ways to spend your money, I would tell myself. Anyway, it's over in a flash and then what do you have?

***
The white sedan pulled into the lot and a tall man with sunglasses emerged.

"Morning," he said cheerfully, pulling out a notebook and two headsets from his car.

"He looks really young," whispered my wife, a little worried.

"Not much wind today," I said trying to appear somewhat knowledgeable. I reached into my pocket and handed him an envelope given to me by my staff.

He took it and smiled as we walked to the hangar. "Funny thing. They do want to get paid for doing this." ***

It was my 60th birthday and my staff had chipped in for one hour of flying lessons. Apparently I have a disorder that manifests itself with my loudly professing my childhood dreams in small gatherings. Remarkably, they caught on.

When one of my daughters found out she said, "So either they like you or they're hoping the plane will crash."

It was a small plane -- a Piper Archer II. You could tell by the cracked, weathered fiberglass that it was old. I wasn't going to ask how old. He didn't ask my age and I likewise was trying to be just as courteous.

As I boarded from the right side, the pilot said "Scoot over." Since that's traditionally the pilot's side, a warm awareness fell over me -- like something you feel when a bullet whizzes by your head. "You'll be more comfortable over here for what you'll be doing."

I'm thinking now my daughter was on to something.

He explained the functions of the instruments, the adjustments he was making and patiently answered the obvious questions he must have heard a hundred times before ... at least, I HOPE he heard them a hundred times before.

He then primed the cylinders, fired up the engine and we taxied for takeoff, quickly climbing to 1,500 feet. As we leveled off, he set the GPS and then said "OK, it's yours. Just keep the horizon level between the top of the dash and the window." Frankly, that was the easy part. What people may not know is that when you are in the air, flying is relatively easy. You point and go. I've been a passenger in small planes before and I found flying just as relaxing as driving in a car.

But now I was in the pilot's seat. It's vastly different. There's a high degree of mutual awareness among pilots up here. We all want to know where you are at and how close you are or will be. Chatter on the radio helps as does telegraphing your position, especially approaching other airports.

Unlike driving a car where you can see your threat relatively easily, the sky can be a bit of a trickster.

"You might want to move over to your right a little to avoid those guy wires on the tower," the pilot said. The tower looked pretty far off but I dutifully followed the instructions. When we did pass the tower it looked pretty damned close and I said so.

"It can be deceiving," he noted. "And when you're going 130 mph, it comes up pretty fast."

That's the first I heard of the speed we were traveling. It sure didn't seem that fast. For an old single-engine plane, it was feeling pretty darn good! I relaxed a little.

***
The pilot's name was Luke. He served in the Air Force and when he got out he was hooked, flying commercial, contract and private. He was part of a club now and, as a favor, he occasionally gives some informal flying lessons to friends and friends of friends.

You could tell he was an experienced pilot. He had the same "4C" demeanor I've noticed in others of his ilk ... calm, classy, confident and congenial.

One time in Alaska, we flew with a retired stunt pilot who wore a ball cap that had a pony tail attached. I worried that we had a clown at the helm. I was wrong. He was just relaxing and having fun but when he was in the air, he was Sky King of the Glaciers.

Luke was Sky King of the Minnesota River Valley.

As we flew close to North Mankato, I wanted to take some photos so he took over. He banked smoothly and quickly flew low enough so I could get some photos of my town house by Benson Park.

Then he feathered the engine so I could get the best shots. They turned out to be some beautifully crisp pictures. My wife later said she wished she was on the driveway waving to us.

When I took back control, I noticed that I was conscious of his flying style. When I had the stick I tried to battle the wind currents. With Luke in control, I didn't notice them. It was smooth, easy, solid.

Later I became aware that flying isn't about correctly reading instruments or adjusting gauges or "steering." First, it's about feel. Pilots don't conquer the sky; they flow with it. Unlike a car that goes left or right in a forward motion, a plane has four variations. The rudder moves the plane left or right. The elevator moves the plane up or down. The aileron rolls the plane left or right. The thrust controls the speed. An experienced pilot performs these functions as if it were second nature.

Secondly, it's not about steering. On the way back to the airport, Luke said we would do a couple of "touch and goes" (land and then take off again). Then he said... "And the second one will be yours." Say what!

This is when you learn that flying is not about pulling and pushing the wheel. That only controls the elevator which means going up or down.

It's about the throttle or speed control and using your foot pedals to maneuver the ailerons for left and right shifts and rolls of the plane.

After the descent and then takeoff with Luke squarely in control, we flew back up to 1,500 feet and flew parallel to the airstrip for awhile. Then I banked 90 degrees and began the descent to the runway. While Luke controlled the throttle speed, I had (some) control of the rudder and aimed for the runway. "Keep the top of the runway in your sight and descend slowly," Luke said. He was feathering and I was pointing (although I was conscious his hand was slightly nudging the stick).

We touched down and veered slightly to the right. That's when I discovered that when on the ground, a steering wheel is worthless. It's all about the feet working the ailerons, or those sections of the wing you see move upon landing, which guides the direction of the plane ... the propeller (or throttle) gives the thrust; the "feet" tells the plane where to go.

By speeding up the prop and braking on the left, the plane does an about-face on the runway and we taxi back to the hangar where my wife was waiting.

When I emerged, Luke graciously fibbed and told her "The landing was all his." That's when I noticed my armpits were sopping.

