Large Fierce Mammal

On 30 September 1907, the Aerial Experiment Association was signed into existence at Halifax, Nova Scotia for the purpose of, “…carrying on experiments relating to aerial locomotion….” Signatories to the Association’s Charter were Alexander Graham Bell, G. H. (Glen) Curtiss, F. W. (Casey) Baldwin , J. A. Douglas McCurdy, and Thomas Selfridge. Pictured above are the charter members (photo courtesy of the Alexander Graham Bell National Historic Site of Canada.) They were on a mission to bring the “F” word to Canada, and as everybody knows, the “F” stands for “Flight“.

A powerful player in the inception and ongoing operation of the AEA was Bell’s wife, Mabel Hubbard Bell, (right) who both suggested the forming of the group and, being independently wealthy herself, financed its activities.

It is safe to say that without the backing of a good woman, Canada’s entrance into the world of flight would have been significantly delayed. The forming of the AEA brought some phenomenal talents together in the same place to share ideas and work toward a common goal.

Most of the AEA’s experirments were based out of the Bell family estate of Beinn Bhreagh (pronounced “Ben BRAY-ah” meaning “beautiful mountain” in Gaelic) near Baddeck, Nova Scotia.

Pictured at left (from “Trial by Flyer” by Frank Wicks), and from left to right, are Casey Baldwin, J.A.D. McCurdy, Glenn Curtiss, Alexander Graham Bell, Lt. Tom Selfridge, and aviation pioneer Augustus Post. Note the crutches. Flying in those days, to say the least, had its risks.

In the course of its operations, the AEA built and tested five “aerodromes” as Bell called them:
– Aerodrome 1, “Red Wing” (1908)
– Aerodrome 2, “White Wing” (1908)
– Aerodrome 3, “June Bug” (1908)
– Aerodrome 4, “Silver Dart” (1909) pictured below right
– Aerodrome 5, “Cygnet” (1912)

On February 23, 1909, the Silver Dart piloted by J.A.D. McCurdy lifted off from a frozen inlet on Bras d’Or Lake at Baddeck, Nova Scotia, and flew a half mile ending in a controlled descent to a successful landing. The event marked the first flight of a heavier-than-air machine in Canada as well as in the British Empire. (Photo below left courtesy of the Alexander Graham Bell National Historic Site of Canada).

After 300 flights, by which time the aircraft had more than amply been proven in its ability to remain aloft, manoeuvre, and land, Silver Dart was demonstrated to the Canadian Army. Due to pressure to fly in unfavourable conditions, the show ended badly so, notoriously leary of new fangled inventions, and doubtful of the future usefulness of such contraptions, the Army declined its adoption at the time.

The Canadian military has since changed its mind, and we’ve come a long way since Silver Dart.

Wearing both military and civilian hats, aviation has been a crucial tool in making it possible to forge a nation out of the expanse of sparsely populated and varied landscape called Canada.

As this series progresses, I will be presenting images of historically significant real world aircraft as well as virtual ones wearing liveries I have created to commemorate the centennial of powered flight in Canada. Using the applications “Microsoft Flight Simulator 2004”, “X-Plane” by Laminar Research, and virtual aircraft developed by, and credited to, others, all paint schemes and logos that are to follow, unless stated otherwise, are my original work, are covered by copyright, and no reproduction, modification, or distribution is authorized without my express written consent.

With the legalities over with, stand by for some historically motivated eye candy. Many additions will be made as work progresses through this project, so keep an eye out.

Anybody who reads what I write knows by now that I have an intense interest in aviation that I cultivate through the virtual world of Microsoft Flight Simulator, reading the trade journals, and going to airshows as often as possible. Yes, there was a time when I sat at the controls of the real thing, but that expensive passtime is … well … past.

Today it was announced that the previously homeless Nova Scotia International Air Show is no longer homeless, and will be hosted this year at the Yarmouth airport on 12 and 13 September 2009. A good thing too because 2009 marks the centennial year of the birth of powered flight in Canada. For the next few posts I’ll be running off at the keyboard on the subject, and showcasing my own commemorative efforts.

