Page 34 - Volume 16 Number 8

by David MillerThey Told Me NoOne Would Use ItCaution: The following material may not be suitable for young children, small animals, oWr the infirm.hen I took delivery of my Mustang, I was in high cotton. Not only did my new steed have all the latest computerized flight control systems, it had a potty.Some of you may remember that I have written about this part of the aircraft’s anatomy before, describing the Mustang depository as a camping toilet, provided privacy by a soft curtain on one side and on the other, a magnetized hula hoop made of panty hose. I think the color is taupe.I never really figured anyone would actually use it, but it’s the kind of thing that’s worthless until that unplanned moment when it’s worth all the money in the world. Most of my pilot friends would glance at the throne and comment that it was only good for storing things on top of. I thought so, too until about a month ago.We departed KADS (Addison, Texas) on a warm summer morning for our usual 600 nm jaunt to Gunnison, Colorado (KGUC). The flight was full, including Patty, my son Matt and daughter in law Amy, and their two children, Hayden, almost three, and his sister, Evelyn, nine months. About an hour into the flight, Matt announced that he had to use the facility. No big deal. Cockpit curtain snapped into place and everyone performed flawlessly.Did I mention that Hayden was right in the middle of potty training?Upon seeing his dad do something cool into the loo, Hayden couldn’t resist. Of course, his mom and dad were bound to do everything possible to reinforce the effort, so Hayden took a turn in the plastic bag. He received the requisite applause and a dinosaur tattoo.That’s two down and I had just set my personal record for in-flight use of the seat. Within minutes, Amy tapped me on the shoulder and said she had thought about it for quite a while and just couldn’t resist the opportunity to leave something for me. More curtain snapping ensued.Now, the thought crossed my mind. “I wonder what the capacity of the thin trash bag in that receptacle is?” Surely it would hold. Patty, my co-pilot of 40 years, watched all this from her cockpit position and giggled. Then, she told me she just had to join the procession.With 5,000-plus hours in his logbook, David Miller has been flying for business and pleasure for more than 40 years. Having owned and flown a variety aircraft types, from turboprops to midsize jets, Miller, along with his wife Patty, now own and fly a Citation Mustang. You can contact David at davidmiller1@ sbcglobal.net.That’s four down and two to go. Surely this must be a record for a Mustang? Oh, I forgot to mention that as pilot in command, I was relegated to a portable bag that had been tossed in the potty about 30 minutes earlier.That left only Evelyn and she couldn’t stand the excitement. Unfortunately, Evelyn has no manners at all. She filled her diaper to the brim and it was shoved into the caldron post haste. I think it was flaming.I was concerned about a major CG shift forward due to the mass deposits and was close to declaring an emergency while dropping the oxygen masks for survival. Everyone pretended not to notice and smiled politely, while holding their noses and squirming on downwind.As we taxied in, we planned a modified emergency evacuation. I glanced back to see everyone lined up at the door shoving to be the first one out.Of course, as a very famous pilot in command, I am met in Gunnison by several line personnel at every landing, ready to assist me in any way. Only, on this day, holding a bag the size and shape of a medium ripe watermelon, they all seemed to have no idea who I was and backed away from the ripe Mustang as well.I am not going to tell you where I put the bag. Fly safe.ON FINAL32 • TWIN & TURBINE AUGUST 2012