It was all better back then...
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Seven Hills aerodrome
Aitrucks, 300 horses, Wilf and the Winfield banners tows, bull ants at Maitland as the dropped banner was retrieved, beers with Burnie after it.
Ray Whitbread firing up the 'Stangs, while the big iron Aztec went out on a mysterious IFR mission (it was raining and everything).
St Mary's with Grahams dog biting you as you stepped out (wheels on before the green lights or you'll hit the bloody pipeline), and don't taxi off the bridge.
Alan Savage, pipe only works well at 8000 cabin altitude and that fool approach to Mittagong using SY DME/VOR, terrify a stone idol.
Home Joyce, I wax maudlin.
Ray Whitbread firing up the 'Stangs, while the big iron Aztec went out on a mysterious IFR mission (it was raining and everything).
St Mary's with Grahams dog biting you as you stepped out (wheels on before the green lights or you'll hit the bloody pipeline), and don't taxi off the bridge.
Alan Savage, pipe only works well at 8000 cabin altitude and that fool approach to Mittagong using SY DME/VOR, terrify a stone idol.
Home Joyce, I wax maudlin.
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You could tell the hostie she was the most beautiful woman youve ever met without fear of a sexual harassment charge
Join Date: May 2007
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It's not just that there is us (over 50's) and them (spotty 19 year olds), remember that there is a whole other demographic in between, and they too have their own story, though without the rose tinted ray bans:
When I was a kid, adults used to bore me to tears
With their tedious diatribes about how hard things were. When
they were growing up; what with walking Twenty-five miles to school
every morning
... Uphill... barefoot.
BOTH ways
Yadda, yadda, yadda
And I remember promising myself that when I grew up,
There was no way in hell I was going to lay
A bunch of crap like that on kids about how hard I had it
And how easy they've got it!
But now that... I'm over the ripe old age of
Thirty, I can't help but look around and notice the youth of
today.
You've got it so easy! I mean, compared to my
Childhood, you live in a damn Utopia!
And I hate to say it but you kids today you
Don't know how good you've got it!
I mean, when I was a kid we didn't have The Internet. If we
wanted to know something, We had to go to the damn library and
Look it up ourselves, in the card catalogue!!
There was no email!! We had to actually write
Somebody a letter, with a pen!
...Then you had to walk all the way across the street and put
it in the mailbox and it would take like a week to get there!
There were no MP3's or Napsters! You wanted to
Steal music, you had to hitchhike to the damn record store and
shoplift it yourself!
Or you had to wait around all day to tape it off the radio and
the DJ'd usually talk over the beginning and @#*% it all up!
We didn't have fancy crap like Call Waiting! If you
Were on the phone and somebody else called they got a busy
signal, that's it!
And we didn't have fancy Caller ID either!
When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was! It could be
your school,
Your mom, your boss, your Bookie, your drug dealer, a
collections agent, you
Just didn't know!!! You had to pick it up and take your
chances, mister!
We didn't have any fancy Sony Playstation video
Games with high-resolution 3-D graphics! We had the Atari 2600!
With games
Like 'Space Invaders' and 'asteroids'. Your guy was a little
square! You
Actually had to use your Imagination!! And there were no
multiple levels or
Screens, it was just one screen
Forever!
And you could never win. The game just kept getting
Harder and harder and
Faster and faster until you died! Just like LIFE!
You had to use a Little book called a TV Guide to find out what
was
On! You were screwed when it Came to channel surfing! You had
to get off
Your ass and walk over to the TV to change the Channel and
there was no
Cartoon Network either! You could only get cartoons
On Saturday Morning. Do you Hear what I'm saying!?! We had to
wait ALL WEEK
For cartoons, you spoiled
Little rat-bastards!
And we didn't have microwaves, if we wanted to heat
Something up we had to use the stove ... Imagine that!
That's exactly what I'm talking about! You kids
Today have got it too easy.
You're spoiled. You guys wouldn't have lasted
Five minutes back in 1980!
