Tower, Talon 08 ready take-off, pad 5!" Thank you

Thank You...

"Blog 108, winds 050 at 30 gusting 200.
You are cleared take-off, your discretion, pad 5."

Whew...!

I thought I'd never get this new blog,
this new "LIFE",
off the ground.

And when you read my bio, you'll understand
why. http://stevenbarnes.ca/about-me/

But then...

About six weeks ago… everything got good.

Everything got real good!

And it was all because of a family of people
that I had never met.
A family I had never spoken to.
And a family I have yet still to meet.

But… it feels like family to me!

So… here I am! Day number one of my very own
shiny new blogging website with the
Internet Lifestyle Network! I feel the urge to take
her for a spin around the block a few times.
You know, break it in… see what she’s got under the hood.

I want to write a thousand different blogs this
very second that have been brewing in my mind
every day and night for the past few weeks.

Ever since the moment I decided to undertake
this blogging adventure of mine I have been
working on a theme, a campaign, an entire
series of blogs, videos, and yes…huge annual meetings!

I believe in thinking big… REAL BIG!

And what an adventure this is going to be!
I have been planning out the first words I would
post on this inaugural day right down to the
spacing, the word choice, and even the punctuation.

Oh, and the tweaked pictures! Oh yes indeed.
I would post a ton of them. The ones that could
draw people into my world of enthusiasm and
charisma, my own flavor of joy!

I wanted to introduce myself to the whole
world, show them who I was, what I wanted
to accomplish, and of course the message
I will convey with my blog.

Even better! I even thought that I could
make an introductory video.
I practiced smiles in the mirror.
I tried on different shirts with sleeves, buttons,
no buttons, stripes...
Heck, even cologne!

And then…

“I” crept up too much.
I mean the actual thought “I”… “me”…”myself”…
This is not what I want to convey today.
This is not a proper introduction to you my friends.
Who “I am”… is not always about me.
And today…

It’s about all of YOU.

You are the stars in my galaxy of dreams.

Each of you has played a fundamental roll
in showing me the possibility of what life
could really be like. That myself and my
family could live an even more amazing
lifestyle beyond what we currently are.
I thought I thought was the pinnacle of my life.
I see know that there is so much more
out there to accomplish!

The biggest thanks I can give each you right now
my friends, is this…

A very public acknowledgment to YOU as
my very first post here at ILN.

I truly believe that all of you will realize this
gesture and I hope that you know I am deeply
and sincerely thankful for this opportunity
to blog along side of you.

To better myself, my relationships, and my
lifestyle is a gift and I want to make it a PRIORITY
to share this avenue for anyone and everyone.

Vincent Ortega Jr… You sir, are like the airport
beacon piercing through an ink black, stormy night.
I've been low on fuel, exhausted, and circling for
that one special light to guide my aircraft and
my crew back to the safety of the ground.
Your integrity, leadership, and transparency
are highly coveted and admirable qualities.

Clifton Hatfield… Clifton, you definitely are
the engineer of the family. I’m thrilled we have
a man of your incredible skill at the helm.
Not only to keep this huge machine running
but you seem to be able to be in five places at once.
Personally, I think secretly you’re some kind of super hero!

Ashley Hatfield… The artist! The talent!
Every blogger here knows your niche and
you have the talent for bringing each of our
personalities to our blog and letting
the whole world get a feel for who we are.

Rhonda Swan… Again, right from day one
you played a huge role in me being here today.
Huge! I watched you and Vincent Sipping and Rippln,
and so full of energy outside the mansion in Vegas,
and your amazing and unforgettable video story
(My wife was in tears!). OK, we both were.
You just have this combined quality of
a highly professional business woman and
at the same time off the charts contagious energy.
Don’t ever loose that personality!

I have to give a big shout out to Yonatan Aguilar…
My invite to Rippln! Honestly, this is where it all began
and without Yonatan I don’t think I would have
ever discovered this family. Thanks brother.
I bet you've seen some crazy action in my ripple of late huh!?

And to everyone else that has written kind words,
encouraged me, and shared your wisdom with me…

Moku Correa
Jerry Maurer
Heather E Martens
Edward V. Aguilar
Brenda Gagne
and Eng Joo Kho

…just to name a few.

