Flying

From a Journal 23 Years Ago.

Recently I was asked to find a journal I kept when we met twenty-three years ago. In it, I found a passage in which I wrote about a dream I had awoken from. Twenty-three years ago! We had been dating for less than a month. The Key to a Happy Marriage In my dream, I sat with S. Morgan in first class on a transatlantic flight. For most of the flight, we sat in the silent peace of new love, only pausing to remark on an elderly couple sitting in front of us. We hoped that when we reached their age, we would look as they did and be as happy as they were. They looked like kids in love. They cuddled and sat with their arms around each other, regardless of whether the stillness hurt their old bones. Midway across the ocean, the plane started developing troubles, and it looked like we wouldn’t make it to the other side. It was a slow descent, giving us time to reflect on our short time together. We watched the couple kiss […]

No longer an Airline Captain and I’ve Lost My Mojo

I’ve been an airline Captain since 2001. With a recent airline change I’m a First Officer again. The copilot. Just like Kareem Abdul-Jabar… and the guy who sat next to Sully. I’m one step up from Otto the autopilot in Airplane. I should have made business cards that said “Cool Jet Captain” while I could. (Mental note – change my voicemail greeting from Jet Captain to Seat Filler.) I’ve switched seats and I’ve lost my mojo. I don’t know where to put my pen. My right hand moves to push the buttons even though they’re on my left side now. And damned if I can’t make passenger announcements anymore. For years I’ve been saying the same thing to the people in the back. THE.SAME.THING “Folks, this is your Captain speaking. Blah blah blah. Weather is blah blah blah. There is going to be a few bumps on our climb out blah blah blah.” But now I start in with “This is your….” And I’m lost. Flatline. My inner voice screams “LINE!” But it’s just me. No cue cards. No teleprompter. Just me…

National Adoption Month. Where Do Storks Come From?

“Father?” Said the almost five year old. “Listen, there is something I’ve been thinking about. You and I have been watching a lot of classic television programing lately. Shows like Tom and Jerry and Dumbo and I’ve noticed that in them, often a Stork drops off a baby to Moms and Dads.” “Yes?” I answer while thinking, “Here we go. It’s time to talk about his adoption story. Where’s Mom? It’s something her and I have had on our to-do list but just haven’t gotten to. Damn you MarioKart.” “So in these shows,” He continues. “The families always receive their babies from flying Storks. They are dropped from the moonlit sky and the little ones float in under a full parachute safely to land on the doorstep of their eager families. I’ve seen a Stork drop little elephants, giraffe and humans. All sorts of things. But what I’m wondering is this. Who brings the Storks?” “Uh, I’m not sure I follow?” “Well. A Stork flying around with a baby llama is quite a sight. Clearly that’s not the Storks child.

What I Did Not Do During My Summer Vacation

I was on vacation during the month of July. I ceased all work related activities. I also didn’t… It was a blissful month away from the airport. I return to the cockpit tomorrow. I just hope they didn’t move any of the buttons around.

How Hollywood Gets Airline Life Wrong

In many ways… Hollywood’s depiction of airline life is completely wrong. In some ways it’s spot on and I claim those scenes as just another day at the office. My ownership to what scene I sell as truth depends on the audience I’m with. If I’m sitting with guys and it’s a pilot surrounded by beautiful ladies at a bar listening intently to him tell stories I’ll say, “Yep, they nailed it!” If I’m with my mom who gets anxious about my flying and a scene is on where the pilot calmly cheats death by flying inverted through a storm because the elevator has lost effectiveness I’ll say, “Yep, they nailed it.” Most of the time though flying movies make me laugh. I’m sure all industries are critical of the movie studios depiction of their profession but films with airplanes on the poster can be so comical about it. I can’t imagine a bunch of pipe fitters laughing at plumbing movies as much as pilots do about cockpit scenes. But imitation is the sincerest form of flattery so I guess