Regards,
The over 30 Crowd
When I was a kid, adults used to bore me to tears
With their tedious diatribes about how hard things were. When
they were growing up; what with walking Twenty-five miles to school
every morning
... Uphill... barefoot.
BOTH ways
Yadda, yadda, yadda
And I remember promising myself that when I grew up,
There was no way in hell I was going to lay
A bunch of crap like that on kids about how hard I had it
And how easy they've got it!
But now that... I'm over the ripe old age of
Thirty, I can't help but look around and notice the youth of
today.
You've got it so easy! I mean, compared to my
Childhood, you live in a damn Utopia!
And I hate to say it but you kids today you
Don't know how good you've got it!
I mean, when I was a kid we didn't have The Internet. If we
wanted to know something, We had to go to the damn library and
Look it up ourselves, in the card catalogue!!
There was no email!! We had to actually write
Somebody a letter, with a pen!
...Then you had to walk all the way across the street and put
it in the mailbox and it would take like a week to get there!
There were no MP3's or Napsters! You wanted to
Steal music, you had to hitchhike to the damn record store and
shoplift it yourself!
Or you had to wait around all day to tape it off the radio and
the DJ'd usually talk over the beginning and @#*% it all up!
We didn't have fancy crap like Call Waiting! If you
Were on the phone and somebody else called they got a busy
signal, that's it!
And we didn't have fancy Caller ID either!
When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was! It could be
your school,
Your mom, your boss, your Bookie, your drug dealer, a
collections agent, you
Just didn't know!!! You had to pick it up and take your
chances, mister!
We didn't have any fancy Sony Playstation video
Games with high-resolution 3-D graphics! We had the Atari 2600!
With games
Like 'Space Invaders' and 'asteroids'. Your guy was a little
square! You
Actually had to use your Imagination!! And there were no
multiple levels or
Screens, it was just one screen
Forever!
And you could never win. The game just kept getting
Harder and harder and
Faster and faster until you died! Just like LIFE!
You had to use a Little book called a TV Guide to find out what
was
On! You were screwed when it Came to channel surfing! You had
to get off
Your ass and walk over to the TV to change the Channel and
there was no
Cartoon Network either! You could only get cartoons
On Saturday Morning. Do you Hear what I'm saying!?! We had to
wait ALL WEEK
For cartoons, you spoiled
Little rat-bastards!
And we didn't have microwaves, if we wanted to heat
Something up we had to use the stove ... Imagine that!
That's exactly what I'm talking about! You kids
Today have got it too easy.
You're spoiled. You guys wouldn't have lasted
Five minutes back in 1980!
Regards,
The over 30 Crowd
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Not to forget how flying standards have fallen!
"With only a few exceptions someone passing a CPL today would not have passed a PPL twenty years ago".
Say no more!
Outcome based training does not work.
you want proof? Go down the airport and if you can see thru the fence (once upon a time you could sit on it!!) observe what the landings on a day with a good cross wind are like..... oooch!
"With only a few exceptions someone passing a CPL today would not have passed a PPL twenty years ago".
Say no more!
Outcome based training does not work.
you want proof? Go down the airport and if you can see thru the fence (once upon a time you could sit on it!!) observe what the landings on a day with a good cross wind are like..... oooch!
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"Not to forget how flying standards have fallen!"
Yes, I was appalled at what a Pre-commercial test candidate didn't know when I went for a fly with him BUT...
The plethora of bulldust they have to try and cram into their heads in the hours they need and struggle to pay for is pretty rediculous.
We learned to fly an aeroplane.
They have the pumped, up oom-pah band, marching girl, flag waving curriculum full of all sorts of politically correct, fancy trappings filling their heads.
Their peers, who’s fathers have deep pockets, stroll around the aerodrome wearin’ uniforms with golden bars on the shoulders, dreamin’ of the flight around Australia they’re gunna do in the Bonanza with two GPSs to get up hours when they’ve completed themulti engine Command instrument rating.
The fathers are skitin’ to their mates that, “Young Ashley is studying full time to become an airline pilot in fifteen months”.
