Day 84 - Lloyd Goes To An Air Park

I strolled out of the hangar into the sunlight. Well, no, I strutted, really. It's amazing how music can alter your mood, and subsequently, your actions and mannerisms. The big dog likes classic rock, and he keeps the stereo system in the hangar at what I would definitely consider to be an acceptable level. The radio station out of Birmingham plays GREAT music, and this was no exception. As if on cue, when I picked up my flight bag and set off toward the aircraft, the unmistakable intro to "Start Me Up" by The Rolling Stones began to play. I'm not typically a huge Stones fan, but it's not a bad song. Plus it has the significance of being the intro song to the Blue Angels routine. It has played during their walk-out and start-up procedures for God knows how long, or at least as long as I can remember. I reminded Ryan of this fact as I walked out onto the ramp, where he was washing his car.
"Ya know, Ryan, since this is the start-up theme for the Blue Angels, I think it's only fitting that we reenact that. As such, I think you should go meet me and Danny at the airplane and salute."
So Ryan, being the good friend and loyal brother pilot that he is, immediately did as I asked and offered a salute. Granted he only used one finger in the salute, but hey, what can ya do?

That was Friday; a gorgeous day to fly. Today was vastly different. Today's weather was polar opposite to Friday's, but I loved it. I'm one of the nutcases that enjoys flying in actual IMC. Translation: Ya can't see nothin'! It's great experience, plus it's strangely peaceful. You're alone, inside a cloud. It's like there's no world beyond the cockpit. A strange, false sense of security is projected upon you. It's almost like you can just go hide for a while.
Our adventure today took us on a top-secret mission for Dan and the boss, and as part of the mission I made my first visit to what is commonly called an "air park." The term defines an unholy marriage between an upscale subdivision and a private airport. It's like any typical community of homes; the only difference is that instead of cars in garages, there are airplanes in hangars. Taxiways replace roads, and a grass landing strip takes the place of tennis courts and swimming pools as social center of the plantation.
It was an intriguing place, to be sure. I didn't know what was more out-of-place in the scene; the hold-short lines painted on the end of each residential driveway, or our Buick Regal flight crew courtesy car as it rambled along the "taxiway" of the subdivision. It was so interesting to see how these people live, from residents that have RV-8s parked in their garage, to the fellow we met who skydives into his front yard. Seriously. He jumps out of his airplane and lands in his front yard, much like some people would play badminton on that same patch of grass. I mean come on, who does that? I don't know, but it must be nice. Well, by that I mean that it must be nice to live in an air park. The notion of jumping out of a perfectly good airplane is not nice, it's just plum stupid.

The progress report since last we spoke is basically unremarkable. I apologize for the silence, but there's really not much to say. We've flown fairly regularly, and I feel pretty good about this stage. I'm still reasonably concerned about the next phase: cross country. The theory is that they build flight time and perform crew training while sending two pilots within the program hopping around the country for one to two weeks. As we have discussed on more than one occasion, the prevailing attitude and social climate among my peers tends to nauseate me, but I suppose I can survive anything for a few weeks. I just wish it would happen and conclude so that I can get on with life. The "hurry up and wait" mentality is killing me.

Well campers, that's the update for the day. I'll try to be more frequent about my posting, and I apologize for growing complacent over the past week. Aside from me having to push the golf cart back to the hangar, and various gems of wisdom from Dennis, our own on-site Redneck Yoda, it's sorta been boring around here. I hope to fly with Ed tomorrow, and our adventures are usually noteworthy, so maybe between that excursion, and my own inherent insanity, we'll have something good to talk about tomorrow night. Cross your fingers.


See ya then.

Joey