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but for the innocent, life-giving tears of laughter and sore stomach muscles they induce – like the one mentioned above.
There was no malicious intent in her query. No intentional evil, obscene or eye-winking maneuver in her interroga- tive statement. But it sure was funny. The incident reminded me of how great it used to be to talk without fear of of- fending someone or of having the politi- cal correctness police whip our dairy air on social media or national TV. As long as your intentions were not nefarious, rude or mean spirited, the behavior was acceptable. But thanks to those with marginal levels of intelligence and social etiquette that have exploited the kind- hearted nature of most folks, apparently, those friendly behavioral norms are now prohibited. Why can’t we be civil yet still have fun? I suppose it’s because in many situations, there’s the possibil- ity for uncomfortable, offensive, even disastrous fallout. What if several chil- dren overheard the stiff-drink exchange and witnessed the resulting grown-up response, and then queried inquisitively (like kids do)? Once the parent wiped the tears of laughter from their own eyes, the impromptu, and in-public “birds and bees” speech could be postponed as a conversation for later. Like the scene from the TV commercial “When Smith Barney talks, people listen,” never in a classroom or at home will you see children paying attention with such focus as when they seek to understand private adult social interaction. Imagine all of the kids within four rows from the overheard comment, leaning into the aisle to understand the laughter and to hear the next new word. Thus, my point about paying attention and humor vs. our memory and learning – it works on children of all ages – even us.
Humor can also be a welcome breath of fresh air during an arduous day. The life of an airline crew is suitcases, TSA, hotel vans, restaurants and public rest- rooms (remind me to schedule another session with a psychiatrist for my auto- mysophobia). And it can be draining: Drive to the bus, take the bus to a com- muter hotel at base. The next morning, take the hotel van to the airport, fly 6 to 8 hours, then van to the layover hotel, go to bed hungry because you’re too tired
to get dressed to go find food, van to another airport the next morning, f ly for 6 to 8 hours, van to the hotel, van to another airport the next morning, fly for 6 to 8 hours, van to the layover hotel...repeat, repeat and repeat. Now you know how airline pilots accrue tens of thousands of hours.
We still occasionally go out for din- ner as a crew to eat, drink, laugh and share stories of our families and how the airline “used to be.” But don’t be fooled into believing that layover hotels are a “mini-vacation.” As I write this, I’m at a layover hotel in downtown Jack- sonville, Florida. It’s Saturday night, an hour after dark and my hotel is two blocks from an outdoor jazz concert. It’s loud enough to hear from my room and I know that in a few hours (after I have fallen asleep) many of the revel- ers, having consumed a few stiff ones themselves, will be returning to their rooms in this very hotel, perhaps on this very floor. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my. Tomorrow is day two of a four-day trip and my show time in the morning is well before sunrise. I will see some of the revelers in the lobby when I board the van. They will ask with slurred speech, “You a pilot? Where ya flying at, um, to, tonight, ah, today dude, sir?” And then they’ll stumble off without waiting for a response. If you had listened, dude, I’ll be in command of an airliner f lying back-and-forth across Tornado Alley, finally ending up in Seattle late this afternoon. The next morning, I will wake at 2:40 a.m. for a 3:40 a.m. show time and resume the above repeat, re- peat and repeat. When I get home, we’re headed to Flying Cloud (FCM) with the Duke for some light maintenance. The next day, we pick up a patient in RST, take them to BIV then home to mow grass, do laundry, pay bills, repack my bag and back to the repeat, repeat and repeat. It’s interesting that despite this routine, recent studies claim airline pilots live about five years longer than the general population – must be that morning, um, drink thing.
Or perhaps workplace drudgery is part of what makes us live longer. It allows us to share a special bond and to create memories. Those involved in aviation share the bond of operating a
Airfleet Capital, Inc.
July 2019 / TWIN & TURBINE • 37