Money

[Blackmac]

How HEPAC gets thier operating budget.

A young woman(Director of HEPAC) walked into the Bank of Canada one morning with a purse full of money.

She wanted to open a savings account and insisted on talking to the president of the Bank because, she said, she had a lot of money.

After many lengthy discussions (after all, the client is always right) an
employee took the young woman to the president's office.

The president of the Bank asked her how much she wanted to deposit.

She placed her purse on his desk and replied, "$165,000".

The president was curious and asked her how she had been able to save so much money.

The young woman replied that she made bets.

The president was surprised and asked, "What kind of bets?"

The young woman replied, "Well, I bet you $25,000 that your testicles are
square."

The president started to laugh and told the woman that it was impossible to
win a bet like that.

The woman never batted an eye. She just looked at the president and said,

"Would you like to take my bet?"

"Certainly", replied the president. "I bet you $25,000 that my testicles are
not square."

"Done", the young woman answered. "But given the amount of money
involved, if you don't mind I would like to come back at 10 o'clock tomorrow
morning with my lawyer as a witness."

"No problem", said the president of the Bank confidently.

That night, the president became very nervous about the bet and spent a long
time in front of the mirror examining his testicles, turning them this way
and that, checking them over again and again until he was positive that no
one could consider his testicles as square and reassuring himself that there was no way he could lose the bet.

The next morning at exactly 10 o'clock the young woman arrived at the
president's office with her lawyer and acknowledged the $25,000 bet made the day before that the president's testicles were square.

The president confirmed that the bet was the same as the one made the day
before.

Then the young woman asked him to drop his pants etc. so that she
and her lawyer could see clearly.

The president was happy to oblige.

The young woman came closer so she could see better and asked the
president if she could touch them.

"Of course", said the president. "Given the amount of money involved, you should be 100% sure."

The young woman did so with a little smile.

Suddenly the president noticed that the lawyer was banging his head against the wall.

He asked the young woman why he was doing that and she replied, "Oh, it's probably because I bet him $100,000 that around 10 o'clock in the morning I would be holding the balls of the President of the Bank of Canada!"

 

[Biggles]

 

[helicopper]

now THAT young lady's going places!!!

speaking of fundraising.... and with a mind to the reverend charlie whiskey's comments a few weeks back about being able to undoubtedly script an entire book about his many flying adventures over the years...

PERHAPS... those considerable numbers of you out there who have given some thought to joining the ranks of HEPAC (primarily with the intent of assisting in the ongoing development of the overall professionalism within our industry country-wide) would consider providing me with one (1) single story from your past helicopter adventures (ame and/or pilot perspective)... funny, sad, neither funny nor sad... whatever... keep it down to 3000 words or less... donate same to HEPAC and we'll publish the first bonafide canadian helicopter industry collection of stories of lessons learned, friendships made, tributes to absent companions, etc...

include a digital photo and short bio of the author...

whaddaya think?????

mulligan
hepac2

 

[Rosco]

Sounds like a good idea 5-OH, but the some of the stories could be incriminating to say the least.

Surely one could send a story but remain anonymous, right? :huh:

Could be a great read with something I'm sure to be learned by all.

Cheers

R

 

[helicopper]

absotively, rosco, me boyo!!!

being of the enforcement persuasion, i can certainly appreciate that the odd tale could potentially result in the occasional "fowl returning to the nest from whence it lefteth"... with that thought in mind, HEPAC will graciously accept any/all contributions of literary renown under any appropriate pseudonym... anonymously... rest assured that your tales of derring do will be enjoyed by many fellow aviation enthusiasts... the majority of which (sadly) never have the opportunities that many of us within this site both enjoy and take for granted on a daily basis... please seriously consider sharing them with the public... with the additional bonus of contributing in a very positive way in getting HEPAC off the ground!

here's a sample already provided from a scribbler by the name of "patrick o'malley" ...



‘Just These Three’

On the long weekend in May of 1996, I had the pleasure of piloting helicopter tours over Bracebridge, Ontario… the heart of Muskoka. I was hawkin’ rides lifting off the airport grass prior to the daily commencement of the Muskoka Airshow which had attracted thousands of aviation enthusiasts, old and young alike on a day described in pilot jargon as CAVU, an acronym for Ceiling and Visibility Unlimited… while in Muskokan terms… ‘It’s a beauty day, eh!!??’