I tip my hat you each and every one of you.

I hope one day I can meet all of you
and thank you in person for
everything that you have brought to my life,
my wife’s, and my daughters.

In the military we acknowledge great efforts
and sacrifice with a “Bravo Zulu”.

And you all of you…

I say Bravo Zulu!

Now… to figure out this AWeber… UGH!
I loooooove a good challenge but I really
need to get down there and get some one on one
training!

Respectfully,

Steve Barnes

Writing Down a Eureka Moment…

Today I awoke, bobbed out of bed, and peered through the curtain crack. With one eye open I looked up the street, swiveled my head, and down the street. I took in the morning view of the quiet outside and thought… how can I make the most out of when I see in front of me today? The sun already up and pigeons scratching on the roof above me. Then it dawned on me, like one of those eureka moments that come only at times like this.

I’m hungry.

Having just started to promote the whole Rippln thing only one week ago, it sits there in the back of my mind, all the time. We ate breakfast, poured out coffees, and went to sit out the front porch and soak up some much needed vitamin D and fresh air. The munchkin wanted her bicycle out for the first time this spring and I was happy to have an excuse to pick up a ratchet, some oil, and a rag. Even if it was only to tighten one squeaky brake leaver, put the tire bead back onto the rim, and raise the seat a half inch. Oh… I felt like I was overhauling some multiple turbine mechanical beast from a southern American tractor pull. Tools make me feel this way. But, little did I know I could feel powerful holding a single jumbo Crayola sidewalk chalk.

Here’s how that played out…

While the wobbly stunts woman was riding her bike she had already managed to little the driveway with her collection of what I call her “outside sideshow trunk of tools”. A kid who likes to blow soap bubbles doesn't have to do it while mastering the one handed cartwheel. But mine does. Also, most eight year olds don’t feel the need to hold 4 jumbo Crayola sidewalk chalks in-between their toes (2 on each foot) and run up and down the driveway leaving scary looking spiral graph type artwork. But mine does. And what a brilliant thing to have witnessed today.

I was sipping my morning coffee and watching a video on the iPad of ways to promote websites online. All the while watching a young Adele Astaire/Picasso, I saw passer-byers take notice of the interpretive dance and resulting scribbles. I got the notion that some people where trying to read the rainbow streaks and make words of them. I thought oh great, in her efforts to promote her sideshow grammar dance routine she’s gone and mistakenly written a foul word by shear accident. I scoured over the freeway of lines using to make sense of it. I spent a lot of time trying to find the meaning behind sidewalk chalk on the driveway.

Eureka…

Sidewalk chalk… on the driveway… and every person walking by looking right at it. Hmmmm…

I bolted from my chair, grabbed some twine, a nail, a car battery, and a handful of jumbo sidewalk chalk. I began to quarden off the last 1/3 of the driveway, closest to the sidewalk, and claimed the space as my own. Untouchable to all but me. I used the car battery as a weight, the nail taped to the battery as a pivot point, and 6 feet of twine (tied to a stick of chalk). I put the chalk to the driveway and paced out a perfect circle. Then another smaller circle inside the first one.

(O)

Success!

I could feel the stares from people both driving and walking by. And I was giggling like a madman the whole time. My wife is looking on, embarrassed to be on the outside of the hose with me. The munchkin more instructional than inquisitive. She knows chalk! When the chalk dust settled, the driveway was left adorned by a new colorful promotional logo for…

www.rotationelevation.com

Now, this part is when I realized my eureka moment had been proven effective. Before I was even finished the outline of the letters, I had a passer-byer inquire about our homes new driveway logo and mention they were on their way back home to check it out. Simply because it was such a unique and obscure idea. A mid-morning doodle later and the final product is below.

Creative inspiring designs by Steve. A great way to spend the morning with the family, outside, being proactive. And all the while maybe reaching a personal goal just a little bit sooner.

