They say there are seven degrees of separation between all of us.
(Something like that.)
Not in this business!
A couple of weeks ago I met a pilot in Mississippi. I'll call him Goldwater. I ran into him the other night in Texas.
Goldwater introduced me to another pilot friend of his that had come to town to visit Goldwater and a mutual friend of theirs.
(With me so far?)
So, as is customary, the three of us were drinking beer, doing shots and telling lies.
Visiting friend says, "blah blah yadda yadda Mombasa..."
"Mombasa? When were you in Mombasa?"
"Why? Were you there? When?"
"Yeah, '92. 'Provide Comfort'."
"What were you doing?"
"Maintenance on Priority Air Transport."
"No shit. Then you know pilots D and B."
"Hell, yes. I was sitting right seat when D blew the engine of off the R/H wing!"
"Sonofabitch! That was you?"
"That was me!"
"Bill's here in town. He's the guy we were telling you about. I've got his number."
Next thing I know he hands me the phone. I hear B, "Hello?"
Now, I haven't talked to B in 17 years. What the hell am I gonna say? He doesn't know that he's being featured on a bar room version of this is your life. He has no idea who is on the other end of the phone...
"B, just which Tom Clancy novel were you reading when D blew up the engine?"
"DAVID!!!!!!!!! Where the hell are you?"
I had lunch today with one of three people on the planet that were 'There' that day.
"There we were. 18,000 feet over the plains of Africa..."
- ▼ 2009 (13)
- ► 2008 (55)