It is the best of times, it is the worst of times. It is moments of sheer monotony and boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror. In other words: I am my own hero. I saved the life of both myself and a particular student no less than four times today. "How?" might you ask, and I know that you are. Well, even experienced students sometimes do things that we just can't comprehend. It's just something you have to accept in the world of aviation education. One poorly executed stall and suddenly the world is above and in front of the airplane instead of behind and below like it should be. Ignoring the urge to turn to my left and shout, "WHAT THE F&#K ARE YOU DOING???!!!" I instead stare straight ahead, because only the right side of my face is sweating, just like I trained it to do, and manage to calmly ask, "So... do you know what you did wrong... and do you know how to fix it?" The student's brain then kicks into high gear, also the gear that I like to refer to as "survival gear," diagnoses the situation with a quickness and initiates a proper recovery... Nice job, please don't kill me.
Long hours, little pay, little time for school... hell, little actual attendance of school. I guess eRIc and I have that in common. Anywhom, after a long day of having students drop me onto the ground from heights almost approaching dangerous, I had to get out and do some real flying on my own. I flew into Pawnee. A great airport that sits just north of a lake, just south of a forest, just east of a hill, and just west of a golf course. Oh, and it's really short and grass. It's a real "aerodrome" if you will... oh, and I will.
I need a chocolate banana shake and sax player,
Jeff C.
P.S. Democrats suck.
