Old age and naughty dreams

[Right Rudder]

Giday was the greeting as número uno climbed into the instructors seat and as he strapped himself in I updated the check list status, all good so clear prop was bellowed at the unopenable door window and the fan burst to life.

 

With the taxi call made and the brakes released the familiar kerplunk of the nose wheel over the taxiway light reminds me that each light run over carries a penalty of one schooner so with a bit of quick mental arithmetic I calculate that in three more lessons he will own a bloody pub, but probably money well spent. We arrive at he holding point, do the brmmm brrmmm test, check all the wobbly bits, set every thing for take off and with the radio call made, line up and shove the go knob down the little jabawoki's throat. As we career down runway 37 like a rabbit in the car headlights right rudder número uno says firmly as the centre line moves towards the right wing tip right rudder more right rudder he's yells and now with the runway light in clear vision RIGHT RUDDER RIGHT RUDDER he screams making some sort of spasmic thrust with his right leg but my left knee was locked in place MY AIRCRAFT he screams with the pitch control of a pubescent teanager MY AIRCRAFT he yodels again and lurches for the control stick, now I'm not saying I have a grip of steel but even my ptt button was turning purple, and as we jumped the runway light all be it with the grace of a startled wood duck, the familiar sound of tyre on tarmac gave way to the wobble of an out of balance wheel and as I glance at número uno with my best HOWZAT look, I notice the tiny beads of sweat on his wrinkle free forehead ( oh to be young again). Leaning forward to raise the flaps and kill the fuel pump the Sunday morning sermon begins, "when I say my aircraft you blah blah blah blah blah blah" and as I gave him my best "problem?" Look, I notice the beads of sweat had migrated to the tip of his nose and had amalgamated in some type of desperate attempt to escape captain grumpy pants, all the while cheered on by his rapidly flaring nostrils, but the sermon continued "when I say right rudder blah blah blah" then silence over the headset. Oh I said I just wanted to hear some one scream my name and as I waken from my slumber even my poodle, who was apparently sick of licking his doggy bits and was now using my face to wipe the tast off his tongue, couldn't erase my cheeky grin.

 

Pleasent dreams and see you at Narromine Saturday

 

Right rudder

 

 

[facthunter]

That's not much of a naughty dream. It's only about aeroplanes. More of a nightmare..Nev

 

 

[Litespeed]

We feel completely ripped off.

 

Where is our humour ?

 

 

[Right Rudder]

Ohh still laughing

 

 

[Marty_d]

Where is our humour ?

"...even my poodle, who was apparently sick of licking his doggy bits and was now using my face to wipe the tast off his tongue..."

I thought that was pretty funny.

 

 

[Deskpilot]

Right Rudder, I liked it. You have a good imagination and a way with words. When's the next installment coming?

 

Flyame started with but one short story and finished with a published book. Are you the to be the next author from these forums?

 

 

[Right Rudder]

Deskpilot, I wish, I have trouble writing a shopping list but, I have a question while not relates to planes it does involve flight.

 

I have a pet lorikeet (Gilbert or "the parrot") who has put on a little weight since his day at the pub (but that's another story) and after his goat chewed his tail feathers flight at mtow can be funny at times. When he is in a show off mood he likes to fly inside low and fast and call Gilbert, Gilbert, Gilbert just before he lowers the landing gear and slide 2 feet to a stop on the polished floor boards, then walk away with a swagger that says did you seeeee that. However when he try's the same manoeuvre in the lounge room he ends up beak deep in the cut and loop, hops up and does a 2 legged hop around the crash site like it was some planned mating dance then run off without saying anything, which brings me to the question, do birds get embarrassed?

 

I'm sure the forum brains trust can shed some light on this perplexing question.

 

Right Rudder

 

 

[Deskpilot]

Do birds get embarrassed? Good question, but it depends on to which type of bird you are referring. In the case of your story, well the answer is probably, no. After all, he never said "SH*T" after the event. Unlike a young nurse I was dating a long time ago who farted and then realized that her panties were wet. Sh*t indeed. Was she embarrassed, oh yes, bloody hell, YES.

 

 

[Marty_d]

Deskpilot, I wish, I have trouble writing a shopping list but, I have a question while not relates to planes it does involve flight.I have a pet lorikeet (Gilbert or "the parrot") who has put on a little weight since his day at the pub (but that's another story) and after his goat chewed his tail feathers flight at mtow can be funny at times. When he is in a show off mood he likes to fly inside low and fast and call Gilbert, Gilbert, Gilbert just before he lowers the landing gear and slide 2 feet to a stop on the polished floor boards, then walk away with a swagger that says did you seeeee that. However when he try's the same manoeuvre in the lounge room he ends up beak deep in the cut and loop, hops up and does a 2 legged hop around the crash site like it was some planned mating dance then run off without saying anything, which brings me to the question, do birds get embarrassed?

I'm sure the forum brains trust can shed some light on this perplexing question.

 

Right Rudder

Deskpilot is right, RR. You have a way with words.