Learning to Fly

Learning to Fly. Getting your "wings". Soaring above the clouds.

Well, I wish I was going to write about Metaphors here, but, I'm not. I'm talking about learning to fly --
as in, flight school. As in Pilot's license. Gahhh! It makes me nervous even thinking about it.

Let's clear one thing up, right away. It is not me taking the flying lessons. The people who know me well, are laughing right now, because they know I barely drive a car as it is. I have my license, I just really do not like to drive.
No, it's not me, it's my Dad.

When we were up visiting last weekend, Dad and I went out to get a few groceries and some propane for the BBQ. On the way back we drove by the local airport, because I had heard that there was supposed to be some kind of show there.

I wouldn't say my Dad's a risk-taker. He's just adventurous. He would be one of the first guys to jump off the top of the cliff into the Lake at the cottage, or the first one to volunteer if you said, "Who wants to go parasailing? Anyone up for skydiving? Waterskiing? Who knows how to build the biggest bonfire? I'm not sure what this meat is, I think it's Moose, wanna try it?"

You get the idea.

For as long as I can remember, my Dad has wanted to fly.

I don't think that's an odd thing at all. Who hasn't wanted to fly like a bird?
In theory, it sounds like a lovely idea.
I've had dreams about flying, myself. I can't recall flying like Peter Pan in a dream, more like Wonder Woman, seated in her invisible jet. LOL. Okay - - It's weird, right? But, have you had a flying dream? Maybe a floating dream even. Out-of-body experience? We may be crossing into different territory here...back to the flying.

So, tons of people have thought about it. "Wouldn't it be cool to be able to fly a plane?"
Maybe there are more people than I realize, out making that dream come true, flying the skies in little planes. But, he's my Dad! Ack! Anxiety!!
I don't think he'd be bad at it, just the opposite. He'd be a pro. I'm sure he's a natural. But, Jiminy Cricket! I don't want my Dad flying around in something, that, for all intents and purposes, is basically a tin can with wings. Crunch!

For all you pilots who are reading this right now *eyeroll* (any pilots out there?!) You're likely saying, "He has a better chance of being in a car accident tomorrow, than being in a plane crash"... well those odds do change when you go from not flying planes at all, to flying in planes often. Am I right? Odds of crashing in a plane go waaay down when you DON'T GET INTO A PLANE.

Now, look at this photo I took of him at the show, looking at this plane, while dreaming about flying to Quebec to visit one of his brothers

Would you look at that smile? Like a kid in a candy store.

I mean, look at him! So happy!

We're walking around this small airstrip, checking out some of the planes that are for sale, or on display for the day, and he is just a little chatterbox. So excited. I have no idea what I'm looking at. "AIRPLANE?"  I mutter, like a Neanderthal. 

They look smaller than I imagine they would be.  Less safe as well. 

You are really crammed in there! Maybe this wasn't the best idea for me to come and look at these things. 

Then, I look at him again, beaming from ear-to-ear as he talks about what it's like being up there, in one of those "things". 

I sigh. 

It's official. 

He's really serious, and, I'm happy for him! I tell that voice in the back of my head that's saying "Well, this is dangerous" to shut up. Dad's living a dream! 

We go to look at more planes. 

So, after we take a tour around the tarmac, we head to the training school. Dad's been up a few times, but apparently the old school had a bankruptcy problem and this one is under new ownership. (Not helping my anxiety) Dad's looking for a bit of info about this new Flight School. The secretary tells him the instructor is on his way in. A few minutes later, a kid wearing a concert shirt, who, I assume is the one deejaying the event comes in and introduces himself to my Dad. He is one of the flight instructors. 

My nerves are shot. 

I am sure he's a great pilot. I mean, they wouldn't let him teach flying if he wasn't. Riiiiight?! 

I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt, here. 

If I were going to learn how to fly though, I think I would rather have the 80 year old pilot with years and years of flying experience than the newbie. I'm not sure how many Flight Hours one needs, along with tests to get one's pilot license. I just googled it. Wikipedia says 60-70 hours approx. That's it? It doesn't seem like enough to me.

WOW. This doesn't seem supportive at all, does it?
In some ways, I am like my Father. In other ways, not so much.
If I was a colour, I would likely be beige. Safe. Boring mostly. I don't stand out in a crowd. I do not plan on flying a plane one day. LOL.
BUT! As long as he's cautious and feels confident in flying, then, I support my Dad. I know he can do it, and I know he will do it!

My Dad is going to be a pilot! :)
(I need a drink)