David Clark headsets, Rayban sunnies, eleven buck a piece VTCs that are out of date every coupla months are regarded as necessary as wearin shoes.
The poor bugg*rs putting themselves through... themselves, have this “crock” as “normal”.
I went for a ride with that Commercial trainee when he was doing his last ten or so hours converting to Constant Speed Prop and retractable gear.
What a shemozzle… We spent most of the three quarters of an hour lookin’ for a couple of bandits (rich boys from another country who’s understanding of the international air language was a bit minimal) who were lurching round the training area, getting in the way while my pilot tried to get in a number of forced landings.
They didn’t seem to understand my pilot and I didn’t have a clue what THEY were sayin’.
Paid for an hour and a quarter and did two forced landings and two or three circuits.
Trying to learn to fly now… thank God I don’t have to.
Yes, I was appalled at what a Pre-commercial test candidate didn't know when I went for a fly with him BUT...
The plethora of bulldust they have to try and cram into their heads in the hours they need and struggle to pay for is pretty rediculous.
We learned to fly an aeroplane.
They have the pumped, up oom-pah band, marching girl, flag waving curriculum full of all sorts of politically correct, fancy trappings filling their heads.
Their peers, who’s fathers have deep pockets, stroll around the aerodrome wearin’ uniforms with golden bars on the shoulders, dreamin’ of the flight around Australia they’re gunna do in the Bonanza with two GPSs to get up hours when they’ve completed themulti engine Command instrument rating.
The fathers are skitin’ to their mates that, “Young Ashley is studying full time to become an airline pilot in fifteen months”.
David Clark headsets, Rayban sunnies, eleven buck a piece VTCs that are out of date every coupla months are regarded as necessary as wearin shoes.
The poor bugg*rs putting themselves through... themselves, have this “crock” as “normal”.
I went for a ride with that Commercial trainee when he was doing his last ten or so hours converting to Constant Speed Prop and retractable gear.
What a shemozzle… We spent most of the three quarters of an hour lookin’ for a couple of bandits (rich boys from another country who’s understanding of the international air language was a bit minimal) who were lurching round the training area, getting in the way while my pilot tried to get in a number of forced landings.
They didn’t seem to understand my pilot and I didn’t have a clue what THEY were sayin’.
Paid for an hour and a quarter and did two forced landings and two or three circuits.
Trying to learn to fly now… thank God I don’t have to.
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sixtiesrelic,
do i detect just the faintest whiff of cyicism there?
HD
ps. BTW i heartily concur,
once was i time when you would avoid having to operate the huge blue box in the panel of the scaretourer so that you did not have to listen to the horrendous hash that accompanied the FS operators who seemed to delight in talking too fast for us noephytes. god alone knows how much that skyphone handicapped the climb of a 100hp 'concrete sparrow'.
these days you cannot shut the little b@stards up, they seem to think that an aircarft is powered by circuit speak, stuff the lookout, bugga the accurate height and pattern position, forget about the stabilized speed, attitude and descent on base/final, just jibber relentlessly and tell evryone that you are 'number one' (save looking obviously) and then smash the poor old cherokee onto the middle of the runway, richochet back into the air and set off on the next leg of the GPS guided tour of the state. all this talking is bad enough, but it would work better if it was in EEENNGGlish and if they could actually tell east from west, be actually AT the altitude that they specify or even be at the near position that they specify, inbound or even in the circuit.
aviate navigate communicate worked back then, and it will still work now!!
Phew, I do agree don't I... i even surprised myself a bit there, but the whole airmanship thing seems to rate waaaay down there with round instruments and paying for your own lessons to these guys. skill not important, white shirt, sunnies and a future as a co-pilot beckons.
and another thing....
