What's Up - May 2014

May Day, Actually Everyday This Month Is May Day

By Larry Shapiro

When you think about it, you May do anything you want but with that privilege comes the responsibility of doing just that.

When you’re a student pilot you need to get permission or approval for almost every flight you are about to take.  Someone else has to say okay before you jump off into the blue stuff.  I only mention this because I made a decision last month that if I had asked someone, I would have been told, “Aaaaaaah, Lar, not a good idea.”

But I didn’t ask anyone so off I went into a beautiful sun setting sky. During the entire 50-minute flight from SAC to PAO I kept asking myself if I should have stayed tied down and found another way home or just stayed where I was.

I’ll admit talking to myself isn’t uncommon for me or anyone else my age for that matter.  Of course I am now committed to telling you why I’m boring you with this saga, and since I’ve already spent more than 100 words telling this tale, here’s the rest of the story.

I had a small boating accident involving me falling off a boat into the murky Sacramento River.  It wasn’t a little boat, it was a very big boat, and I fell from the top of the boat onto the dock and not just over the side of a small dingy.  The only thing that was dingy was yours truly.

Had I fallen into the river getting wet would have been the damage, but the dock was cement and I made a three-point landing.  I did see a few stars and the pain was at least an eight on a scale of one to 10. The boat was just coming in but no one noticed me in my prone position on the dock. and if they did they would have just thought I was taking my nap a little later than usual.

Jumping ahead about an hour or so and on the way back to my airplane, I started noticing my legs were not happy with me and the bump on my head hadn’t gone down much – and now to the point of this babble.  As I climbed into my airplane I asked myself, “Okay Shapiro, are you okay enough to fly or should you call it a day?”  Ya see what I mean? I had to make a grown-up decision since there was no one else to ask.  I know what the rules say, but I wasn’t in the mood to read them.

So one bottle of water later I made the decision that it was a short flight and one I’ve done for more than 50 years, so, I lit the fire and 40-plus minutes later I was tying down at PAO.  In retrospect, I am willing to admit I might not have made the right decision, but a lesson was learned: Don’t fall off of big boats.

So! Was there really a lesson learned here?  Yep, there sure was, as I was faced with another go or no-go decision just a week or so later.  The night before this intended flight the WX was looking somewhat nasty, and leaving a day earlier wasn’t possible to do, so in the very early morning of the intended day the WX didn’t even look good enough to drive in.

My friends with more flexibility chose to book a seat on a “crowd killer” and did just that.  At O’dark thirty I cranked up the family van and off I went on the first 500 miles of a 1,000-mile trip.

To make things worse, I could see the runway at the intended destination airport from my pre-booked hotel, which was done on the premise I would be landing across the street.  At the end of the day, I must admit I made the right decision and the only decision that could be made as I had a rigid unchangeable time to arrive.

Not that it matters, but the decision saved me about $400 – not having to buy a lot of AV Gas and rent a car. One more thing – being with my best friend made the trip even nicer and I didn’t have to be abused by some of the controllers in SoCal that never seem to like me.  Would I do this again? No!

On a more serious note …

By now some of you know the story about the flying machines that bumped into each other over San Francisco Bay.  I don’t want to say much about this, as there can’t be a happy ending, but I know the owner of both of the airplanes involved.  How it happened or why it happened could be an all day discussion.  I’m going to revisit this story next month. I have my own take on what I think happened, even though I was 336 miles to the south at the time.

First my wife looked at me and said, “Your phone is going to start ringing.” I stared at her and said, “Really?  And may I ask why you know this?”  She responded by telling me that two airplanes ran into each other and one’s in the San Francisco Bay somewhere.  I should mention she watches the news on all of her little electronic toys.  She knows when this kind of thing occurs it seems like everyone calls me to ask what happened.  Since one of the airplanes was a 210 – yes, I fly a 210 – some folks immediately think it must be me since I have the only 210 in the world.My condolences go out to the families.

Hey! How About Some Oldies But Goodies?

I need to take a break from the story above and this will help.  When my phone rings and the voice on the other end sounds like it’s someone I should call “Sir,” and they speak in terms of 1930 and I speak in terms of 1950 … well, you get the idea.  So this very senior member of the UFOs, (I’ll give you a few lines to figure out what that means) starts off by asking, “Are you the Shapiro that writes for In Flight USA?”  First I blush, and then respond with, “If you’re going to sue me then the answer is no.  If you have candy or flowers for me, then the answer is yes.”  (I’m pausing for the laughter. Okay so don’t laugh, but it was worth a try.)  By now I’ve established that he flies a 1965 V-Tail, to be exact, and does his own annuals, plus he has a current medical, and he’s going to be 90 by the time you read this paragraph.

I’m not sure how you are reacting to this tidbit, but I think it’s hot and it sure makes my day.  Have you figured out what the UFOs are I mentioned earlier?  I only know three members of this group and they are amazing no matter which way you look at them.  They are the United Flying Octogenarians.  Wow, I spelled it right!  That means you have to be between 80 and 90 years of age to join.  WOW, there is still hope for me. 

I suppose you might want to know why he called me, actually if you don’t want to know I’m going to tell you anyway.  He wants to put together a trip with some of his friends and fly down to Mexico with me as part of my mentoring program of teaching pilots how to fly safely and easily south of our boarders, and especially down to La Paz. 

This group presents me with a whole bunch of issues I might not deal with on a regular basis, but for them I’ll move mountains.  I’ll need to plan shorter legs, and be aware of available medical support, plus, I really need a sense of humor. I can wait!  Finally a group I can possibly out run.

Okay, now it’s your turn; if you’re a UFO I’d like to hear from you.  If you want to become one, they’d like to hear from you.  And just to be sure, these words are written with love and respect.

Here’s a Trick Question

When is the noise of a B-17, a B-24, and a P-51 okay?  Answer:  When they fly over your wedding being held outside minutes away from the airport … somehow or another the words “I do” mixed with the sound of those engines just seemed to be okay with the multi-Ticketed groom and the many other pilots in attendance.  “Film at Eleven.” 

Chemistry

So now I pose this question: What part of buying an airplane does chemistry play – a little, a lot, or not at all? More on this topic next month.  But if you have some thoughts about this, I’m listening.

On Final

I usually make a fuss about May, and with good reason. I have a betrothal anniversary, mothers day, a daughter’s birthday, a son’s birthday, my Air Force anniversary, plus there’s that Cinco de something or other thing when we drink more tequila than we usually do, and I guess my medical being due is somewhat important, too.  I sure hope that covers it. Did I miss anything?  Oh yes, and I will be doing the smallest airshow I’ve ever done at the amazing Hiller Aviation Museum at SQL.  The venue is small, the airplanes are small, my compensation will be small, and the only thing that won’t be small is the fun we are going to have.

A Go Around!

I got the best call of my day yesterday. It was from a 13-year-old-young man that simply asked me this question: “If I buy an airplane from you, will you deliver it to me?”  I can’t tell you how much fun I had with him. He had great questions and a really well thought-out plan, plus his parents’ support and permission to call me.  You can be sure you’ll be hearing more about him next month.  Think about this: first an 89-year-old-young man and then another young man, age 13 … isn’t life grand?

Until next time …

That’s Thirty! 

“Over”