Burl Burlingame

Oscar Deuce: Wired

Burl — Thu, 09 Sep 2010 10:52:27 +0000

Hey look, the fuel tank gauge is still there! Got some work ahead of us on the instrument panel. Thanks to Nancy for the photo.
Some video:

Oscar Deuce: It’s Not Easy Being Green

Burl — Wed, 08 Sep 2010 10:42:30 +0000

Airplane nerds know exactly what color we’re looking at, above. It’s the standard American aircraft preservative called “zinc chromate.” The color is actually sort of an apple-green shade, and real zinc chromate refers for the chemical primer barriers it creates, not to any particular shade or color. Real zinc chromate is actually yellowish.
The interior of the O-2 appears to be primarily painted in the green zinc chromate color, although these areas are mostly covered with a quilted fabric sound blanket glued to the metal. Exposed metal areas are painted black.
The above picture was taken during a fruitless hunt in Oahu hardware stores for a spray-can color match for zinc chromate. Nothing came close. However, the museum does stock spray cans of the proper color, and it’s real zinc chromate, to boot.
After scraping and sanding and cleaning as much debris as possible from the cockpit walls, here’s trusty assistant Nancy Christenson, below, giving the port cockpit interior a fresh coat of primer. Close inspection of the various fittings show that they were originally painted as well, so everything gets a coat.
In the other picture, Nancy is attaching replacement round floor access panels looted from the other O-2s. Interestingly, no two screws appeared to be the same, some even being sheet-metal screws. While the panels were off, we vacuumed inside the accesses, and repainted the bottom side of the panels with zinc chromate.
The cockpit floor is zinc chromated, covered with a black, tar-like no-skid coating.
At this point, we’ve pretty much decided to go with an inexpensive reassembly of the airplane rather than a complete, ground-up restoration. Money, labor and time are factors; we got no money, there are just a couple of us, but we do have plenty of time. There’s no rush. And so we’ll clean it, paint it, reassemble it, and then give it an accurate paint scheme. It will be presentable and accurate, but not flyable, certainly not with some of the aluminum members showing fatigue cracks.
That huge bundle of wires next to Nancy is typical of the judgement calls we’ll face. Combat-ready O-2s had several hundred pounds of radio in the back, connected to the instrument panel by a giant umbilical of wires frapped in black rubber. The rubber has long since rotted away (actually, the rubber and plastic stuff on the plane are in the worst shape of any components) and the wires are a major pain. They’re also not connected to anything any more.
Keep them or not? I think we may pull them out and place the umbilical in storage …

Oscar Deuce: Airplane Triage

Burl — Wed, 08 Sep 2010 03:00:19 +0000

The picture above is of a 22nd TASS O-2A I photographed around 1971. These birds were new in the islands and of interest at Armed Forces Days. Note the yellow knockout framing around the pilot’s port window. The window enlargement that stretches up over the fuselage is one of the visual clues that differentiates a military O-2 from its civilian stablemate, the Cessna 337. Plus the hardpoints on the wings that hold bombs, rockets or gun pods!
This bird’s sisters are huddled together in a corner of the Pacific Aviation Museum’s Hangar 79. Our first task was figuring out which airframe was in the best shape. All had varying degrees of damage, and all are different from each other. Eventually we chose Plane #145, shown below. Even though there are big pieces missing, little of it seemed broken.
But before we could even move it, the nose wheel had to be replaced. The tire had gone flat over the years and couldn’t hold pressure. We swapped it out with an intact nose wheel from one of the other O-2s. John Sterling and Mel from the museum showed us how — the space was pretty tight, and the lifting point on the O-2 is a bump just aft of the nose gear — and trusty assistant Nancy Christenson wiggled in the muck and WD-40 puddles to knock out the gear-wheel axle retainers.
Once the O-2 was on three inflated tires, we pushed it over the restoration area of the hangar. Nancy and I spent the rest of the day cleaning it out, stashing the scattered screws and retainers and moving loose equipment out of the airframe. I couldn’t help myself and cleaned the windshield.
Here she is after the initial cleaning.

Oscar Deuce: Off We Go …

Burl — Tue, 07 Sep 2010 02:23:01 +0000

And for our next trick …
When I was a kid, Skymasters were a familiar sight and sound above Oahu. The 22nd Tactical Air Support Squadron operated them out of Wheeler Air Force Base after deployment from Vietnam. The militarized Cessnas were a pushme-pullyu design that had a unique sound — they had two engines in-line with each other, safer because the loss of an engine didn’t create asymmetric thrust — and high wings, allowing the pilot a terrific view. They worked as Forward Air Controller in Vietnam, flying low and slow in some of the most dangerous air on earth.
Here’s a capsule history of the 22nd TASS’s time in Hawaii, taken directly from a PACAF history:

The 22nd Tactical Air Support Squadron (Light) organized at Binh Thuy Airport, South Vietnam, on 8 May 1965. It provided aircrews in Vietnam to direct air strikes for tactical aircraft operating within the Tactical Air Control System (TACS). Visual reconnaissance, convoy escort, and other missions were conducted as directed by the Tactical Air Commander, and aircraft and maintenance were provided in support of these operations within IV Corps, Republic of Vietnam, as directed by Seventh Air Force. The squadron provided aircraft and personnel in support of the Theater Indoctrination School, and field and transient maintenance support of USAF aircraft at Binh Thuy Air Base. The 22nd operated the Cessna 0-1 Bird Dog aircraft, 1965-1971; and the Cessna 0-2 Skymaster, 1967-1971. Personnel and other resources of the 22nd were absorbed by the 19th Tactical Air Support Squadron on 15 Jan 1971, and the 22nd was unmanned and non-operational until it transferred W/O/P/E to Wheeler AFB, Hawaii, on 15 May 1971.
At Wheeler the 22nd, using the Cessna 0-2, organized, trained, and equipped assigned personnel to provide the Air Force Component Commander with a joint force, capable of operating and maintaining a tactical air support subsystem for ground forces requiring close air support, tactical air reconnaissance, and tactical airlift. The squadron also provided Direct Air Support Center and Tactical Air Control Party (TACP) personnel and equipment to support US Army units in Hawaii. During 1982, the 22nd participated in a number of exercises and prepared plans for conversion to the OV-10. Converted to the OV-10 aircraft, Aug-Oct 1983. Supported U.S. Army on the ground with TACP’s creating a network which provided the Army with immediate air support and, in the air, with OV-10 forward air control support. Participated in numerous exercises with US and allied army ground units throughout the Far East. Inactivated on 22 Dec 1988.

The official figure for military-built O-2As is 532 airframes delivered by 1970, with 178 lost in Vietnam. That’s a pretty high percentage, and reflects the little plane going into harm’s way more often than other planes.
A couple of dozen O-2Bs were built, identical except that they had big loudspeakers on board for propaganda purposes. There are apparently a couple of O-2As still flying at Laguna Army Airfield, more than four decades after they were built. They were also used by more than 16 different air forces, as well as some state fire department and Air Guard units.
A hard-working, decidely unglamorous little airplane.
I bring this up only because The Pacific Aviation Museum — Pearl Harbor has three trashed-out O-2s, and I’ve started a restoration effort. The three planes were given to a local aviation school sometime in the early ‘80s and, over the last 30 years, have been used and abused. Whole panels have been drilled out and ripped off, instruments have been pilfered, the planes are full of loose wires, greasy filth, wasp nests and dead critters. Oh boy!
“Oscar Deuce” will keep track of our restoration of an O-2. Stay tuned.

Sunday Matinee: Flying the Hole

Burl — Sun, 05 Sep 2010 10:16:21 +0000

Saturday Morning TV for Kids

Burl — Sat, 04 Sep 2010 13:26:28 +0000

Are You a Superhero?

Burl — Fri, 03 Sep 2010 02:46:58 +0000

Superheroes — do you have what it takes to become one? Or do superheroes have what it takes to become YOU? Superheroes are as different as can be, but they have certain characteristics in common. They come in as many flavors as there are Spandex colors.
What kind of superhero would you be?
The quiz below may help. Circle the number next to the answer that best decribes your response. Add up the numbers when you’re done — there’s no “high” or “low” score — and check the answers at the bottom to find out your super-score.

A — You come to a tall building and need to get around to the other side. You:

Look carefully to make sure no civilians will be injured as you jump over the building, and if anyone is inconvenienced, you apologize.
Jump over the building.
Jump over the building, acutely aware that people are watching you, and you’re both embarrassed and excited.
Wait until no one is looking, preferably at night, and jump over the building, pausing only to look into windows in case someone is doing something illegal or erotic.
Smash building!

B — You need some sort of superhero outfit. You:

Make lots of sketches, ask friends for advice, get your colors done by a professional, remember what looked good on your mom.
Use whatever’s available that won’t rip in a tussle and is easily cleaned.
Make it yourself and you’re convinced that all people notice are the mismatched seams.
Choose an outfit that’s dark, mysteriously detailed and draws attention to your slim waist and padded codpiece.
Go naked!

C — A situation arises where you’re tempted to use your powers for evil rather than good. You:

Refuse, and talk about it at length with friends during late-night phone calls.
Refuse.
Are really tempted, and eventually don’t do it, but you feel like a sucker. You wonder if you’re an idiot.
Know that whether you do it or not doesn’t matter, because no will ever know.
Score!

D — During a no-holds-barred brawl with evil-doers, you:

Search desperately for a way to restrain them without causing either short-term physical damage or long-term psychological damage.
Restrain them.
Get the snot pounded out of yourself before prevailing, and try to cover up with onlookers by making feeble wisecracks.
Efficiently beat the snot out of the bad guy, and if he gets hurt or killed in the process, well, too bad,
Pound them!

E — It’s necessary to have a secret identity, so you:

Dress as drably as possibly, hiding your physical attributes, but you still check yourself out in the mirror whenever possible.
Put on a pair of shades. Good enough.
Are convinced that everyone sees through your disguise, and are secretly laughing at you.
Keep your superhero outfit on under your disguise, and your hand keeps sneaking into your pocket to caress the Spandex stretched across your taut muscles.
Forget it!