What you see at left is a picture I created from Microsoft Flight Simulator 2004 of a Vickers Vanguard turboprop airliner in the livery of Trans-Canada Air Lines. The aircraft and its paint scheme are the work of the inimitable Rick Piper. Click on the picture for a better view.

Formed by Canadian National Railways in 1937, Trans-Canada Air Lines (TCA) was Canada’s first national air carrier, becoming Air Canada in 1964 from an act of Parliament proposed by Jean Chrétien.

One of the fastest turboprop aircraft ever to fly, the British designed and built Vanguard was ordered by TCA and British European Airways (BEA) with a total of 43 being built.

So why the Vanguard is of significance to me is threefold.

To start, it was the first aircraft I ever flew in while outside my mother’s womb.

Secondly, the flight in question occurred in the summer of 1961 when, at the age of four, I traveled with my mother to Montreal to meet my maternal grandmother for the first time.

Thirdly, the cabin of a Vickers Vanguard was the first place I fell in love. Oh, I was young, t’is true, and she was much older, but the yearnings were no less powerful. I remember I was wearing a tie in the colours of the Royal Stewart Tartan, a gift from my maternal grandmother who was both British and a staunch monarchist. I also remember that my tie attracted the attention of an incredibly beautiful flight attendant with raven hair and a Scottish accent that was to die for.

As it turned out she was a Stewart who, even after it was established that I wasn’t one myself, nevertheless lavished me with her attentions throughout the flight, and gifted me with a small toy model of the Vanguard as we parted.

I was thoroughly smitten dear readers, truly I was.

Let it be known that with the blessings of one of the founding fathers of the organization, he now known by the nom de guerre of “Fluffatron”, I in my capacity as Large Fierce Mammal, and further empowered by the fact that I have recently wedded a notorious pirate, have taken it upon myself to resurrect, replenish, resuscitate, and in every other manner breath life back into the august society known and feared throughout the land as the Zut Alors Piracy Society. More will be revealed as my dark agenda unfolds.

Followers of this blog will be pleased to learn that the Large Fierce Mammal and his Beautiful Mate were married this past Hallowe’en resulting in much merry making and little energy for posting here. An article of monumental interest is in the offing concerning issues relating to our union that will undoubtedly soothe the impatience and desperation you have all been experiencing during this temporary blog famine.
Photo by Tammy Zinck. Photo manipulation by Jessica Scott.

I feel her pain. Really I do.

In an article written by Hilary White posted to LifeSiteNews.com on 15 August 2008 titled “Westminster Exorcist Says Promiscuity can Lead to Demonic Possession“, 73 year-old Father Jeremy Davies is quoted as saying that, “Promiscuity, as well as homosexuality and pornography … is a form of sexual perversion and can lead to demonic possession … Among the causes of homosexuality is a contagious demonic factor.”

It should be noted that Father Davies is a priest of Westminster, the leading diocese of the Catholic Church of England and Wales, a qualified exorcist, and co-founder of the International Association of Exorcists. If you’re inclined to check that out as a career path, you may also want to read “So You Want to Perform an Exorcism: Here Is What it Takes” for more on the subject.

Father Davies goes on to say, “The thin end of the wedge (soft drugs, yoga for relaxation, horoscopes just for fun and so on) is more dangerous than the thick end because it is more deceptive – an evil spirit tries to make his entry as unobtrusively as possible.”

The article states that, “In 2000, Father Davies told the Independent newspaper that incidents of demonic possession are rising dramatically along with the increase of New Age beliefs and practices, ignorance of the Bible and a growth in spiritual confusion.”