Captain Dad – I Called Maintenance Control for a Toy Helicopter

My work life and home life collided yesterday when my son complained that his toy Hess helicopter wasn’t working as it was supposed to. “My helicopter won’t fly anymore!” It never flew. The blades spun. It lit up. It made lots noise. But it never flew. In his world, it did though. And now it did not. The batteries were dead. Naturally, they died while we were in the car. Away from fresh batteries. I suggested maybe we should take it to the helicopter doctor. In hindsight… this wasn’t the best approach. Although I liked the sound of helicopter doctor and it sounded pretty damned cute when he said it, it got pretty old when he refused to do anything but go to the helicopter doctor. “I think maybe the doctor is not in today.” I said. “I want to go to the helicopter doctor.” “Actually, they are not accepting new patients at the moment. I called last week for Mommy’s helicopter.” “I want to go to the helicopter doctor now!” “There is no such thing as a helicopter doctor!

The Things You Find in Hotel Beds

Do not read this if you are in a hotel bed. If you are in a hotel bed please tell me you removed the bedspread. Please tell me you didn’t eat something with your bare hands after touching the remote control, alarm clock or light switch. You aren’t walking around barefoot, are you? You’re using the coffee pot?! I spend half the year in hotel beds. I’m not an escort. I get paid less. Having spent half the year in hotel beds for a decade and a half I’ve witnessed some things. You could say, “I’ve been around the block.” Again, not an escort. Some things will change you forever. Some just add to the growing list of phobias and fears that grow exponentially with time. Like cuneiform bacteria in the hotel sink. One of my worst hotel nights was the evening I watched a Dateline special on hotel cleanliness while lying in a hotel bed. As they shined the black light around the room illuminating bodily fluids on every exposed surface it wasn’t hard to imagine it was my

Eat, Sleep, Fly

Sometimes people ask me what it’s like to be a pilot. “Wow, that must be so cool! I bet you’re really smart. You must have been good at math in school. Are all pilots as handsome as you?”I’ve never gotten that last one. I made that up. When asked about how thrilling it must be I agree that it is both fun and exciting. I like to perpetuate the myth. That’s what we do. Spin yarn. Tell tall tales. Back in the day it was called “hangar flying” or something like that. But the truth is it’s never as adventurous as it sounds. Below is a sample day. Actually, this isn’t just a sample. This is every day. EVERY DAY. The job is standardized and consistent for safety. Every flight begins and ends with the gear going up and then back down again. In that order. Very important. Take note. On today’s sample day, I’m on day two of a four-day trip. I fly out early and if all goes as planned I will be done by 4:00 pm in

The Time I Told an Aviation Icon I Didn’t Have a Business Card

Filed away years ago as, “Well, that sure was stupid.” Once, I met Southwest founder and former CEO, Herb Kelleher in the airport. We talked at length and I got the impression he liked me. He suggested as much. And then he asked for my card. To which I replied, “I don’t have a card. I’ve never had a reason to carry one.” It started like this. I was working a flight from Washington D.C. to Dallas and we were delayed for weather. We had boarded and were at the gate and I made a few announcements that the weather was looking bad in Dallas and we would wait a bit longer and hope for the best but there wasn’t much more we could do. I like to make these announcements using the flight attendant’s PA so I can be face to face with the passengers when I deliver the news. Especially if I’m having a good hair day. In this case, I had to make the announcement a few times until the final, “Well, it looks like we are

Is the First Officer Actually a Pilot?