After profusely thanking Luke, I walked back to the car and my wife turned to me and asked "You OK? You seem like you're in a daze."

I'm sure it was the grin. An old dog can have a Cheshire grin, right?

What is the greater Mankato way?

"Community development precedes economic development." This observation didn't come from an economist nor an activist. It was spoken by Lloyd Gray, managing editor of a Tupelo, MS, newspaper that for decades has been a leader in community development and often cited as a chief contributor to the rise of a city once considered the worst of the worst.
It reminded me of something an economic developer in the '90s told me. "You have to make sure your house is clean and everything is in order before you invite guests over."
The Northeast Mississippi Daily Journal understood that and worked with community leaders to bring focus to serious detriments in their community. It was struggling with high dropout rates, an inadequately trained workforce and a divisive community that was at odds with one another.
That same economic developer told me businesses don't look for reasons to pick communities, they look for reasons to exclude them. And for Tupelo, those were pretty good reasons for exclusion.
The newspaper was convinced it needed to be the central campfire for the community to gather around and discuss, measure and establish a reference point from which they can move. "People still yearn for a geographic connection, to feel more what it's all about," said Gray. Newspapers "can't be more noise. We must be relevant and engaged." We must help share the common experience and identity of our community.
The newspaper focused its editorial gaze on issues confronting Tupelo with an agenda for all to see. It wondered publicly what was holding the community back from progressing. It printed best practices from other communities to show what can be done.
That is not at odds with solid journalism, he said. "If we see foibles and failures, we will report on them but news organizations that only report those things distort and present an incomplete, inaccurate picture."
One of those foibles was its high dropout rate, an issue on which the newspaper "beat the drum." It determined that it "cannot prosper without the good health of surrounding communities." So along with other media, they provided free print ads and airtime to convince students not to drop out of school.
"We are not universally loved but people trust us to care about the community." And it was devotion of the community that gave birth to greater cooperation among businesses and government institutions in getting things accomplished.
It was that kind of attitude that helped Tupelo become an economic success story.
In the late '60s, it created more manufacturing jobs than the rest of the state combined.
The furniture industry came into the city and has helped make it a regional center for furniture.
As it grew into a retail center, sales tax collection increased 20 times between 1960 & 1970
And it landed the yet-to-be-opened Toyota plant which the company said was because of the area's collaborative nature, work ethic of trained manufacture workers and quality of education
It's all about tone and motivation, Gray said. "Be aware that you (as a newspaper help) structure the community's identity of itself."
That apparently resonated with the community at large. During one spat of local government bickering, it was obvious the conflict was based more on turf protection than on how to improve Tupelo. The community, said Gray, rebuked those officials saying "That's not the Tupelo way."
Community development precedes economic development. And attitude precedes all.
We all have some say in how our destiny plays out. What is the greater Mankato way? What is it we want to be known for?

Economics of news: Who will pay?

It was billed as the "New Economic Models for News" Conference. I had hoped it would be business models but the "business" of newspapers wasn't the theme; it was more about saving journalism -- more specifically, journalists.
The audience of about 40 was made up mostly of academics from the University of Minnesota, journalism students, journalists or former journalists. And for the most part they were looking for something other than business as the answer. They had been wrung out by conglomerates they felt were more interested in payback than providing a community benefit.
Consequently the models discussed were non-profits, Employee Stock Ownerships, government funded (ala British Broadcasting Corporations), cooperatives and a little know setup called L3C which is a low-profit limited liability company. Now law in a handful of states, proponents are drafting federal legislation and purposely crafting newspapers as potential users. The perceived benefit of an L3C is you can endorse candidates which is not allowed under non-profit models.
Each of these proposals still begged the same question: If these are all such great ideas, how come they aren't being widely used?
First off, there isn't enough non-profit start up money around to bail out all newspapers in trouble. Existing non-profits are struggling too. And, as Joel Kramer of MinnPost.com told everyone, even then you need a "business plan" to sustain yourself after the start up funds are exhausted. Kramer said his plan requires that readers pay; only a quarter of his revenue is coming from advertising.
ESOPs have their pitfalls one of which is dividends tend to benefit the participants and it's a chore to convince employees to take a smaller cut and, oh say, invest in a better inserting machine.
Government-funded news organizations, it could be argued, run counter to the very core of the Fourth Estate's watchdog on government. Although, there was the argument that PBS and NPR are not exactly shrinking violets when government needs to be accountable. (However, they too are having revenue problems.)
All these plans still were struggling with the same problem facing for-profit newspapers -- availability of cash. When credit was easy, you could leverage one dollar against five. And debt load is exactly what got some newspaper chains in trouble.
The problem isn't that newspapers are not profitable; for the most part, they are solid businesses and have adapted to many challenges over the century. The problem many face now is crushing debt loads at a time when advertising revenue is soft.
One of the more practical speakers, Steve Yelvington of Morris Communications, had it right. Journalism never had a business model. It was always subsidized by something -- political parties started it, then it morphed to the commercial application of hooking up businesses with consumers. Just like TV which is an entertainment medium, not a news medium.
Yelvington said we are in a "hurricane" right now and after the storm passes, things will have been moved around. Nothing will be the same.
But in the end we still must find the answer to the central question: what will be the new subsidy for journalism? Or, put more directly, who will pay for the news?