F — Every superhero needs a sidekick, so you:

Choose a bright, young — albeit disadvantaged — person who needs guidance, and carefully explain your actions and feelings before and after each mission. Homework is assigned.
Choose someone who will fit into the suit when you retire.
Stay a loner, because a sidekick will see right through you to the phony underneath.
Choose someone who looks like you and doesn’t mind you dressing him in the mornings.
Shriek, “I don’t need no psychic!”

G — You’re desperately attracted to someone who doesn’t know you’re a superhero. You:

Keep a diary about your inner feelings and stare at the person moonily when they’re not looking.
Settle for someone who won’t explode when you kiss them.
Blurt it out at the worst possible moment and get your face slapped.
Install mirrors on the bedroom ceiling and lock yourself in the mansion with your sidekick.
Jump her!

SCORE

If your score adds up to 7 or close to it, you’re Wonder Woman.
If your score is 14 or close to it, you’re Superman.
If your score is 21 or close to it, you’re Spiderman.
If your score is 28 or close to it, you’re Batman.
If your score is 35 or close to it, you’re the Incredible Hulk, or on the Honolulu City Council.

Berry Berry Good to Me

Burl — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 05:48:50 +0000

The kids have never been the let’s-go-play-catch type of kids, although I still have my glove and a fairly scuffy hardball, and now the kids are all growed up, so that opportunity has passed. Still, I was kind of taken aback the other night when I was talking baseball with my youngest. It turned out she had played baseball once.
That’s right. One time. Same for her sister.
They were shown how to play baseball in PE class in high school, and for one glorious hour, actually allowed to swing, hit, catch and run. That’s it. Not even a whole game. Next class, some other sport.
But didn’t they play pick-up games with the other kids during recess? We’d do that. Get get to school a little early to loosen up for some fielding. Shag some pop flies. Then bolt down some lunch out of our lunch pails and hie out to the field for a couple of quick innings. Just for the fun of playing.
My kid looked at me like I was describing hunting mammoths. They were not allowed to bring equipment like bats and balls and gloves to school. And the school didn’t provide any except for the PE class exercise.
What about after school? You know, stickball. Sandlot games. Ride your bike down to the park, form ad-hoc teams and play until dark.
It turned out the parks are unavailable — they’re booked daily by Little League teams and amateurs aren’t welcome. There are no open fields elsewhere. Open areas are ringed by chain-link fences specifically to keep kids out. The school fields are locked down as well. You can’t play in the street, because the police are called by community associations to yell at the kids.
There are ways to play. We managed to play baseball almost anywhere. But there’s no urge among suburban kids to play ball unless it’s regimented and from the top down. And that’s a sure way to suck all the fun out of it. I played Little League ball, mostly warming benches, but it was nothing like the hustle it is today.
There’s nothing quite like the feeling of catching a difficult throw, feeling the ball thump into the glove, the slight sting of the impact. The tingling crack of a solid hit, watching the ball arc away as you dig in for first. My kids aren’t sorry they missed it, but I am.
I should mention, however, that I am a terrible baseball player. I may be the worst baseball player of all time. Here’s a clue: I tried out for the Radford High School baseball team my sophomore year, played with them for a week, and was then cut unceremoniously. The coach explained that they had a much better chance with only eight players than with me on the team.
Still, I loved playing, even as the kid picked last.
And, oh: Go Waipio!

Flashback File: My Grandparents’ Wedding Day

Burl — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 01:57:37 +0000

Hubert Stranathan and Grace Mason Burlingame, Jan. 14, 1923. My father was born 10 months later, followed by Uncle Bob. Alas, Grace died when my father was in his teens, and Hubert married her sister Mildred, and later there was a 1945 divorce caused by, apparently, the new wife becoming a Christian Scientist. Grandpa Hubert married Grandma Helen in 1949, who birthed Aunt Ann Lea thereafter.
Whew. Mostly, I’m struck here by how much Grandpa Hubert, as a young man, resembles my father.

Bleah!

Burl — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 19:30:31 +0000

This antibiotic I’m on — Clarithromycin — really kicks my okole. I wake up feeling like the worst hangover ever, and that’s after a night of vivid intense dreaming that, oddly (for dreams), have “plot” lines and dramatic construction. Last night’s involved a lovely, rather rustic mountaintop retreat, impressionable young ladies, lovely old friends, complicated architecture, extended evenings and — of all things — Lenny Kravitz playing “Purple Haze” at inappropriate times.
Let’s see, a description of possible side effects of Clarithromycin:

Most common side-effects are gastrointestinal: diarrhea, nausea, extreme irritability, abdominal pain and vomiting, facial swelling. Less common side-effects include headaches, dizziness/motion sickness, rashes, alteration in senses of smell and taste, including a metallic taste that lasts the entire time one takes it. Dry mouth, anxiety, hallucinations, and nightmares have also been reported. In more serious cases it has been known to cause jaundice, cirrhosis, and kidney problems including renal failure. Uneven heartbeats, chest pain, and shortness of breath have also been reported while taking this drug.
Clarithromycin may cause false positives on urine drug screens for cocaine.

I can absolutely vouch for the metallic taste.