Since the beginning, there have always been two pilots up on the flight deck. Had it not been for the Wright Brothers, maybe we’d only have one seat up there. It’s a common misconception that the First Officer (commonly referred to as the copilot in the movies or ‘gear monkey’ in real life) isn’t really a pilot. This is false. They are just as qualified as the Captain. The real question though is… are they essential? This takes us back to the Wright Brothers. Pilots are narcissists who need an audience. We need someone to laugh at our jokes and make us feel important. We need someone to entertain us when we get tired of monitoring the autopilot. We also need someone to humbly do the dirty work so we can keep our hands clean. This need for validation is  what encouraged the Wright Brothers to take to the skies in the first place. That and sibling rivalry.  The day Orville beat Wilbur in a bike race is the day Wilbur said, “Oh yeah! I’m gonna put wings on a

What You Should Not Ask Your Flight Crew

We obviously spend lots of time around the humans. We are in the service industry after all. Day in and day out we spend our time carrying you, your loved ones, your bags and your ‘service animals’ from here to there with ease. We do this with a smile on our face. Not because we get paid exorbitant amounts of money to do so but because we love it. It’s in our blood. Even though the means of travel have changed, the drivers and their staff have stayed the same. “All aboard!” I shout from the cockpit window up to the terminal waving my Captain’s hat through the morning fog while confirming the departure time on my gold pocket watch. Children watch with their noses to the window wondering what far off land I will be steering this magical flying machine to. My passengers are waving from their windows as we sail away. Except for the ones in steerage. They are angry. But while times have changed, I wonder if the passengers have remained the same? Did they make small

Why it is Imperative you Land a Pilot

This article was floating around Facebook today explaining why it is imperative you land a pilot. 6 reasons to be exact. Since I am a pilot, I figured I’d explain my reasoning why scoring a Jet Captain should be on your to-do list. While you may find a man irresistible who gets paid to strap himself to a hurtling piece of metal for a living think about this: that same man safely brings that metal back down to Earth while dodging birds, kites, and the occasional errant birthday party balloon. How sexy it must be to imagine him in the cockpit driving the airplane to the gate as quickly and safely as possible because he needs to use the restroom after pounding coffee for the last few hours. Even though these notions are enticing enough, let me tell you other down-to-earth reasons why dating a pilot is a real treat. And if you’re so lucky to marry one, I’ll tell you the secrets you have in store for you. I should know. I am a pilot. If you’re into jet

Thomas the Tank Engine in “Just Say No to Drones”

It was a bright and sunny day on the island of Sodor, and all the trains were running on time except for one. Thomas the Tank Engine sat with his big engine idling and burning fuel at Sodor Station, waiting for a return call from crew scheduling. “What is it this time?” asked the gate agent. Usually, she was nice and friendly with a big smile, but today she looked cross, and her smile was an angry frown. “We have a schedule to keep, and now your passengers will be late for their connections.” “I don’t know what to tell you,” said Thomas, attempting a reassuring smile. “I’ve called crew scheduling to see where my conductor is, and now all I can do is wait for them to call back. They are short-staffed as usual and probably having a hard time finding someone who is on call.” This news didn’t turn her frown around at all. If anything, Thomas noticed maybe the frown got even deeper. “Why do you need a conductor anyway?” she asked. “Can’t you drive yourself –

Folks, It will Be Yet Another Hour Before We Depart.

Some days, I actually do work. But it’s not the work you would assume. It’s not fighting nasty storms or battling wind shear down the final approach to an icy runway. It’s interacting with the passengers and assuring them that at some point, we will arrive at our destination. I like that part of the job. To my flight attendant friends, I say this: “Yes, I know. When things get tough, I get to close the bulletproof cockpit door. Your job is way harder than ours!” So, I only work a little bit, but it is the part of the job I really enjoy and the reason why I’ve never really been drawn to the world of cargo flying. They say, “Boxes don’t complain,” but it’s these types of fires I enjoy putting out. Our 12:30 flight boarded on time yesterday, and we began our taxi, although I had a hunch we’d be delayed. Nothing official yet, I just had a hunch. We were off to Washington’s Reagan Airport, and both Baltimore and Washington Dulles-bound flights had been issued a