when i was a young bloke you got a job and saved up to buy a car, usually a holden, and proceeded to hoik the engine out and put new rings and shells in it, a yella terra head, a wade cam, a couple of SU's, some genie extractors and a two inch straight through system, put the widest tyres that would fit on your rims (or dished rims, or even rims of a completely different car - alloy wheels, or Mags were for racing cars) 'lowered' it with an oxy torch, painted the grill black, put some aircraft landing lights on the front bumber, installed a radio aerial, so as to have somewhere to put the fox tail, whacked a stripe up the bonnet and you were off to impress the tarts with your 'hotted up' motor. Not only could you get an evenings entertainment at the drive in, but you learned all about how things work (and why they sometimes don't work)
The kids today get dad to buy them a late model Honda, get the ugliest CNC wheels ever seen put on it, get a 4 inch chrome outlet tip put on the muffler, get the windows tinted and get a blow off valve, and pay someone to install a sound system capable of launching a saturn V rocket in it, turn their designer cap sideways and they are proud owners of a 'custom' car from which they can tour the neighbourhood selling ekkies and getting deaf from the incessant doof doof. the only thing that they learn is how to put stickers on the back window, that the tarts are now called bitches and..... weeeel that's about it really. that and they have some how learned to defy gravity with their trousers, which should really be worn at wiast level (over 50's) or hip level (under 30's), but not actually below the buttocks.
FAAAARCK that was a very big afterthought ps..I really am getting old aren't I!!!!!
HD
do i detect just the faintest whiff of cyicism there?
HD
ps. BTW i heartily concur,
once was i time when you would avoid having to operate the huge blue box in the panel of the scaretourer so that you did not have to listen to the horrendous hash that accompanied the FS operators who seemed to delight in talking too fast for us noephytes. god alone knows how much that skyphone handicapped the climb of a 100hp 'concrete sparrow'.
these days you cannot shut the little b@stards up, they seem to think that an aircarft is powered by circuit speak, stuff the lookout, bugga the accurate height and pattern position, forget about the stabilized speed, attitude and descent on base/final, just jibber relentlessly and tell evryone that you are 'number one' (save looking obviously) and then smash the poor old cherokee onto the middle of the runway, richochet back into the air and set off on the next leg of the GPS guided tour of the state. all this talking is bad enough, but it would work better if it was in EEENNGGlish and if they could actually tell east from west, be actually AT the altitude that they specify or even be at the near position that they specify, inbound or even in the circuit.
aviate navigate communicate worked back then, and it will still work now!!
Phew, I do agree don't I... i even surprised myself a bit there, but the whole airmanship thing seems to rate waaaay down there with round instruments and paying for your own lessons to these guys. skill not important, white shirt, sunnies and a future as a co-pilot beckons.
and another thing....
when i was a young bloke you got a job and saved up to buy a car, usually a holden, and proceeded to hoik the engine out and put new rings and shells in it, a yella terra head, a wade cam, a couple of SU's, some genie extractors and a two inch straight through system, put the widest tyres that would fit on your rims (or dished rims, or even rims of a completely different car - alloy wheels, or Mags were for racing cars) 'lowered' it with an oxy torch, painted the grill black, put some aircraft landing lights on the front bumber, installed a radio aerial, so as to have somewhere to put the fox tail, whacked a stripe up the bonnet and you were off to impress the tarts with your 'hotted up' motor. Not only could you get an evenings entertainment at the drive in, but you learned all about how things work (and why they sometimes don't work)
The kids today get dad to buy them a late model Honda, get the ugliest CNC wheels ever seen put on it, get a 4 inch chrome outlet tip put on the muffler, get the windows tinted and get a blow off valve, and pay someone to install a sound system capable of launching a saturn V rocket in it, turn their designer cap sideways and they are proud owners of a 'custom' car from which they can tour the neighbourhood selling ekkies and getting deaf from the incessant doof doof. the only thing that they learn is how to put stickers on the back window, that the tarts are now called bitches and..... weeeel that's about it really. that and they have some how learned to defy gravity with their trousers, which should really be worn at wiast level (over 50's) or hip level (under 30's), but not actually below the buttocks.
FAAAARCK that was a very big afterthought ps..I really am getting old aren't I!!!!!
HD
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Location: Sale, Australia
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I really am getting old aren't I
If you
Were on the phone and somebody else called they got a busy
signal, that's it!
Were on the phone and somebody else called they got a busy
signal, that's it!