Reading the article, and speaking as one who is not now nor ever will be Catholic, is not ignorant of the Bible, and is as far from spiritually confused as you can get, I couldn’t help but notice that Father Davies made no reference to the well documented evils that all too commonly can result from the protracted practice of sexual abstinence by sanctimonious authority figures. I’m guessing that was just an oversight and he’ll be addressing that issue presently.

In my first year of university I shared what was supposed to be a double room with two other guys, the inimitable Michael Gilbert Baker, presently of Nova Scotia Government fame, and a Monctonian named Bruce Andrew Hudson. Bruce’s major was computer science but, in the thoughtless exuberance that so often characterizes the decisions of freshmen everywhere, he thought it would be a good idea to take an elective course in “Scientific German”. Fortunately for Bruce it was only a half course.

As part of his final exam, Bruce was required to write a brief composition to demonstrate his newfound competence. The subject: What I do when I get up in the morning.

I was sitting in our mutual room when Bruce triumphantly returned bearing his exam paper with its exemplary mark of 50% and an enigmatic red scrawl from his professor that read, “It’s been very entertaining Bruce. Good luck.” He immediately sat down at his desk and set to work with his trusty German-English dictionary saying, “I can’t wait to see what I wrote!”

As the minutes passed, the scratching of his pen was joined by soft snickers. Snickers became guffaws that soon escalated to hysterics. Finally, collapsed on his desk unable to speak, Bruce extended one arm in my direction bearing the translated document that described, in English, what he did when he got up in the morning:

“I get up and wake up the teeth and hair.
I jump for the face.
I brush the comb with the brush, then I comb and bend for school.
I breath the knee and the upper part of the body touches.”

Now that’s entertainment.

What’s all this about not talking on the phone while driving? Why is it necessary to even tell people that? When I first got into business in 1983 I used to welcome the relaxation of actually getting OUT of the office and away from the phones. People left messages. Shit still got done.

I carry around a look, even when I’m not in uniform. I pull up to a stop sign and at least one person in the vicinity will be nearly dislocating a shoulder trying to fasten their seat belt while faking that they’re really just stretching. I drive down the highway and regularly see people pretending that the cel phone sandwiched between their hand and their ear is actually just them leaning against the door while they talk to themselves and there’s really no phone involved.

Let’s all band together to discover and practice a new technique: let the bastard ring. Use designated ring tones so you can instantly ID family members (the ones who may actually have a right to instant access) and the doctor who may be calling if your STD tests come back positive. Let everything else go to voice mail.

Too important to stay off the phone? Try being too important to be bothered by it just now. You might like it.

My ham gets attacked so soon after leaving the oven that it never gets a chance to be photographed. This is stock footage from the internet.

Thanksgiving approaches, we’re having guests in, and Diana has ordered my famous ham as the main event. I am pleased to comply.

Real men know how to cook, especially meat dishes. No offense to the TRUE vegetarians and vegans out there. Those people have chosen their path based on sincerely held personal belief. As an unrepentant carnivore I can certainly respect that motivation. But how about those who profess to be veggie but come back from the market with “tofurkey”, veggie weiners, or soy-burger? These people cloak themselves in the faux morality wherein the lion lays down with the lamb, and yet crave the taste and feel of REAL flesh between their teeth. Pretty fucked up don’t you think? I’ve always seen this as more than a little unfaithful. A lot like making love to your wife while imagining that she’s somebody else.

Back in my university days, a friend who should have known better decided to don the mantle of anti-carnivory and began to criticize my choices whenever we dined out together. During this time, I began ordering my food in more descriptive terms, for example, ordering a steak became, “I would dearly love a segment of muscle tissue from the corpse of an immature castrated bull please … medium if it’s not too much trouble. Thank you.” This approach, combined with its associated witty repartee, actually succeeded in getting me laid twice, though I should hasten to add that neither time was with the friend I was lampooning.

