Wonderful and sad memories of the decades. Incredible airplanes, fun destinations, glimpses of God's green earth so stunning that you might think you've already crossed over into Heaven. And, of course, the friends and students who have shared a common passion along the way. I thank the ones who offered kind compliments on my teaching or service or abilities. And a larger thanks to those able to overlook shortcomings in those same skills.
I miss the friends and acquaintances who never made it this far. Those who never had the second chance to learn from their mistakes. And the innocent passengers who accompanied them, whom I'll not have a chance to meet. These are pilots whose timelines might have been different had I the chance to work with them before their fateful flights. I hate waste - of time, of material, of opportunity. And I hate waste of human potential.
It's not fashionable to speak of "hate" nowadays, but it is a perfectly suitable word in context. Pilots are a passionate breed, with strong emotions that must be restrained while aloft. The same love of flying that drives pilots to excel can also morph into an equally strong hatred: of restraint, of discipline, of regulations, of process, and of procedures. It has been a privilege to serve my clients who voluntarily come to me for teaching and mentoring, and to help strike an emotional balance between passions.
How did a reflection on flying end up being about people and not airplanes? Oh yes, there have been memorable planes over the years. But ultimately, the conversations come back to the friendships. And that really is the best part of any experience, isn't it?
Happy (con)trails. See you upstairs.