We had the Atari 2600!
With games
Like 'Space Invaders' and 'asteroids'. Your guy was a little
square! You
Actually had to use your Imagination!! And there were no
multiple levels or
Screens, it was just one screen
With games
Like 'Space Invaders' and 'asteroids'. Your guy was a little
square! You
Actually had to use your Imagination!! And there were no
multiple levels or
Screens, it was just one screen
You had
to get off
Your ass and walk over to the TV to change the Channel
to get off
Your ass and walk over to the TV to change the Channel
You had
to get off
Your ass and walk over to the TV to change the Channel and
there was no
Cartoon Network either! You could only get cartoons
On Saturday Morning. Do you Hear what I'm saying!?! We had to
wait ALL WEEK
to get off
Your ass and walk over to the TV to change the Channel and
there was no
Cartoon Network either! You could only get cartoons
On Saturday Morning. Do you Hear what I'm saying!?! We had to
wait ALL WEEK
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Keys/locks so worn out one could use just about any key to turn the mag switch and starter. It worked. And gently push the glass on the A.I. to stop the leaking hissing air. Not to mention the ever present smell of avgas.
What about real outdoor dunnies, the ones with the can underneath? If you lived in town the nightman emptied yours once a week; otherwise it was up to you. Once, when our regular nightman was away, his replacement hoisted our can onto his shoulder only to collect the clothesline with it on the way back to his truck.
What about condies crystals fer snake bite? A matchstick wrapped in foil for a replacement fuse? Us kids having to forever turn the handle of the butter churn, it took ages. Water tanks. What about water tanks? We had three 1000 gallon tanks, each with no lid. It was our job to clean them out occasionally. Each was filled up to the first sheet with mud, sticks, dead birds, possums and frogs and more mud so we would be standing waist deep in it when we started. And to think we were drinking this stuff.
The youth of terday, no idea.....................H.T.F.U.
What about real outdoor dunnies, the ones with the can underneath? If you lived in town the nightman emptied yours once a week; otherwise it was up to you. Once, when our regular nightman was away, his replacement hoisted our can onto his shoulder only to collect the clothesline with it on the way back to his truck.
What about condies crystals fer snake bite? A matchstick wrapped in foil for a replacement fuse? Us kids having to forever turn the handle of the butter churn, it took ages. Water tanks. What about water tanks? We had three 1000 gallon tanks, each with no lid. It was our job to clean them out occasionally. Each was filled up to the first sheet with mud, sticks, dead birds, possums and frogs and more mud so we would be standing waist deep in it when we started. And to think we were drinking this stuff.
The youth of terday, no idea.....................H.T.F.U.
"With only a few exceptions someone passing a CPL today would not have passed a PPL twenty years ago".
Say no more!
Outcome based training does not work.
Say no more!
Outcome based training does not work.
I'd genuinely like to know what has changed / removed from the CPL syllabus by CASA / CAA in the last 20 years to have caused what you claim? Or are you talking about airmanship?
Not only could you get an evenings entertainment at the drive in, but you learned all about how things work (and why they sometimes don't work)
Dr
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Ahh,.. growing up and learning how things worked, around home and in the wider world.
Bending an end of a sheet of galv. iron up and using it as a toboggan to learn about gravity and controlled landings after sliding down the sawmills sawdust pile. Billycarts down hills were good for experimenting with too, later, when the terrain was more favourable. The smell of breaking out the bales of new jute bags, all so stiff they had to be spread out in the sun to soften, so that the bag-sewers could stitch ‘em. - (before bulk wheat handling on the Downs.) As a nipper, having to carry the tea billycan, pumpkin and potato scones, and lamingtons, through the stubble to where the harvesters, sewers, and carters were working. Seeing the paddock of ripening wheat or sunflowers in flower as far as the small eye could see. Turning the handle of the separator to get the cream, and the one on the churn to make the butter – then disassembling them to clean them thoroughly. Helping preserve cases of stone fruit, and just about anything in season, into the Vacola glass jars for later. Passing the spanners to Dad as he pulled the head off the K5 truck, the army Duck, Willys jeep, or Sunshine autoheader, or the tracks off the TD 35 to get them ready for planting or harvest. Seeing Charlie Russells funny butterfly-tailed Bonanza just up the road, and not knowing then that it would be another fifteen years or so before actually being able to do more than look at one. Nostalgia…. better stop now before I get to…. Aviation….
