long time, no post; as usual … here’s what went down last Saturday …I went out looking for a video recommended by a friend. (I’ll get to that later, but mmm Amelie you just may trump Katie) On my way home I thought I saw a plane crash near my house. I went to investigate (think Michael Knight and Kit) and it turned out to be an antique air show at Wings Field. (Apparently dive-bombing pseudo Axis troops is fun on the weekends) I got to talking to this girl there who lives in my complex and out of nowhere she offered me a ride in an airplane. Felling all spontaneous after confirming some silly silly trip to Paris, I accept. A few minutes later I found myself in the cockpit of a Cessna taxi-ing towards the runway. Now the last time I was up in a small aircraft was when I was about 10 years old and flew over Niagara Falls in a helicopter. That pretty much dashed all my dreams of becoming a helicopter pilot. Me and sudden changes in altitude don’t mix very well. But I digress … we’re now on the runway and picking up speed. This sensation is all cool to me cause it feels like my car post red light. (first gear, 6000 rpm if I had to pinpoint it) Then the plane leaves the ground. Go figure. Right about that time I think to myself “maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” What if the engine fails? What if we run out of gas? What if the landing gear doesn’t work? What if we encounter hurricane force winds? What if we crash? I wonder if my company’s Blue Cross / Blue Shield health insurance covers me 1,000 in the air (hey, it doesn’t if I step across the border to Canada). These thoughts pass through my head and all I can think of is that no one took my name or info. They’d have to sift through my charred remains to identify my body and contact my family. Again, silly me thinks that mustering the courage to goto Paris by myself also gives me the right to hop in an airplane with a total stranger.Alas, (yes, I know I misused that word, but people do it in films all the time) … Alas, we didn’t crash. The landing was semi-traumatic though. I asked the pilot about his first solo landing and he replies “yeah, I was nervous as hell so I try to make them nice and smooth for passengers”. FYI: My landing was neither nice nor smooth. It was more like “oh shit, we’re going to hit the ground at 120 mph.” The whole situation was exasperated by the multitude of alarms and buzzers going off during the landing. (Me being the hero and survivor that I am was just about to take the controls … I’ve played Nintendo’s Top Gun enough times to land a Cessna let alone an F-14 on the deck of an aircraft carrier) All I want to know is who’s bright idea was it to spook the pilot whilst descending at 9.8 m/s with flashing lights and “Danger Will Robinson” type sounds. Thankfully we touched down (more than once … think bounce, bounce, bounce, land) in one complete hunk of aluminum.Will I ever fly again, you ask? Of course I have to fly to France. At least I have the solace that the f***ing terrorists are now targeting flights out of Canada and Mexico and not trans-atlantic. (In case you didn’t catch the sarcasm, I’m pissed off at anyone that dare jeopardize my life) I’m just wondering how stepping on that plane will compare to my trip to Boston last year … I literally watched Tom Brokaw inform the nation that the CIA had uncovered plans that terrorists were planning on blowing up rail lines from DC to Boston on the day I was traveling. (Thanks Tom, I assure you I didn’t spend a minute thinking about my immanent doom on that trip)So all’s well in love and air traffic control. Hopefully my upcoming trans-atlantic flight will go just as well.