We’ll see…

Come visit www.rotationelevation.com 

I had received a couple of emails during my deployment last year, and following my return, asking me how I came to sink my trade in the Navy as a Naval Weapons Technician NWT and take-off (he-he-he) over to the Air Force to try out for Pilot. Yes, I like to capitalize Pilot but only when being used as a professional title. Otherwise it’s… just pilot. Four… five sentences and I've used pilot three… now four times? Almost makes you wonder why someone would want the task, and profession attribute, of having to blurt out their job title every couple of sentences.

I feel filthy!

Anyway, like the old saying goes “You can take the man out of the Navy, but you can’t take the Navy out of the man”. Therefore, I have the repetitive challenge every morning of putting on my flight suit and looking at myself with disgust while at the same time turning sideways, glancing back, and giving the thumbs-up/sparkly tooth smile.

I now feel filthier for having told you that!

So the message to today…

In an attempt to help out those inquisitive friends, and future inquirers, I am going to paste as article I wrote (sure did). This was written last summer, while deployed, in response to a few individuals who requested my method of career change, how it all started, and the process I went through to wind up aircrew.

Now, I’m a charismatic guy, as most will attest to, who likes a personal touch (stop it) on everything I associated with. If you deal with me you know I’m a genuine fellow and would bend you over backwards (oops, there’s that Navy side again), bend myself over backwards for you (nope, still Navy there). I would go to good length to help anyone out that needed it. So, this article will reside here on the net, long after I’m gone, to answer the questions of how I was inspired to challenge myself, leave the comfort of an outstanding trade, and try something new. Perhaps een give someone that extra push they need to take a chance in life.

I did.

Hey stick around, it’s not that dry. Where are you going…??

June 7, 2012

From killick to captain

By Captain Steve Barnes

“Be careful what you ask for in life, because you just might get it.”

These were the words, now so true, that Petty Officer 2nd Class Norm Carmichael offered me as I put pen to paper. The memo I was about to sign was asking me to end my nine-year career as a naval weapons technician (NWT) and request a re-muster to the Royal Canadian Air Force. The plan: to become a CH-124 Sea King pilot, return to the east coast, and land on the very flight-deck(s) I had become so familiar with over my many years at sea.

After completing my NWT training earlier in my career, I was immediately sent to Her Majesty’s Canadian Ship Iroquois to deploy on Operation Apollo following the attacks of September 11. It was shortly thereafter I began to mull over the idea of a career change. My academic training as an NWT was now complete; I felt I had something more within my skill set to offer the military. I was highly motivated to find a new challenge that would further my scholastic credentials but also keep me in a “hands on” occupation. I found the path to that challenge in the university training program for non-commissioned members (UTPNCM). Now, I just had to find the challenge.

In reality, it found me, and in the most unlikely place and time.

It was during an early morning transit through the Suez Canal when a lanky and cheerful Sea King pilot, now-Major Andy Haddow, accidently kicked my coffee cup off one of the ship’s bollards, over the side, and straight to the bottom of the canal.

I can still clearly recall the pose he struck that resulted in the loss of that coffee cup. One foot on the bollard, both hands locked firmly on the hips, chest out, and peering off into the horizon as if to read tomorrow’s weather.

I stood there, brow raised and thought for a brief moment that he looked the part of some colorful super hero, all dressed in blue, with countless zippers, and bright yellow patches affixed everywhere. Perhaps it was my long face, watching the cup sink out of sight, which prompted his offer.

“Oh, I’m sorry buddy. Hey, how would you like to come for up for a flight in the Sea King and be a pilot for a day?” I paused briefly, thought how I would just rather have my coffee cup back, but instead replied, “Sure, I can do that.”

Following that single Sea King flight, the seed was planted and I had indisputably locked horns with the challenge.

Approval for my re-muster came shortly following my return home. Soon after, I attended night classes at Mount Saint Vincent University in Halifax and then left for my initial assessment at St. Jean, Que.

Once accepted, I began the next phase of training which was primary flight training in Portage La Prairie, Man. I remember my very first flight instructor, Eric “Speedy” Fast. Speedy had been a Snowbird; naturally, his favourite obsession was aerobatics.

Phase II was basic flight training at the Canadian Forces Flight Training School in Moose Jaw, Sask., where I received the bulk of my pilot training. There was a massive leap from the spindly Slingsby Fire Fly to the brawny Harvard II.

