airdisaster.info

FL330, the basement of outer space.....

This is where I operate.

These are the true stories of the International Super Genius Pilot of the Millennium.

So where does it all begin? That single point in life where one launches into the "rest" of thier life?

How does one know what they want to be?

Every red blooded American boy grows up playing Cowboys and Indians, racing Go-Carts, jumping bicycles while pretending to be the Lone Ranger, Dale Earnhardt or Evel Knevel.

Me? I grew up making parachutes, testing hand held gliders, reading aviation magazines and doing detailed studies of passing aircraft.

I was going to be a pilot.

I was going to be a pilot, too. Then life sent me a memo, in the form of an audiologist's report to the Air Force. But please share, for I still yearn for that life.

Every red blooded American boy grows up playing Cowboys and Indians, racing Go-Carts, jumping bicycles while pretending to be the Lone Ranger, Dale Earnhardt or Evel Knevel.

Me? I grew up making parachutes, testing hand held gliders, reading aviation magazines and doing detailed studies of passing aircraft.

I was going to be a pilot.

Fascinating.

Did you somehow instinctively know you were going to be different to all the other boys?

Every red blooded American boy grows up playing Cowboys and Indians, racing Go-Carts, jumping bicycles while pretending to be the Lone Ranger, Dale Earnhardt or Evel Knevel.

Some of them become fascinated with airplanes, and unfortunately, some of them find certain websites, supposedly dealing with a love of avaition, but where the actual objectives are somewhat disturbing.

Fixed.