Hey Life, your life is not on the line 24/7, so pardon my slight jumpiness after a thoroughly rotten Christmas weekend. As I tell the "T.O." youth, "Don't grow up to be homeless!" (Or stuck at LaGuardia). "Snow, snow, beautiful snow," said Howard Hughes financed 3 Stooge Curly, to which Moe asked, "Did you write that?" "No!," said Curly, "I shoveled it!" What am I shoveling? Begins with an "s" spies, and ends with "it."
Despite what I just heard out of Boston atc, we proceed with the humor. "What did he hear?" "What did he hear?" cry the automatons. Alright:
PILOT: "I've got to take a look at this wing."
TOWER: "Go back and look."
Ouch! All of that time, and the guy next to you has on yucky after shave? Barf bags are available on the taxiway as well, I'd imagine.
I would never try to discourage air travel, but the fact is, I sent a United States Postal Service (USPS) letter to the Airline Pilots Association asking them to consider some type of "job action" to help me break out as "The Aviator's" grandson. I think the letter fell into the hands of not the real U.S. Government, but those not-dreaded-by-me Watergate Spooks. So, there has been no disruptive strike, and I use discretion. Would I post something like this before you got home safely from seeing grandma & grandpa for Christmas?
We now go to the skies over the Atlantic Ocean near New York City approximately 3:15 p.m. est on Christmas Eve.
PILOT: "Who is this widebody to my right? Who is he?"
TOWER: "It's an Airbus 320."
PILOT: "Who is this at one o'clock?"
TOWER: "You're to follow and maintain separation."
PILOT: "I see 'em! I see 'em!"
Yeeha! And now, "Line up and wait" is an icy "Go back and look."
I'm not sure I'd like that, but first I have to get out of accursed Cali-fornia.