The biggest challenge during my year-long stretch of training was not flying the aircraft but my age. Compared to the average “youngster” straight out of university, I was “the old guy”. However, my age was also my greatest advantage. I believe that had I attempted the pilot program when I initially joined the military I would not be here today. The UTPNCM program afforded me the opportunity to take advantage of my maturity and my developed skills.

Upon completion of Phase II, I was selected to fly helicopters. So far, the plan was holding up. Next, back to Portage for Phase III to learn to hover. While some people learn to hover quickly, others take much longer in comparison. What is considered longer? About four minutes.

Following flying the Harvard II, the mystery of staying aloft is gone; your hands and feet have been proven and you have the skills to get in and out of busy airports, perform flying manoeuvres, and fly formation at two hundred knots within six feet of one another. But this hovering thing is pure, fantastic magic. Never have I slipped across the asphalt, floating at four feet, on what felt an awful lot like a calm water bed. Of course, my first hover felt more like sea state six.

Having tamed the once wobbly Bell Jet Ranger, I then moved up to the much larger Outlaw (a Griffon helicopter that has been retired from operational duty and modified for training). Now it all came down to learning a completely new aircraft, becoming familiar with working as a crew and raising all the bars to a winged pilot standard.

At long last, with the final check ride complete, came our wings graduation. For me, this was the pinnacle achievement for which I had strived eight long, unforgettable years. My goal was at last realized when I received the word that I would indeed be posted back to the east coast to fly the Sea King .

Finally, after completing Phase IV on the Sea King in November 2011, I was posted to 423 Maritime Helicopter Squadron, 12 Wing Shearwater, N.S. Three days later I was posted to HMCS Charlottetown and returned to sea once again after nine years of dry feet. I have since regained my sea legs and spread my wings.

Currently, I am still aboard HMCS Charlottetown deployed with Combined Task Force 150, which has an area of operation that spans more than two million square miles, covering the Red Sea, Gulf of Aden, Indian Ocean and Gulf of Oman.

The flying is more dynamic than anything I have experienced and the challenges are non-stop. Now, with my pose practiced, zippers up and patches adorned, I’m off to kick some unsuspecting person’s cup over the side.

Thank you to my friends, my instructors and staff and my family for all of your support and encouragement. Without all of you I would be reading this, instead of writing it!

Well, there you have it, nine long years in a nutshell. I took a chance back then and I’m still taking chances today. If there’s one I will continue to do is accept challenges, set, and reach goals. I’ve got a few I’m working on right now. I will always strive to take that next step just a little further and just a little faster.

Go, reach…step…sprint.

I will never forget the tough days. The challenges I put myself through and the effort it took to over come them all were merely setting me up for today. I've never backed out of a challenge and I’m not about to start now.   

Today is a challenge,

and I wouldn't want it any other way.

Further… faster I go )))

You can read more at www.rotationelevation.com 

How to Camp… with cake!

Yup… what?

‘sniff’

EEEeewwwwww!!

It’s the morning before I get my little munchkin back from a week long pause from loony land, as I like to call our happy home when she’s here with me. She shares her time one week with us and one week with her Dad and such is the world we live in today. I can only assume. So while sipping my morning java and watching the sun… no… the fog come up, and in anticipation of her coming home today, I thought I would watch some family videos that we took. One particular clip has my coffee now running down my shirt collar, finely dotted across my laptop screen, and more than enough on the center of my keyboard that I’m hopping it holds up until I’m finished typing!

A picture is worth a thousand words, right? Well, this one has to be worth a whole lot more I must say. This one in particular is from a camping trip we took two summer ago (almost three now) when she had turned only seven years old. I will do my best to attach some photos to this blog to help illustrate what I’m about to tell you.

Now, I loved going camping as a young boy. Thought it was a whole new world when you stepped out of the van, into the silent, woodsy scented territory. The summer heat crackling in the trees. Unseen insects making new sounds. The faint murmur of other campers setting up their site.

