SixPapaCharlie
May the force be with you
- Joined
- Aug 8, 2013
- Messages
- 16,030
- Display Name
Display name:
Sixer
There I was.
Wait, let's back up a bit.
There I was.
I am at a basketball game watching 7 year olds stumble all over the court like fleet of drunken Six Papa Charlie's.
My son cannot play basketball for crap but I have taught him to draw the foul and he cries a lot anyway so he is a key player.
Where was I?
Oh yes, so I am at the game and in comes a text from PilotTangoCharlie.
All kidding aside, Tyler is a Renaissance man amongst pilots. I wish I had his future.
Actually, I wish I had his past too. And maybe his eyes. He is a handsome young man.
26 years of age and has already done an extraordinary amount of flying in a variety of aircraft.
Very impressive.
Note: Here forward, he will be referred to as PTC because I don't know what I am about to type and I am a little nervous what direction this is going to go.
Let's begin
Ok so where was I? basketball... Tyler sends a text... Tyler is handsome... Ok I remember now.
I was on call (technically have been for 5 years) which means you buy enough food for the week (read: alcohol) lock yourself inside and stare at the on call phone.
Being on call, I had plans to stay in.
I got on the piratebay.com before the shutdown, and managed to get a copy of the new leaked John and Martha King sex tape: "Useful Load"
Shhhhhhh. Let that soak in for a minute.
Ok, PTC sends a text asking if I have plans for the evening.
I had to remind him that I am a married man and must resist his advances.
He quickly tries to cover by making it about flying.
I look at the on call phone. I look at my phone. Back and forth, again and again.
Both phones go off at the same time. What the hell do I do?
I check the on call phone and see this message: "Bryan we need your assistance urgently! We have a vessel in Dutch Harbor that is waiting on some paper work and the hazardous cargo manifest will not print. The captain is Irate and it costs $6000 every hour the vessel sits! PLEASE RESPOND NOW!!! WE ARE DESPERATE"
I then peer over at my phone and see another message from PTC (Remember who that is?)
It says "Let's get pizza"
PIZZA?????
Surely the folks in Dutch will understand. I mean all they have out there is salmon and one Thai restaurant.
There is no pizza in Dutch Harbor. People there are miserable. All there is to do there is fish, drink, and screw each other. Starting to wonder if my uncle is from there. But still their food options are horrifically limited.
I had an opportunity to have pizza, a pizza to honor the uncles and soon to be uncles in Dutch Harbor.
NOT having pizza would be like throwing dirt in their eyes. ...or probably snow. It would be like throwing snow in their eyes.
Just then it hit me.
A basketball hit me right in the coffee cup which smarts like a mother.
I was going to go over and punch the little kid but then reality set in of what that would mean.
I don't even know how to fight and if I go to the hospital, I can't have pizza.
I just apologized to him for break dancing at mid court during the game.
I then did the centipede back to the bleachers and took a seat, sad and ashamed.
I need to learn to fight.
I sit there thinking about what to do when I get another text. It is from My sister.
"Can your kids have a sleep over tonight with my kids and y'all can have the night off?"
My sister is still in prison but when you get an unsolicited offer like that, you jump on it.
So now I am kid free and I have 3 choices.
1. Flying for Pizza
2. Staying in and watching "Martha's Venturi" (It was a double feature)
3. making sure the folks in Unalaska get their smoked salmon and snow globes into airport gift shops in anchorage as quickly as possible.
I did what anyone would do in this situation.
I uploaded the King's video to a work server and emailed the link to the group in Dutch.
Certainly that would buy me enough time to have dinner and they may all learn a thing or two.
I call Mrs. Papa Charlie and give her the deets (street slang for "details". We are hardcore OG (Street slang for "original gangsta (Street slang for "Gangster")")).
Mrs 6PC says "Pizza? Now you are speaking my language"
I said I think "Pizza is actually an Italian word"
She replies: "So che è italiano . Ora smettere di essere una piccola cagna e lascia andare afferrare una fetta."
I just replied: "Touche" (see its funny because it's French)
Alright Alright.
So we get in PTC's Bonanza and he starts showing me all the glass. He is like "This is the Aspen"
I am not very smart. I will admit that. But I am pretty sure he actually called it an "aspirin"
It looked a lot like an iPhone taped to the panel. Who could really tell the difference?
Then he shows me his Garmin (Clearly just an iPad hot glued to the dash)
I act all impressed to be nice but I am studying for my IR written and he doesn't have any of the instruments the FAA covers on its very modern IR test requirements.
I wasn't at this point even convinced the plane was real. It didn't even have a rudder.
Mrs 6PC is in the back singing a song she invented about Pizza that goes to the tune of the Bonanza theme song.
So she is oblivious to the fact that we are getting inside of PTC's "Plane" which seems to be missing some key features required for flight.
Just to keep the illusion going, he drives this VW out into the run-up area and we all play along.
I hear him talking to "the tower" but I suspect he was saying both parts but just not moving his lips when getting his clearance from the tower.
Next thing I know PTC says "Hey Bryan does this chloroform smell funny to you?"
There I was.
I was at the restaurant feeling dizzy and couldn't really remember how I had gotten there or even where there was.