Barnstorming is alive and well in the helicopter business, especially during the early days of summer, when most pilots are praying for hot, dry days with thunderstorms during the night. Ironically, a good fire season pays the bills for many households in this country.

The lineup of passengers for the helicopter eagerly awaiting their turn had dwindled as we neared the commencement of the airshow… a time at which all aircraft will cease flying to allow the professional aerial performers center stage all to themselves.

I sat parked with rotors spinning, my last group of four passengers scrambling away while bent over doubled in half under the twirling blades and hissing turbine with screams of delight and high fives all around as they ducked under the OPP crime scene tape cordoning off my landing site (thanks to my coffee shop friends in blue). I had time for one last eight minute ‘hop’ prior to the Muskoka airspace closing down. The thirty-something mother had been standing on the outside of my rudimentary, yellow fence for the last two or three trips, within earshot of the helicopter owner’s wife and daughter who were handling the finances associated with our barnstorming efforts. Her three young boys aged seven through twelve were close by, enjoying the sights and sounds of the rotorwash breeze filled with spent jet fuel and their own little, private airshow I was only too happy to provide them with in the most versatile aircraft man has yet to create. The youngest lad was constantly tugging on her macrame handbag in a determined effort to drag her over to our two cashiers and the opening in the yellow fence. The older two boys were never too far away, yet were apparently content with their dreams of what such a flight could possibly mean to them, seemingly appreciative of the fact that $25 per passenger would be a significant burden on their family… Dad was nowhere to be seen. The young lad persisted with the tenacity of a hundred hour helicopter pilot who once parked himself in the waiting room of a Prince Albert charter service for four days. The president of that charter got so tired of passing by him enroute to his receptionist, he hired him. This young lad has definite promise, I said to myself as I watched Mom dig into that hand-made bag and come out with a credit card that was undoubtedly as smooth-numbered as my own. The older two smelled a ‘kill’ and all eyes were on Mom when she yelled above the noise of the blades and waved them to follow her to the folding table where cash and credit cards were readily accepted and dreams became reality. I watched dumbfounded as Mom remained behind the tape as all three of her boys were escorted on board and buckled in with headsets allowing them to listen in on the constant radio chatter. ‘Just these three… then we gotta shut down!’ shouted the owner’s daughter as she buckled the successful salesman into the front seat beside me. ‘Just these three’… I smiled to myself. With a quick wave to Mom, we lifted off as gently as possible, bowed to the growing crowd and set off on a low-level tour to the northwest of the airport, well away from the last minute arrivals which were scrambling to land prior to the airspace being shutdown within the next ten minutes. ‘Just these three’ danced with me from meadow to pipeline to river to golf course at a ‘secret’ altitude that only us flyboys can ever discuss amongst ourselves.

Eight minutes later, with a fast approach, we flared to land back in front of a smiling Mom, clapping with glee at seeing the gaping, wide eyeballs of her now highly-experienced flyboys. I watched as even the oldest had a long hug for Mom and they disappeared into the crowd after a final wave to me as I shutdown for the beginning of the airshow.

Later that evening, I sat on my front porch with my wife, Pam (and mother of our three children), relating the sights and sounds of the airshow and told her the story of Mom and ‘Just these three’. She listened very quietly to my drunken rendition of this ‘scenic flight’… obviously curious as to why one of many eight minute ‘hops’ would be remarkable. With her knowing smile she put it all in perspective… ‘That woman has no idea of the size of the gift she gave you today, does she?’

‘Not a clue’, said I… ‘I held that woman’s entire world in the palm of my hands for eight minutes… I’ve never been paid a greater compliment… a gift I will never forget!’

 

[Guest]

Sapp, must by rum amd ryb, yib, rrrruib, night, eh?

Thaks

 

[skullcap]

oh, that last comment was from me, I's crying too hard to sign in properdy.

Serialously; that was nice.

sssscc

 

[helicopper]

guilty as charged... have been known to be a mushball on occasion... even shed a tear or two while watching "i am sam" & "radio" ...

that particular flight described above played a poignant role in significantly changing my attitude towards my responsibilities as pic...

HEPAC's goal is to improve your workplace and advocate professionalism within all aspects of the helicopter industry in our corner of the world...

so send me YOUR memorable story and we'll publish one fine collection for the benefit of the past, present & future helicopter "folk"...

we've ALL shed too many tears of late for co-workers who've left behind young families & loved ones...

mulligan
oppa/phpa/alea/hepac2