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Posts Tagged ‘private pilot’

My husband Bob flew a small 4-seater plane, a Piper Arrow, for awhile. Being a private pilot was his idea of recreation. He learned to fly in medical school. I think he loved being up above the clouds, away from the sturm and drang of everyday existence – out of touch and away from his training, floating in space. The only problem was when we married, I was a reluctant co-pilot; I abhorred encountering ‘weather,’ disliked getting my head tossed about, and lost it when our electrical system failed and we had to make an emergency landing. Of course this ER doc loved it! Bob cherished the checklists and had back-up plan after back-up plan ready to go.

So naturally I followed the NYTimes reporting about Mr T at the NATO summit in Turkey, switching up his new Air Force One, a grift from a Qatari prince, to an older model.

After all, who doesn’t travel with two jets? Supposedly the Secret Service was worried about the new jet’s defensive capabilities after the war that isn’t a war with Iran escalated. Once the news broke, Mr T made light of the situation saying they were sending the plane in to get “maxxed out!” The story might have died there… but the Grifter-in-Chief sensed a leak. He sent his DOJ into overdrive, subpoenaing Times journalists and their phone records for the whole year, including their family members!

Journalists in this country depend on a condition of anonymity. If our sources don’t want to be identified, we make a solemn promise to keep their identity out of print. We cannot be compelled to divulge that information, even by a judge. For most reporters of a certain age, myself included, we would rather go to jail. The NYTimes so far has quashed the subpoenas. The DOJ has said “… reporters are not the targets, those leaking classified information are.” Which sounds an awful lot like this will hurt me more than it will hurt you.

Over the years, I’ve heard many people say, “Don’t quote me on that.” So you learn to write, “A trusted source,” or “A friend told me,” or “The word on the street.” If a reporter gives up their source, and don’t forget we usually need three sources to substantiate information, they may as well hang up their pen along with their integrity. Luckily, I was never asked. No one needed to know who called the new Borough Hall paint color Pepto Bismol pink.

After three more American service members were killed this weekend, bringing the number of deaths to 17 with one MIA and hundreds injured, this administration has cleverly turned the tables of anonymity. This is a typical, adolescent MAGA tactic, the “No I didn’t lie about the election… YOU lied!” Hegseth captured the news cycle with testing the troops for testosterone, delaying the latest statistics in an unpopular and unending war/ceasefire/war with Iran.

“Eric Schmitt of the New York Times noted that lack of information from the Pentagon today when he reported that in the week before the weekend’s deaths, three Iranian strikes injured military personnel and damaged several helicopters yet the Pentagon under Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth did not disclose the strikes, the casualties, or the damage to the American people, citing the need to keep information about operations secure.” https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/us-politics

The need for security vs the need to know. Press freedom is fundamental to our Constitution. Thank God a judge has issued a temporary restraining order on the 81 Billion dollar merger between Paramount and Warner Brothers Discovery. That deal would put two trusted news sources, CNN and CBS, under the ownership of the Ellison family – all acolytes of DJ Trump. Have you tried watching Sixty Minutes lately? Will our democracy die through propaganda? Even Fox didn’t carry Mr T’s deranged primetime speech about election fraud this week.

Bob has told me that flying through white clouds and all of a sudden seeing the runway appear was always transcendental. For me it was a leap of faith, knowing my husband could land the plane and reciting the rosary on the way down. While ICE continues to shoot and kill people in our streets, and this president wages war on the Persian people and continues to concentrate power in the Executive branch, I have to believe that the American people will show up in force this November.

ps – this Virginia cousin can now VOTE!

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How to Evade Ebola by Flying Yourself!

A man for all seasons, Bob is also a private pilot. I haven’t flown with him in awhile, for many reasons. But mostly it’s because the weather has to be perfect, and I have to have a destination in mind. Like the Love Bug. You won’t find me flying over to Newport News for lunch. And also there’s this, I just don’t like flying! But yesterday, I squeezed myself into the plane.

Pre-flight Check

Pre-flight Check

Me:  The interior looks great! Ouch, oh yeah I forgot I’ve got to take my earrings off before I put the headset on. Thinking to myself – Let’s see where can I stow them? Can’t reach my bag in the back… wait, I’ll just clip them onto my necklace.

Bob:  What? Here you’ve got to have the mic right up to your mouth, like this, like you’re kissing it

Me:  OK, are we clear? What about those clouds?

Bob:  We’re clear to 9,000 ft. Those clouds are around 5

Me:  Good, so it’s smooth sailing?

And it was pretty smooth, the clouds underneath us looked like marshmallow fluff, until I noticed a little red button light up and Bob started fooling around, quickly, and he’s never quick in the cockpit, with the throttle and the landing gear

Me:  What’s up? (said meekly and like I didn’t know something was wrong). Thinking to myself – we are 9,000 ft in the air and the landing gear isn’t supposed to come down until we descend in another 200 miles or so

Bob:  We’re just going to slow down a little  

Me:  Straining to read the red button on Bob’s panel – WARNING GEAR UNSAFE!   

Warning Light

Warning Light

Bob:  The door’s probably not fully closing (the Piper Arrow has retractable wheels, and the doors to said wheels were just replaced in its annual)

Me:  Thinking to myself – So this is it, we’ll have to fly around the airport to burn off all the fuel and then land on foam, if Charlottesville even has foam to put down on the runway, and we’ll make the local news, there will be fire trucks…

Bob:  We’ve got three green (which means all three wheels have come down) so it’s not a problem.

For an emergency physician/pilot, nothing is a problem. These people are the epitome of cool under pressure. Remember the voice recording of Sully landing in the Hudson? That’s Bob, telling me there’s nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t like flying around the Jersey Shore this time of year, with its kaleidoscope of pink and red cranberry bogs. But it was autumn in the Shenandoah Valley and beautiful just the same. It is also Homecoming weekend for UVA, so yesterday we landed amid the Big Jets with all their private pilots in uniform hanging around talking about who was getting enough sleep.

There wasn’t another plane in the sky all the way from Nashville, but three hours later and finally on the ground – all three green down – our little four-seater Piper was the poor relative to the top 1% of the 1% of alums flying in to see the Hoos play the Heels.

Me:  Perfect landing. Thanks honey, that beats 9 hours in the car!

Bob:  Smiling, thinking to himself – I’m gonna call that mechanic first thing Monday morning.  IMG_1478

 

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