Orion Drones

Exiting Falcon P&O

I let the business account for the 4-year-old website lose subscription funding. There are QR codes and links scattered all over the internets rendered useless when the “aircraft and fine art” domain finally passes from my hands. It came down to this question: Did I want to research paint, or aeronautics, or both? Aeronautics won the day. I was reminded of the longevity of the project as I cleaned out my car this weekend.

I found a QR code I enlarged an laminated. This code linked to the front page of the website. I was going to code direct links to pages or elements within pages on the website, but I set that aside to look for work a long, long time ago. I found another I made for a real estate inspection job. I found old mobile camera mounts for my car and bicycle, other reminders of the journey. Here was a fluorescent yellow drone pilot vest, there, tucked away, a spare lightning cable. Knowing when to replace a drone or a car or a business is a question of value.

Is there a more attractive opportunity when compared to other options? Yes, through simplification. By what method is that comparison made? Profits = $0 for 2020. How does this deviation from the optimal path fare inside the arena against other regional competitors? Unknown. Did FP&O affect the marketplace? No. Do people like arts and crafts? Yes, the small ones and the wise ones, few though they may seem to be in numbers. Did I learn anything? Absolutely.

Gear Test

Hyperlapse

I decided to leave the drones at home when I went to the beach. It came down to space. We, my family, rented a car. It was small. It was so small. We had not been to the beach in four years, so salient it seemed to commemorate the rise and fall of FP&O with a trip to the ocean, the abode of the tears of our ancestors, the sweat of our descendants. To the sea with ye!

I had scouted places to fly. There were a couple of state parks, some recreational areas nearby, and plenty of empty beachfront scenery. The wind was light, a gift, really, and the weather held, alas.

Wheels

My car died. It was on its last legs with nearly 200K miles on it. I enjoyed the challenging maintenance tasks, the intimacy with the systems under the hood, but the potholes here remain hungry, and icy roads a test of control arms and ball joints. The underside had rusted out. The AC broke years ago, much to my wife’s dismay. I was going for 200K, but the maintenance record told me I was heading for a reoccurring expensive repair cycle, and I figured rather than spend the down payment for a car on an old heap, I should put the money into something that would last for a while, so, I chose to get my go-go juice from the banana stand, because there was always money in the banana stand.

Having reliable gear is like having money in the banana stand. So, why would I let FP&O burn to the ground? Because I did not realize it was a banana stand? It was most definitely not performing like a banana stand. I have seen so many small businesses shuttered due to the pandemic. I painted one place like mine, a “laundromat/bar”. You could have a pint while the machines cleaned your clothes. Closed. A frankenbusiness like mine, a laughing flower in an unknown field. Closed.

The idea was to sell paintings to fund the drone business. It did not work. Honestly, I painted for pleasure, and I was seldom motivated to part with my works. So, it was time to remove the quick from the dead. I have a hard time parting with my paintings, and an even harder time parting with an old car, so imagine leaving a persona behind, an image of a person drawing a drone through the skies like details on the end of a brush moving with the practice and ease of the tip of a symphony conductor’s wand. Woosh!