Bending an end of a sheet of galv. iron up and using it as a toboggan to learn about gravity and controlled landings after sliding down the sawmills sawdust pile. Billycarts down hills were good for experimenting with too, later, when the terrain was more favourable. The smell of breaking out the bales of new jute bags, all so stiff they had to be spread out in the sun to soften, so that the bag-sewers could stitch ‘em. - (before bulk wheat handling on the Downs.) As a nipper, having to carry the tea billycan, pumpkin and potato scones, and lamingtons, through the stubble to where the harvesters, sewers, and carters were working. Seeing the paddock of ripening wheat or sunflowers in flower as far as the small eye could see. Turning the handle of the separator to get the cream, and the one on the churn to make the butter – then disassembling them to clean them thoroughly. Helping preserve cases of stone fruit, and just about anything in season, into the Vacola glass jars for later. Passing the spanners to Dad as he pulled the head off the K5 truck, the army Duck, Willys jeep, or Sunshine autoheader, or the tracks off the TD 35 to get them ready for planting or harvest. Seeing Charlie Russells funny butterfly-tailed Bonanza just up the road, and not knowing then that it would be another fifteen years or so before actually being able to do more than look at one. Nostalgia…. better stop now before I get to…. Aviation….
What about real outdoor dunnies, the ones with the can underneath? If you lived in town the nightman emptied yours once a week; otherwise it was up to you.
What kind of modern crap is that?
Traditional Long Drop is the way to go!
You have to demonstrate that you can (repeatedly) achieve what is required in the CPL training syllabus, unaided
All CASA have done with CBT is put a name to it and write thousands of words to describe it.
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I wonder how many young pilots know how to lay a flare path. The filling of the flares with kero in the afternoon. Light them at dusk. Then see 5 have been blown out by the wind & always right down the other end of the runway.
Extinguishing them by jogging along the runway with a wet mop. Then as soon as the half scorched mop was back in the club house,the sound of an aircraft circling overhead....uh,oh!!!!
Extinguishing them by jogging along the runway with a wet mop. Then as soon as the half scorched mop was back in the club house,the sound of an aircraft circling overhead....uh,oh!!!!
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As far as I know, the long drop was only ever used in mining country; the dunny usually being dragged over a disused mine. Apparently there were many such things when seasonal opal miners would leave their diggings only to return many months later to find a dunny over where their precious undiscovered gems lay.
Only once was I ever involved in lighting up a strip at night. Pine View north west NSW hosted a visiting RFDS flight to pick up an injured motorcyclist light years ago. How many others on here have had to light up a strip?
Siphoning. What about siphoning? How many you young fellas have syphoned fuel? And I'm not talking about modern-day one-way valves either, just a lump of old garden hose and gravity... or is that atmospheric pressure?
Only once was I ever involved in lighting up a strip at night. Pine View north west NSW hosted a visiting RFDS flight to pick up an injured motorcyclist light years ago. How many others on here have had to light up a strip?
Siphoning. What about siphoning? How many you young fellas have syphoned fuel? And I'm not talking about modern-day one-way valves either, just a lump of old garden hose and gravity... or is that atmospheric pressure?
I wonder how many young pilots know how to lay a flare path.
Or a few years later as a 21 year old in the RAAF walking down the hill at Nowra Naval Air Base and asking about the possibility of having a fly of one of the Navy Wirraways on the tarmac. The flight commander Lieutenant Colin Wheatley saying what are you flying at the moment and the answer was second dicky on Lincolns but have some hours on the Mustang. The Lieut sez "Mustangs?" Forget the Wirrway, Sergeant - Here are Pilots Notes Sea Fury. Come back after lunch and take that Fury (920) over there". And I did, too.
