My Aunt Is Hot

I soloed a full scale airplane today; a 1981 Cessna 172 P Model to be precise. I went out flying with my instructor, and as we’re taxiing back, he freaks out on me: “AHH STOP THE PLANE! STOP THE PLANE!” So I jam on the breaks and look at him with probably the most “What the hell” face ever. He’s like, “I’m getting out, latch the door behind me.

I was ungodly nervous. I’ve been delaying my solo not because I’m not capable but because I don’t really fly often. I just wanted to make sure I was super sharp so I could nail it down. So I taxi out, and get the old, “Cessna 53751, Position and Hold on Runway 22R” For those who don’t understand the jargon, you just go to the middle of the runway and sit there until they say go. It’s not that common, and it really made me nervous just sitting there with 5000 feet of runway in front of me and no one sitting next me.

After what seemed like an eternity, I hear: “Cessna 53751, Clear for takeoff, 22R”. I hesitated a moment, said “TallyHo!” to myself, and advanced the throttle. I was a nervous busy bee going down that runway, but as soon as the wheels lifted off the ground, I was ice man. Cold water ran through my veins. It was awesome. I had total and complete confidence … which is good because if I didn’t I think that I’d have been in BIG trouble.

I did two of the nicest squeaker touch and goes of my life, and turned it around for a full stop landing. I’m still buzzing about it now. It was one of the most exhilerating things I’ve ever done. I feel like such a bad ass.

Next: Getting my grubby paws on someone’s Extra or something.

The picture says it all. I’m still walking around like I’ve nailed a porn star or something. I totally understand why pilots are such cocky fuckers now.

Through some wrangling, I got in touch with a guy who works for the Phoenix Coyotes. Apparently, they needed a skilled pilot to fly an 8′ x 15′ Chalupa at the Phoenix Coyotes Hockey Games. In case you don’t know, because I didn’t, the Phoenix Coyotes are an NHL Hockey Team that play in Jobbing.com Arena in Phoenix.

When I asked him what kind of blimp it was, he said it wasn’t a traditional blimp, but a giant Chalupa. I knew that I had to fly this thing. I’ve flown a ton of stuff, planes, helis, rocket planes, but never a blimp. After all, it goes like 5 miles an hour, how hard could it be?

We met up at the arena for a practice session to find an answer to my question. In short, blimps are fucking hard to fly. I hate to even admit this, being the ‘hotshot’ pilot that I pretend to be, but I crashed a blimp. Somehow, I got backwards on the thrusters, and it started going down. So what does one do when a blimp starts to head down? More power. Little did I know I was just powering it downward even faster.

As this 15 pound behemoth starts barreling towards center ice, I add more power in a desperate attempt to arrest the sink rate. However, it was in vein. It thumped itself right into center ice, where they drop the puck. I tried to play it off like it was on purpose since it was placed so perfectly. I was hoping no one would figure it out, but alas, my friends wont let me live it down that I crashed a blimp.

I eventually got it down good enough to feel comfortable flying it at a game. So at the very first game I fly it, I let my friend Alex fly it the first two times. He did a good job, we dropped the little chalupa coupons and all was well with the world. While we were setting it up to fly a third time, Blimp boy comes down and says his boss just called him, “The President of Taco Bell is in the audience tonight, and he thinks the blimp looks sad and saggy. We have to fill it up with some more helium.” I very professionally told him that the blimp is flying fine and if we’re going to change anything we should wait until we’re done for the day.

My recommendations went unheard. They filled up the blimp with more helium, put it out on the ice, and stuffed the transmitter in my hands. As I start to fly it, I notice that it seems a little bit more … spry … than it was before. As I start to fly it over the audience, I notice that it is moving upward very keenly. I turn the thrusters down and start to add power. It keeps heading on up. I add some power. It keeps going up. I put the thrusters to full power. It keeps pulling a “Jeffersons” on me: Moving on up.

At this point, panic starts to set in: This 15 pound Chalupa was rapidly moving towards very, very hot high power Halogen lights. The kind of lights that could readily melt a hole in such a noble airship. I started to freak out, I rotated the thrusters in an effort to get it over the ice; maybe get it in some cold sinking air. I rotated the wrong way, and started to drive this Chalupa in a Mezzanine. I just barely managed to avoid hitting a balcony. I’m sure the people there felt the prop wash from this thing. It was CLOSE.

By the grace of God, Jesus, Budha, or some combination of the three, I managed to get this thing into a column of sinking air. It started coming down. I managed to get it over center ice, just like where I crashed it before. I didn’t even bother to fly it back, I just stuck it to the ice and did the walk of shame to go get it. I have not felt that kind of stress with a transmitter in my hand since I learned how to fly.

