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| Blue Angels Air Show 7/24/10 by Stephen Lasley |
In 1975, I had a pen in my hand poised over the dotted line. I was seventeen, a senior in high school and had just scored 98 percentile on the ASVAB. They wanted me. Badly. Here was my chance to be a pilot.
Like Terry, the 'Fighter' part of pilot eluded me.
I 'inherited' my daddy's love for airplanes. He worked for Lockheed, in Marietta, Georgia, at the main base...please click over to WhackaDoodle Dandy to read the rest.
18 comments:
I'm new here...from Jemi's blog. *waves* Nice to meet you.
I think I was born to be a writer AND wild too. ;)
Have a great week,
Lola
Hi Lola, welcome! *waving back*
That must be a writer thing, yes?
~Olivia
Wonder where you/we would be if you hadn't asked that question...for a tiny bit, I lived near Langley. I used to stop working and watch the F16's play....man, they were cool. I, too, can recall characters, scenes, plots...better than my life sometimes. Books are loyal and unchanging...the perfect friend. I'm glad you found your one true calling.
Olivia,
I think you fly all the time. You just use words instead of a plane.
Giggles and Guns
Can I fly with words and a plane??
I LOVE helicopters *grin*
My Dad fixed planes and my husband's Dad was on the design team responsible for Concorde's nose.
I never wanted to fly them or to serve the tea but I wanted to get to all the places they could reach.
I appreciate your love of planes and flying but me....It takes a lot of medication just to buy a ticket.
WC, where would we be indeed? Considering all the wars we've been in between then and now I can guess a few.
Ooo, Mary, yes! Thank you for that!
Postman, you DO fly with words. Literally. That's one of the things I love about your blog, all those sexy airplanes! :)
~Olivia
Nicole, I love heli's too. Years ago I got to ride in a two-seater manned by a once-Vietnam pilot. I couldn't wipe the silly grin off my face. He flew me to three different construction sites for the Olympics in Atlanta.
Toward the end of our trip he asked me if I wanted to dive and I said YES! Omg, it was so much fun I asked him to do it again! He said most people turned green and wanted to throw up. Not me.
Thanks for letting me relive that experience. The grin is splitting my face in remembrance. :D
~Olivia
Elaine, my dad fixed them, too. He was a Flight Test Mechanic. Ooo, the Concorde!
Jules, awww. That's a bummer. But you do it 'cause you're a trooper, yes?
Hey, check it out. Great post! Yeah you writers are wild, I mean, too cool for words.
I love this post! I'm still thinking about that fateful day, when you almost made that dream. Survival instincts probably played a part.
I commented on WhackaDoodle Dandy, but had to comment here as well. And thanks for the mention, so nice of you:)
I can' believe some of the restrictions they use to deny people their dreams. Too short? Argh.
Gardner, hey Handsome, glad you could drop by. Isn't that why you like hanging with us writers? :)
Terry, of course, you prompted my post! Thank you so much! My comment got so long (on your post) that I decided to make it short and cut the rest over to WhackaDoodle.
Then I posted it here for my friends who don't yet follow WD.
Thank you for jarring loose that memory from these deep inner recesses. It was crystal clear as I was writing. I was right back there again, poised with pen in hand. So thank you, thank you for the memory. And for the inspiration.
Vicki, I know, isn't it awful. My daddy breathed those airplanes and would've made a damn good pilot. Of course he ended up making a damn good flight test mechanic. And a pretty good drunk.
He died early. Of a broken heart. I always thought it was from losing my mama. But maybe it was from losing his dream. He had a massive heart attack when he was 49, just before my 20th birthday.
Broken heart. Yeah. Sucks. Makes you wonder how different life might have been for him/us if he had gotten to be a pilot.
~Olivia
Having worn many hats is an ideal background for a writer.
Lee
Tossing It Out
It probably does help. Lee, check out my post tomorrow!!
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