Now I know some of you will say that there are poor souls out there who can’t eat real meat for medical reasons and compensate by faking it and to you I’ll say that I am fully sympathetic with those people. My criticisms here aren’t aimed at them. As I always say, they won’t be offended because they know who they are. I will even go so far as to admit that there are valid reasons to include fake meats as ingredients in recipes as a means of reducing the fat content. Diana makes a kick-ass breakfast pizza to feed our overnight guests that includes fake breakfast sausages. The faux sausage tastes great in this presentation, and the whole thing has only a fraction of the fat real sausage would add. We also include pan fried tofu in our Asian menus, but we never pretend it’s anything other than what it is.

This is the first in my series of “Recipes Guaranteed to Get You Laid”. Each one has been personally tried and tested REPEATEDLY to prove its efficacy in all areas of performance claimed. Not surprisingly, most include some sort of meat as a primary ingredient, and each is written from a MAN’s perspective. I believe that there is nothing more primal and sensual than acquiring, preparing, and sharing good food and drink with your mate. If you aren’t prepared to tackle this without cutting corners, or lean toward slacking on the times I tell you to do things, then you aren’t worthy and the woman or man you’re after is wasting their time.

This recipe contains an ingredient that, in some countries at some points in history, was restricted for consumption only by those of royal blood. I’m speaking of pork, and more specifically, of ham.

Dessert, that sweet jolt after the main event, is a relatively modern invention. Glazed meat dishes are a legacy of medieval cooking that routinely included sweet coatings, marinades, sauces, and glazes in their preparation. No sweet dessert need apply. So, without further preamble, here is …

Baked Ham With Marmalade Mustard Glaze.

This recipe uses the concept of cooking ham in combination of wine and fruit juice or meat stock. I recommend that unless your ham is incredibly small (you with the small hams ALSO know who you are so you should leave now because NOTHING will get you laid), you maintain the recommended amount of liquid and glaze. Trust me, like closet space, it never goes to waste.

Ingedients
Uncooked or fully cooked ham sized to feed your gang UP TO a maximum of 8 pounds (3.6 kg), although if your pig is that big the pig isn’t ON the table, if you know what I mean.
1 cup Taylor “Late Bottle Vintage” Port (cheap and flavourful)
2 cups orange juice

GLAZE
1/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/4 cup Shirriff “Good Morning” orange, lemon, and grapefruit marmalade (the original recipe calls for orange marmalade but remember, I’m trying to get you laid here)
2 Tbsp grainy Dijon mustard (the original says grainy OR Dijon, but listen to me here)
1 tsp low sodium soy sauce

PREPARATION:
The Glaze-
In a small bowl, combine sugar, marmalade, mustard, and soy sauce. Set aside.

The Ham-
For a “cook before eating” ham, score the fat with a sharp knife to form squares or diamonds no larger than 1 inch square. Leave the cloves in the cupboard or I will take one of your fingers as a trophy. Place ham in the roasting pan fat side up.

For a “fully cooked” ham, slice vertically into the ham to a depth of 50% its total diameter to form the 1 inch squares. In this case, place the ham in the roaster with the cuts facing up.

In a saucepan, bring the wine and orange juice to a simmer then pour OVER the ham.

Bake in a 325ºF (160ºC) oven, basting liberally at 30 minute intervals. Do this for 1.5 hours for a fully cooked ham OR 2 to 2.25 hours for a “cook before eating” ham (depending on size).

After the last basting, wait 10-15 minutes and then brush on the first third of the glaze, being sure to coat the surface and get right down in the cuts that should be wide open and longing for attention right now. Reapply the glaze every 15 minutes until gone (the glaze, not you). Continue to cook until internal temperature is 130ºF (55ºC) for a ready to eat ham, or 160ºF (70ºC) for a cook before eating ham. Keep an eye though in case things are getting done too soon as can happen when your ham is … um … small. Remove the ham from the oven to rest at least 10 minutes before slicing. By now, the smell alone should get you laid so the time required won’t be an issue.

Now remember gang, these are guidelines. Actual measures required to work on your significant other are open to tweaking as required. We do maintain 24 hour tech support to help you through the rough spots but the phone may not be answered if we’re … cooking.

