Just Call Me Sparky

Alpha Geek started working on his pilot’s license years ago. I wanted to do likewise, but decided instead to spend the money getting a degree in accounting. The degree, I reasoned, would enable me to find a well-paying job that would then finance getting the license.

Seems I wasted my money. I graduated right about the time the economy tanked, and ever since I have been competing for jobs with highly-experienced professionals who got laid off of their twenty-year positions as corporate CPAs, or something. I shoulda just spent the dough on the license.

Oh well. If I can’t fly ’em, at least I can be around ’em. I joined the flying club as an associate member or somesuch, which means I’m a member but I don’t fly. In my application letter I said I’d just like to be able to come to maintenance night and fondle the airplanes. Then I changed the active verb to “be around.”

Honestly, I think they would have been okay with the first version. These are people who love planes.

Last night I went to my first maintenance night and helped them do 50-hour maintenance on a couple of Piper Warriors.

And by “helped,” I mean I followed them around and watched everything and asked a lot of questions. And fondled the airplanes.