Oh, during this whole drama, I kept dropping the little free Chalupa coupons.

The definition of grace under pressure.

As I was walking out, blimp boy says to me, “By the way, that balcony you almost hit, That was the VIP Section. The CEO of Taco Bell was sitting in the very section.”

Me: “Tell him that was all for his benefit.”

Joshua Ziering

By now, if you haven’t seen one of those Geico commercials you’ve been living under a rock. (No pun intended) They feature several cave men living in the modern day, unfortunately, nobody really knows about them. Because of their lack of knowledge, they make cave man jokes, and implications that cave men aren’t smart, etc. That is, until one of the cave men takes up the cause and starts protesting the unfair treatment of cave men. The commercials are clever and well done.

Dig a little deeper, and you’ll find that they dont just stop at commercials. Apparently, the ‘cave man’ named Joe Dyton is part of a viral marketing campaign by Geico Car Insurance. They’ve created a whole little world for him. You can read his magazines, listen to his iPod, read his blog, and even find out that he uses and electric toothbrush. In any case, Very disturbing. Somewhat hilarious, but I feel like a huge voyeur looking into this guys life. And on a side note, He’s an actor in a movie about to come out called “Smart Casual”, and he’s got a damn nice place. His TV is a panty dropper for sure.

Cheers Joe (Link to www.cavemancrib.com)

-Josh

Well, I just read in the “Reality TV Press” yesterday that my uncle Ian Ziering, is going to be on Dancing With The Stars. This means I can finally take the lid off this secret. Luckily, for my readership, I’ve had a lot of time to think about the many different angles of this.

First, his partner is smoking hot Cheryl Burke. She’s this little Filipino-Irish-Russian dancer chick. Whoa boy. Hottie for sure. Even better, she took Football Player Emmit Smith all the way to the top of the Dancing With The Stars podium last year. So at least we know she can go all the way. You can visit her website at wwww.DancingCheryl.com And on a side note, she’ll apparently be in the May issue of Stuff Magazine. So it’s not like she’s “Independently Hot”, she’s being recognized as hot all over the place. That’s good, people like to vote for hot chicks. And by people, I clearly mean me.

So that’s my Uncle’s dancing partner. Not a bad way to start off the show for sure. However, I did have serious thoughts about dancing. As many people know, my family is Jewish. (Even though I’m not) Unfortunately, I’ve attended a number of Jewish events growing up. I can’t help but feel that perhaps the Jewishness is a hindering factor here. After all, this is a culture of people that is often times so stubborn, that the only way to get them onto the dance floor is to find where they are sitting, pick them up, and dance over to the floor holding their chair up. Suppose you’re not the one sitting in a chair. What starts out as a small circle of people eventually turns into rotating concentric circles of Jews. Even if you’re just watching, some obnoxious family member is going to deliver the swiftest kind of Jewish guilt: They’re going to grab your hand and pull you into this hurricane called the Hora.

This is the environment from which both my uncle and I learned to dance. It’s not exactly, for lack of a less punful term, “A Leg Up”.

It takes a couple of drinks to get me even near the dance floor. But with Jews, it’s different. The holiday in which Jews drink the most is Passover. It requires, if you’re a good Jew, you must drink four glasses of wine. However, no wild Hora circles break out around the Afee Comen (A piece of Matzah traditontally hidden for the children).

I decided that perhaps some investigation needed to be done. Dancing with the Stars isn’t the kind of dancing you do at a wedding when you’ve got a few drink in you and decide that your cousin’s sister-in-law is a prime target.

I went to Google Images and typed in “Good Dancers”. I saw a lot of fine, upstanding people who were dancing. Whether they were good or not is difficult to determine by the picture. But I’m going to bet “Yes”. After all, you don’t photograph bad dancers…. You video tape them.

After finding 500 or so alleged good dancers in that search, I decided I would change the terms just a little bit. I left the two main words there, but I added “jewish” right in between them. How many results were there for “Good Jewish Dancers”? “Results 1 - 21 of about 23 GOOD JEWISH DANCERS”

I have no doubt in my mind that if their are 21 good jewish dancers in the world, my uncle, is, or will be one of them. I’m a big believer in the philosophy of “You’re only as good as the people your surround yourself with”. This Cheryl chick looks like she can do some really freaky good dance shit. I think if he can just manage to stand next to her rythmically, he’ll win.

I might have to make a new domain if he wins or something. MyUncleisAGoodDancer.com. I know I’m pulling for him. If he wins, itll make me a good dancer by association. God knows I need the help.

-Joshua Ziering