‘Sniff’ ‘sniff’

Ask my parents however, and will tell you otherwise about my love of camping. Yet, when I look back I remember juicy, crispy corn-on-the-cobb roasted over a campfire the size of a volcano (in fact I think one was). You know, the kind where the longer the tree branch you use to skewer your corn, wiener, or marshmallow the more eyebrow/eyelashes you would have when you got back in the van to leave. I can picture the hundreds of multi-coloured bubbles we would blow. The size of small cars wobbling, warping, and shifting places through the air. I also slightly recall how that soapy solution actually un-waterproofs a tent. Hmmmmm? Oh and then it was that exciting, un-annoying chirps of the morning crickets and the first early morning creep from the tent to find the always “fresh, tidy, and inviting” campground poopy-shack. Best relief of the day! It seemed all so inviting in the back of my mind. At least, that’s how I sold the idea of camping to my wife and daughter.

So let me set a few things straight here right off the bat. As some of you may not know, my wife and I were the best of friends for almost twelve years before we finally got married in 2011. And while Clara is not my biological daughter, she most certainly has my attitude, perseverance (insistence?), and over-the-top flare for the dramatic so she simply has to be “part mine”… in some fashion! So on this particular camping trip we were still only “friends” however I had finally decided to pop the big question and ask her to go on an official date with me. With us spending so much time together we were certain that Clara already knew what was up. With a seven year old, who knew me best as “Uncle Steve”, I also knew that I had to play this one very, very carefully. If I wanted the transition from being the funny, silly Uncle that visits Mom everyday, to something more permanent, I would have to incorporate Clara into this dating game plan.

So one morning, while driving her to school, I quietly slipped into the conversation what she thought about me asking her Mom out on an “official” date. We were already chatting about how she liked to spend time with me, that I was ALWAYS around, and I was telling her that I really liked Mom lots and her too of course. After a brief pause, and me thinking that it was not the best idea to pitch this on the way to school, she shifted in her seat a little and get this... to my complete and utter surprise she asked me if we could make it a party… and what kind of cake we were going to have. “Uuuuhhhh what’s that?” I chirped. I looked back in the rear-view mirror to find her un-surprised, watching the neighborhood houses flick by, and drawing a shaky smiley face (again) on the inside of my window with fingertip and moist breath. “We have to have a cake. It’s like a celebration.” She said eyes wide open, mouth curled up on both sides, and looking way too excited for 8am. I knew right there that I might as well be taking the two of them on this date… that was apparently going to be a celebration… with a cake.

Before the week was up I decided that I would introduce the ladies to camping. And, during this camping trip I would ask Mireille, with Clara’s help of course, out on an official date.  Of course this was no ordinary camping trip because it will be a camping/party/with cake camping trip. I let Clara pick out the cake… she choose an ice-cream cake… and you know where what one’s going. Now, I won’t go into great detail about the prep work and execution of how we took an ice-cream cake from DQ camping but I will say this. Going camping, out in the woods, with and ice-cream cake, with a seven year old, and trying to keep it a surprise is a feat all in itself.

I loved that Clara was on board to help me, she helped decorate the cake, and I think we wrote something to the effect of “Will you go ouy with me” across the top in alternating colored icing. I know that the “T” and the “Y” on a keyboard are side-by-side and you are imagining that that was a typo. It wasn't  How we managed a typo, with icing on a cake, is still a mystery to me. Here’s the best part. On the cake are a dolphin and a killer whale. Now, I’ll leave all sorts of doors wide open for you to think upon that one but I will tell you that in the dolphins defense  it has been documented that they are not always the victim of the killer whale and in fact have been known to fight back to the killer whales demise. Hey, the pickings were slim at DQ, the choice was a kids, and I will just leave it at that.

Of course the camping trip it self, the whole getting everything in the car undetected, an extra cooler that no-one as allowed to open, the entire thing is a whole other story. But the cake, well that’s the real story today. How do two and a half people eat an entire ice-cream cake, in the woods anyway? You can’t let good ice-cream cake go to waste, right? After both Clara and I pulled off the greatest proposal ever to Mom for a date, we both dove into our celebration ice-cream cake while Mom watched on and laughed at the two of us. We were so relieved to find it still fully frozen and everything perfectly intact. She popped off the clear dome lid, and there was our brightly colored “Will you go ouy with me” cake. The dolphin and the whale both looking like there were playing with one another, dancing in the ocean. Really, the all know the whale was probably about to fling the dolphin fifteen feet out of the water, breach the surface at top speed, and swallow it whole. Just as we were about to do!

