And here I'd thought you said you were just waiting 'till the SLI was over before indulging the recreational flying challenge? 😉 Seriously though; "But, I'm still breathing" fully works for me as evidence of a rational perspective. NONE of this past decade's internecine insanity reflects at all well on even our species in general, much less supposedly "intelligent pilots". I've sometimes wondered just exactly WHAT sorts of supposed "Pilots" could be so incredibly childish as to EVER, by actual intention, place their "fates"/seniority/whatever in the hands of others, instead of sanely working things out within their own community....No matter now, I suppose. Oh well. Turns out that earlier youth experiences provided a better template for the whole "Pilot" thing than I'd imagined through athletic endeavors: At most 5-8% of whomever shows up for any tournament are actually worth a damn at any level. I'd long fantasized much better within the aviation community, but no longer can.
"Miles will fly by as we discuss all this bullshiit."...? Not-so-much and no worries there. The cockpit's no place for rancorous nonsense of any kind. It's not mathematically likely that we'll ever share a cockpit, but should that happen; you would be greeted with a proper handshake and well...I say we fly safe and just have as much fun as a given trip allows. Recreation/beverages/etc on me.
I agree.
Just don't let that handshake be like your buddy Parker.
I had the privilege to shake his hand as he exited an airplane I had crewed almost a decade ago which ironically was from Phx to Dfw.
He did his usual at the time, a seat in coach, which I found very impressive.
He had me, seated in coach, if you will...
Loved it. He was different.
I stood at the doorway of that cockpit with such enthusiasm, eagerly anticipating my leaders acknowledgement as he passed by to the jetway.
I saw him and immediately said, Hey Doug! Thanks for flying with us! Simultaneously extending my hand to shake his.
He smiled and extended what I would describe as a limp fish, no, not that, more like a sardine, a weak, tragically under exceptional, big handful of flesh with nothing but squishiness and a hint of, just let me go and speak nothing of this interaction.
Total confusion for a guy like me, that just shook the hand of our duly appointed leader.
I had grown up with the guidance to know that a mans handshake was his life signature, a sign of his soul. A sign of his character.
Funny stuff.
So here we are.
The guilty thing I was referencing was simply the DFR, that little something a very familiar appellate court found wrong with the east Union behavior.