Enjoy, and I’d like some feedback so don’t forget where your Guru lives.

When the weather sucks, and you can avoid driving in it, it’s always better to just stay home and have fun.

Winter approaches. This week we jumped the gun and had our primary ride serviced for the big freeze. Yes, even the snow tires are on. The Large Fierce Mammal and his mate gotta stay mobile!

I’ve been driving automobiles since 1974 and in all those years I’ve spent more than a few hours behind the wheel in conditions that, given a choice, would have prompted me to say, “Um, if it’s all the same to you I’d rather not old boy.” I pay close attention to vehicle maintenance, I’m highly trained, skilled, careful, and have reasons to live so I take no unnecessary chances. Yet over the years I’ve slid off the road in slow motion once, 360’d in the roadway twice – once in a heavy summer rain and the other in slow motion coming out of a stop sign at an intersection – neither time was there any oncoming traffic, I had preparatory control of the direction my center of gravity was travelling prior to the skid permitting calm action while the controls were ineffective so as not to make the situation worse, and I ended up parked perfectly by the side of the road without damage, bestiality, or unsportsmanlike conduct.

Wait! There’s more! I once had the right front wheel of my car come off at 80 km/h ten minutes after leaving a garage that had just replaced my front brake pads, and had the engine of my car torn off its mounts and thrown into the road by an asshole driving in excess of 80 kilometers per hour in a 50 km/h zone in a quiet residential area inside the town of Bridgewater because he was late (again) picking up his girlfriend (he was driving her car) from vocational school. That last one was a close call but The Gods were clearly saving me for greater things. Two feet to the right and I wouldn’t be writing this.

The asshole previously referred to also walked away unscathed, which he probably wouldn’t have if he’d been in sight when the full scope of what he’d almost done filled my mind about six hours later. Over the years I’ve come to forgive him and contented myself with putting a spell on his penis that, as they say, “may have certain sexual side effects”. You know when they say those words that the effects aren’t anything you would want. You get the picture.

But I digress. Back in the last century I was driving my Ford Explorer the 100 kilometers home to Lunenburg from Halifax on Highway 103 in weather that had deteriorated throughout the day. Conditions were heavy fog, HEAVY rain that the windshield wipers couldn’t keep clear more than a few inches behind each swipe, and winds gusting to at least 80 Km/h. What is generally called a “shitstorm”. On top of all that, it was dark and standing water on the road was obliterating the center line for long distances making it necessary to navigate using the white shoulder line.

As I tooled along at between 40 and 60 Km/h depending on visibility, on a road that was mainly populated by big rigs headed east, I caught up to a small car driven by a tiny hunched figure that became visible every time he/she was silhouetted in the lights of approaching trucks.

The conditions made it impossible to pass with any expectation of safety so I was constrained to stay where I was. As time and kilometers passed, I became aware of an unfortunate tendency of the “auto-gnome” I’d now become entangled with; specifically, whenever a vehicle approached head on, she/he would wander into its path like a moth to a flame, only yanking back again at the last moment. Obviously this person was out of his or her depth.

I stayed behind the mystery car all the way to exit 11 where I was overjoyed to see the other car was exiting too. He turned left and proceeded all the way to Lunenburg so I was stuck with him the entire time. By now though, I was morbidly interested in keeping an eye on whoever this was because they were clearly more than a little outclassed by the weather.

At the time, my office housed the dispatch centre for the Lunenburg-Mahone Bay Police Service. When I got back, I immediately ran the plate and quickly found that it came back as registered to a very elderly Lunenburg resident. Filling out an occurrence sheet with the vehicle information and all the hair raising details, I faxed it to the local RCMP detachment. It wasn’t long before the duty member called back to tell me the interesting news.

The driver involved was on his way back from a mandatory retest at the Halifax motor vehicle branch in the wake of numerous complaints about his driving habits. He had passed the test.