More proof, the Red Baron flies again

Remember these photos?

If you are a reader of my Flagship blog, "AROD138 in Beautiful West Chester, PA" then you know I posted these photos more as proof of what actual hand made Halloween costumes used to look like, as well as an opportunity to praise my mom's handiwork and embarrass myself further by perpetuating the "Nerd" narrative that is a recurring theme in my writings.

Now it seems to me, as I would assume that it would seem to anybody looking at these photos without knowing me, that one would surmise that whomever is in these photos, because of their obvious, early love of flying went on to have a fabulous career in Aviation.

Well, KIND of....

If these photos were taken in 1973, then check this photo taken only 15 years later.

Now is that a costume or what?  I went from cowboy boots, jeans, a cardigan sweater and a paper bag flying helmet, wrapped in a paper mache and chicken wire Fokker DR.1 to a Nomex Flight Suit, Survival Vest and SPH-4 Helicopter flight helmet standing next to a Beechcraft RU-21A Ute. 

As embarrassing as it is to admit this, I have to tell you that I used to take all my ALSE (Aviation Life Support Equipment) home with me instead of putting it in my locker back at the unit so I could just look at all the cool stuff I had, and of course show my little brothers.  That used to drive the ALSE technicians crazy when they tried to keep things up to date with my survival gear and couldn't because I'm playing dress up at home.

And hey, that wasn't all, when I get around to it, I'll scan the photos I have of when I used to work for ComAir, Delta's commuter airline, marshaling Embraer EMB-110 Banderantes, or "Bandits" around the ramp, throwing luggage in the back of them, driving little tractors, and various other cool stuff I used to do back in the day.  

The point of this whole thing is though, my brush with Aviation as a career was short lived in the grand scheme of things.  I flew as an Aircrewman for 10 years, I earned the Senior Army Aircrew Wings in that amount of time, but I only worked at the airport for about 4 years.  With the exception of getting the bulk of my private pilot's license flying out of the way in Denver Colorado almost TEN YEARS AGO since my first SOLO, I haven't had the where with all to finally knock it out and take the check ride.  It's ALWAYS something right?

Well, the point of this blog is not to seek pity, nor beat myself up over it, but perhaps help me refocus what's important to me, and perhaps exploit my passions in such a way that maybe I can accomplish something like getting my pilot's license, and then do some volunteer work with it too.  Hell, my late Uncle Galaor Carbonell was an Artist, a Professor of Art, an Art Critic and a published author of books on Art so who knows, maybe I'll write a book!

As I pick up readers and well wishers, I hope they'll cheer me on and remind me of the obvious rewards in getting it done.  Who knows, maybe one day, cross your fingers, you'll see me flying one of these...

The Beginning

Here it is, proof positive that I was destined to be saddled with the burden of this obsession of mine.  That's me on the right, (don't ask me why I had a tie) and my brother Ralph on the left, with a replica version of the Spirit of Saint Louis in San Diego, 1972.  That puts me at about 5 years old or so.  I'm sure exist somewhere evidence of even earlier exposure to Airframes and Power plants, and if I stumble across them one day I'll post them.  My earliest memories are of going to Lindbergh Field in San Diego, and sitting on the hood of my Dad's car and watching airplanes land.....Hold up now, wait, wait, wait.

Now instead of going on and on about my aviation pedigree, about how much I LOVE airplanes, and all the models I built as a kid and all the books I could get my hands on, I'll skip that assuming that you'll take my word for it.  The truth is, and I don't have statistics on it exactly, but I'm going to venture a guess and say that my story is not very remarkable or very different from the stories of 100's of 1000's of men and women who share my disease.

The question becomes, what can I do about it?  Is there a cure?  Should I learn just to live with it?

It's hard to say.  I think a lot of what this blog will be about will be about the journey of finding out what can be done.  I'm already 43 years old, and I'm not sure what lies ahead, and what opportunities life will present, but you can bet for sure that this nagging thing, this question of "FLIGHT", will be addressed to varying degrees.  One day I might blog about flying stories past.  Another might be about a recent trip to see those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines, and another might be of the day I finally take my Check Ride, get my FAA certification, and become a Private Pilot. 

Oh the journey won't be over then I'm sure, they'll  be plenty of flying stories to tell, catharsis's to be had, demons put to rest, fears conquered, pretty girls and children to impress.

I'll let you know how it goes....

Andy