The first time (Flying)

Who’d be without it?

Do you remember the first time? You heard about it, you read about it, you saw it happen or you overheard an adult going on and on about it. It seemed unbelievable, farcical, and even physically impossible.

Then you moved from reading about it to dreaming about it. If you were a child of the 90’s onwards you probably even simulated it, with a joystick.

If you were an early developer, as a young spotty teenager you finally got to have a go yourself. The initial attempts were probably pretty clumsy. A few ham fisted, white knuckled, knee knocking shy touch and goes. Hopefully she was a tolerant creature and put up with your first fumbling attempts.

As you gained experience, you became a little smoother, grew in confidence and improved your approach technique. You would have picked up a few tips from the old boys around the bar. Finally you would have been ready to go all the way.

The first time alone, just you and her you have never forgotten. You would have been in a state of euphoria for days, walking on air, the King of all you purveyed. In short for everyone else you would have been intolerably smarmy.

Eventually after a few partnerships you would have settled down into a solid routine of practicing every Saturday. Sometimes something fancier took your eye and you moved on to bigger, faster, flasher models.

If you were rich enough you brought into a long term relationship that required a lot of maintenance and less frequency of doing it due to other (family) commitments. After a number of years you may have become too complacent. You found on final approach that everything suddenly went pear shaped because you weren’t paying enough attention.

A bit of wake turbulence, a hurried recovery, and a pride sapping go around. Expensive if the creature involved felt at all aggrieved by your handling. If you were wise you learnt from the bad experience and applied more attention to the next new partnership.

Then there are the shows. All blue skies and perfect performances. Beautifully outfitted and ingeniously choreographed. Music, lights, action. An addicts dream.

Too attend these performances you need a hat and sunglasses for disguise (it wouldn’t do your reputation any good being seen at these occasions). Some of the attendees bring scanners to listen in on the backstage gossip. If you’ve money you can bribe certain officials to letting you into privileged seating. If you’re really loaded you can slip some money down the front of the performer’s outfits and they might take you for a ride. The general public has to line the front row and crane their necks to see the best of the performance.

The show of course is an ecstasy of seductive noises and magical tricks. The smell of Avgas is erotic and the taste of pies and waffles overwhelming. The best thing, the thing that gets the body vibrating is the pulsating of the air by the high thrusting creatures of foreign extraction. They demand attention with their sexy lines and their impressive maneuvers. They are flighty and don’t tend to hang around to sign autographs much to the disappointment of their fans. The machines on display leave you weak at the knees and gasping for breath. Awestruck. You’ve never seen the like. As for the vertical dances!!!

 

Knowing that they are too hot for a mere mortal to handle you mossie on home afterwards still a bit star struck and go back to your old girl with renewed vigour. You are feeling revitalized and ready to try something new and exciting.

 
You remember the first time, you remember the bare times, you remember the adventurous times and you wonder at the whole miracle of it. Ah FLIGHT who’d be without it. From your 16^th birthday to your dying breath you live for it. It is your life if you are so afflicted.