After eating as much of the cake as we could she popped the dome back on and returned it to the cooler. I figured it might even last till the end of the weekend if we were careful not to leave the cooler open for long periods. The cooler said something like “Ice guaranteed to last five days” on the stickers still plastered to both sides. That’s a bold statement, but the reason I bought that particular cooler. Anyway, I think we may have gone back later that evening to carve off another small sliver each. Even then, there was still just over half of the cake remaining. “It can wait… for breakfast!” I whispered to Clara. Following a short night of sleep, the sun sure comes up earlier when you’re sleeping in a tent, Clara and I both sauntered out to greet the quiet morning. With Mom still sleeping we both crept over to the cooler to sneak a yummy slice of celebration cake for breakfast as I had promised. She got out two plastic forks, napkins, and two small wax-coated plates as I opened the cooler lid. I closed the cooler lid. I looked and Clara and she smiled, let out a he-he-he. Little thing knew exactly what I was about to pull out of the cooler!

Since a picture is worth a thousand words, I’ll let these ones say it all. I will close in saying that we swapped forks for spoons, used that clear plastic dome to its full potential and suggest that if you ever want to take an ice-cream cake camping… make it yourself… and freeze it in a bowl!

Come see more at www.rotationelevation.com 

A morning journey to the bus-stop

So… there I was… waiting at the bus stop this morning, with my eight year old, and she’s humming the chorus to Journey “Don’t stop believing”. (I was wondering why it was stuck in my mind right now). We stood there, otherwise quiet, while the sun slowly cracked over the horizon and watched the morning birds’ swoop and scoop up worms. Still sleepy eyed and tired we shivered a little, smiled at the odd car that passed by, and peered down the road to see the familiar site of the bright yellow school bus come bending around the corner. Still humming along, I joined her quietly matching her note for note. Quietly at first and then a little louder during the parts we both knew best.

I think the crescendo of our humming scared the birds off. We were shaking out hips and kicking our feet to the beat the best we could muster at 7am. As our energy continued to build with the slow accent of the sun, we found ourselves shaking and grooving and singing out loud. We were bellowing out the chorus (she’s got quite a voice for a munchkin) and the odd passer by would smile and shake their heads. We’re not relatively well known in the “newish” neighborhood we have recently moved into. But we are certainly making a name for our selves this morning!

In no time we are both jumping and singing, spinning in circles, and it looks like a first attempt at a zero-gravity square-dance! But… we are having fun. A silver car pulls up to the corner across from us (perpendicular to the street we are standing on) and waits for the full stop. He’s waiting a long time and I’m feeling exposed in my new found dancing shoes!! Low and behold the window rolls down and as the car rounds the corner, off to work no doubt, the window rolls down and both driver and passenger holler out the first half of the chorus before they are down the road (No doubt singing the rest).

My little one and I looked and each other, still bouncing off the sidewalk, half singing half laughing. She had a sparkle in her eye from the sun shine now creeping between the tree tops that I love to see. I fell so tall right then and didn't feel like I had cancer at all. Nothing will bring me back to earth today. This was a god bus stop morning.

Tomorrow is Saturday. For the first time in a long time… I wish it was a bus stop day. But Monday is only two days away. (The good in the Bad)

And yes… the bus did come. The driver found us leaned back on our heels, still laughing and shaking our heads. With wet cheeks, out of breath, and still giggle she clambered up the three tall black rubbery steps and plopped into her seat. She blew me a kiss through the tinted window and everything, for that split second, was perfect. And while the bus driver and the kids on the bus missed the gong show today, I have no doubt they will hear about it on the way to school. I’m certain this will become part of our morning routine while waiting for the bus. Now, to make up a morning playlist of bus stop songs. It’s too early in our efforts but perhaps Monday we can get two or more cars to stop and join us in a catchy morning musical.

So there is my first “real” entry into my blog of life. I will fill more of the “about me” page in to help localize your thoughts on why I write and what I write about!

How are you starting your day today? 

Check out Lots more at www.rotationelevation.com