In A Flying Funk
By ANN Associate Editor Rob Finfrock
Among my group of friends in the Outside World -- a dark
place, away from the airport, my instructors, and Aero-News -- I am
the only one who currently flies an airplane.
That statement has a certain amount of cachet, if only because
to many flight is a completely foreign concept. When I began this
endeavor (a perfect word to describe flight... there's a reason a
space shuttle is named as such) those friends would listen with
interest to my tales of slow flight, crab angles and the joys of a
full-stall landing. They listened attentively, though not
nearly as wide-eyed as the storyteller.
They asked questions, and shared in my enthusiasm. It was new,
it was exciting, and yes, it had something of an appeal to women,
too. There is, after all, no machine extant that is as sexy as a
C172 (sorry Jim, but the Glasair runs a very close
second.)
Partly due to the passage of time, interest among the
non-aviation Muggles has waned. That's understandable. Lately,
however, I find myself being increasingly asked to explain and
comment on -- even justify -- items in the news, stories that paint
my hobby and passion in a less than flattering light.
"Did you hear about the drunk teenager that stole a plane?" one
asked recently. Yes, I did... and while I could throttle that
little punk for committing such an asinine act, I also admit some
envy at the fact that he landed that plane successfully (albeit
only once out of two attempts) with no formal flight training. It
took me 10 hours to accomplish the same.
"What do you think of those guys who buzzed the Capitol?"
another friend asks. She is referring, of course, to Jim Sheaffer
and Troy Martin, the gentlemen who disorientedly flew ("blundered,"
in the words of one news organization) a Cessna 150 over Washington
DC, back in May. She is a good friend, but there was an accusatory
tone in her question.
I could argue semantics with her -- they hardly "buzzed" the
city -- and I could try to explain the evils of reactionary and
unnecessary TFRs and No-Fly Zones. Or perhaps I could show her the
Klyde Morris cartoon I have taped to my computer monitor,
explaining the consequences should someone get the wild idea to use
a light plane as a Kamikaze-style weapon: "A little pile of Cessna
on an unscratched nuclear plant."
Instead, I find myself meekly replying, "they shouldn't have
been there." Simple, plain, and correct, but a tired response borne
of sheer and utter resignation, as well.
With every crash reported in the news, comes a new round of
questions. I was asked "will that happen if the plane I'm on lands
during a thunderstorm?" after the Toronto A340 incident. Curiously
enough, I was asked this during a thunderstorm, a common occurrence
this time of year in Dallas. Our office building is under the
flight path for Love Field, and at the moment a Southwest 737 was
flying overhead, heading towards certain disaster on 31L.
My response to my friend was "I'll bet my logbook, my car, and
everything in my wallet, that that plane will land just fine... as
do 99.999999 percent of airplanes everywhere." Needless to say, he
did not collect.
My boss (again, in the Outside World) often tells me of how
miffed he gets when planes from the local airport -- the same one I
fly from -- fly over his house. "Can't they fly over somewhere
else?" he has asked me.
He lives several miles from the airport, on what would be a very
extended downwind. At that point, any airplanes flying overhead are
at least 1500 feet above the ground. I fear that he is one of
those who call to complain to the airport -- or worse, to
city hall -- about the noise.
To people outside the world of aviation, all of these questions
are perfectly valid, and I don't mean to discount them. After all,
how many peoples' only definitions of the world of flight have been
formed by experiences with cramped flights into LAX, or the latest
incident reported on CBS? Everyone reading this knows very
well that flying, and especially general aviation, has taken a
pounding of late... a sad trend that shows little sign of
waning.
As was noted and celebrated on this very site, this past Friday
was National Aviation Day. It was the day for the pilot community
to stand tall, and encourage others to take part in and support the
general aviation community. It was one day for us to do what
programs like Be-A-Pilot, as well as organizations such as AOPA, do
everyday. God love them for it, too.
I said before, flying
is my passion. I cannot describe the feeling I get from taking a
Skyhawk around the pattern, or even watching as others do the same.
I should be the exact person to stand up on such a day, and tell
others that at the very least they should get out to their local
airports, $49 coupon in hand, and take a demo flight, because they
might just like it. They may even love it, and realize they can't
quite live without being able to experience that feeling again, and
again...
Instead, though, I sat quietly, and I'm kicking myself for it
now. There will be other opportunities for me to make up for it, of
course -- why should there be only one Aviation Day? Somehow,
though, I can't quite shake the feeling that the Outside World is
very actively against us.
A prescient message sent in Friday by ANN reader Richard Musser
of Mojave Valley (AZ) sums up perfectly this funk that I'm
feeling.
"Ain't that the way, "Todays The Day" followed by seven
TFRs."
Help.