Returning from vacation – time to catch up on the news

I returned to work yesterday from a three-week vacation with the family. While at work and living on the road, I have lots of downtime that I fill with ‘entertainment’ that I would never make time for at home: bad movies on cable, aimless walks around Wal-Mart, and celebrity gossip magazines. US, Star, People, and the like are often the most left-behind magazines by passengers on the airplane. Is this because they are disposable and easily consumed, or are they the most purchased magazines in the airport? Whatever the answer, I love it when I find three competing issues from the same week! I call it a trash-fecta and have made a game where I see if I can find the same shot of the same celeb in the same location taken by the same paparazzi. Even though my game is as mind-numbing as the crossword puzzles and word searches in the back of the ‘publication,’ it amazes me when I see someone has taken the time to play them! “Three-letter first name of The Price is Right host …

Alert the pitcrew, we’re coming for more fuel

I showed up in DC at an hour usually reserved for raccoons and regret—5:30 a.m.—for a flight to Kansas City, which was only the beginning of this majestic loop-de-loop across the middle bits of America. From Kansas City, I hopped a flight to Milwaukee where a 3.5-hour layover waited for me like a bored TSA agent. There, I stretched out beneath the warm glow of a flickering CNN Airport News Network screen, reporting with great irony on how regional pilots are overworked and underpaid. Sully got name-dropped—as always—while experts explained how the industry is propped up by “commuter pilots,” which I’ve been for over a decade. I stayed with the regionals while others chased shiny jets and got furloughed when the majors tossed their routes back to us like hot potatoes. When I got hired in 1999, my “region” was Pennsylvania. Now it’s the lower 48. Eventually, it was time to board the leg back to DC. Thunderstorms were playing red rover with the East Coast, so we loaded up extra fuel and took the long way around—swinging south, eyeing

Holds and diverts and storms, oh my.

This was our third leg for the day. We began in Omaha around 2 PM, flew from Omaha to Milwaukee, and then off to Boston. On the return from Boston to Milwaukee, we ended up holding over Grand Rapids for 30 minutes before we made the decision to divert to Indianapolis for more fuel. Holding over Michigan with fuel burning away and planes above and below you all doing the same, you start thinking about plan B. Chicago had been in and out of holding patterns for most of the day, and airports were already full of diversions. This meant a long wait for fuel and the potential for issues with the Passenger Bill of Rights. We had a full flight and several infants on board that could be heard through the bulletproof cockpit door. To make things even more challenging, our Auxiliary Power Unit (APU) was inoperative, which meant no air conditioning on the ground, and I was certain that if a dozen planes were waiting for fuel already, no one would be in a hurry to get us

6 hours ahead to 3 hours behind

On Woensdag (Wednesday), we left Amsterdam for Reno. Well, we attempted to leave Amsterdam for Reno. The daily Usairways flight from AMS to PHL was full and rather than roll the dice on one flight we figured a safer bet would be to roll the dice on two relatively full flights out of Frankfurt. And if we didn’t make these flights? Hey, we get to spend the night in Germany! Fortunately, we had three days to meet my folks and grandparents in Reno. This was Wednesday and we were to meet them Friday. We bought two tickets for the ICE train to Germany. It’s a high-speed train that tops out at 175MPH between cities! Although the room we were in held six, we only shared it with one lady who played Sudoku in German. Sudoku is the international language of road warriors. Upon arrival in Frankfurt, we only had an hour before the first of our two options for the states so we sprinted straight for the ticket counter. This flight was to Charlotte and from there we had a

LOST AND FOUND POETRY AT 37000 FEET

I took a walk to the back of the plane in flight today to pee. This is something I try not to do too often, and it’s called the “Walk of Shame” for good reason. First of all, it requires getting up. After sitting for so long strapped to an airplane seat, that’s pretty tough to do, not because of muscle atrophy or sleeping blood vessels, but because you get so damned lazy and lethargic. To make the trip, though, you have to get a crewmember up front to fill your seat while you’re gone. The doors are bulletproof now, and they figure it’s best not to have one guy locked up front by himself with the other in the back. They always want two bodies up front at all times—so if one passes out dead, the other can still open the door. The awkwardness of leaving the cockpit and walking by all the folks, with them wondering who in the hell is flying the plane, is the big reason why I don’t care too much for taking the “Walk

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