Mrs 6PC was across from me face down in the middle of a large deep dish but she was breathing and that's how she eats pizza anyway so no real concern.
PTC keeps talking about "The flight" and I play along because I am really starting to feel sad for him.
The elevator on that thing was glued sideways.
I mean at least put in some effort kid.
We eat a lot of Pizza. And it was gooooooood.
Here is where it gets weird (I know right?).
We wrap up dinner and head back to his plane.
I am half convinced we just drove it around to the back of the hangar and hadn't really gone anywhere but as before, I play along.
We get in the plane again, and again, he goes through the motions. The plane is making beeping and buzzing sounds but I have seen the
Police Academy movies and I know what he is up to over there with his mouth hidden behind the mic.
When he wasn't looking, I hid his Chloroform and his bag of rufies.
He was looking around puzzled and I said "alright Pilot, Lets Go fly"
He actually didn't seem fazed by it. hmmmmm.
We get on the runway and he throttles up (cue the dramatic music)
I can feel the plane building power, we start to roll. Faster and faster.
I am being held firmly back in my seat with what felt like the weight of a thousand penguins.
Faster and faster still. The engine revving at 6000 RPM and screaming with all of its mite.
That's when it happened...
PTC tried to kill me.
It’s true. See he realized I had called his bluff this go round so he rigged the door (conveniently on my side) to blow wide open at the point of rotation so he could shove me out of the plane thus ending any chance of me discovering his plan.
Now we are screaming down the runway my headset and hat are blown into the back seat knocking Mrs 6PC unconscious (also part of his plan)
Suddenly I was aware that my face was wet.
I knew that sensation all too well.
You see I mentioned before, my son cries a lot because he is a terrible basketball player.
It was tears.
PTC had broken down and was sobbing uncontrollably there in the left seat.
He realized his plan was foiled and he had in that moment realized he didn't want to continue having to murder people just to keep up the shtick that he was a super pilot.
"Let's stop adding to the pile of bodies right here" I said.
He agreed.
I walked him through aborting the landing and notifying the tower.
The plane came to a stop on taxiway Carlos and we regained our composure.
I gave him a pep talk.
"PTC" I said.
"You know that dream where you are at school but you are in your underwear and everyone else is laughing at you?"
"I have never had that dream" He responded.
I said "I know. It's time you had that dream"
"What do you mean?" he asked
Me: "I mean together, I think you and I can actually get this thing in the air for real."
PTC: "In our underwear?"
Me: "I fear I have confused you. Forget the underwear thing. Look what I am trying to say is no more fake aspens, no more iPads. Let’s work together and fly this thing home."
He cried for about 15 more minutes and Mrs.6PC started to wake up. She was confused and asking questions.
We didn't need the distractions so I gave her a slice of pizza from the togo box and just like a dog with a bone, she got busy trying to bury it under the floor mats and then peed on it to mark it as her own.
So there we were.
Back at the end of the runway we found ourselves working together.
Together we were able to get this thing airborne and aim it sort of toward Texas. I gave him a lot of pointers along the way and I helped him find the airport and we were able to get the plane safely on the ground and back into the hangar.
We said goodbye and he cried a little more.
I was unfazed and stoic as I always am.
We parted ways each with our Pizza.
Mrs 6PC stayed behind curled up in a ball on the floor of the "fauxnanza" as I branded it.
On the way home, I decided I should check in with Dutch Harbor.
I call them and someone picks up I could hear laughter mixed with sadness in the background.
The sound was the perfect combination of joy and dry heaving.
I asked the captain if they wanted me to run the report.
He responded: "Nah, it can wait. We are just about to start the second film. I don't want to miss it. That would ruin my whole doggone day!!"
Life gives us lots of options. Everyday. And while it may not be obvious and whether we choose to see it or not one of those options is always pizza and that's all I'm tryin to say.
In all seriousness, It was a really great experience flying to KOUN with Tyler on an IFR flight plan. I haven't flown much in the last 3 months due to scheduling and that part about not having a plane. I have been studying a lot for IR and Tyler really knows this stuff inside and out. It was cool to watch him implement some of the things I have been studying. Very educational as it always is flying with other pilots and although a door coming open is no biggie, it is certainly shocking when it happens. His reflexes were impressive, aborting the takeoff a second or two before Vr without skipping a beat.
Also, Hideaway Pizza is good stuff!
Thanks for the adventure!
Wait, let's back up a bit.
There I was.
I am at a basketball game watching 7 year olds stumble all over the court like fleet of drunken Six Papa Charlie's.
My son cannot play basketball for crap but I have taught him to draw the foul and he cries a lot anyway so he is a key player.
Where was I?
Oh yes, so I am at the game and in comes a text from PilotTangoCharlie.
All kidding aside, Tyler is a Renaissance man amongst pilots. I wish I had his future.
Actually, I wish I had his past too. And maybe his eyes. He is a handsome young man.
26 years of age and has already done an extraordinary amount of flying in a variety of aircraft.
Very impressive.
Note: Here forward, he will be referred to as PTC because I don't know what I am about to type and I am a little nervous what direction this is going to go.
Let's begin
Ok so where was I? basketball... Tyler sends a text... Tyler is handsome... Ok I remember now.
I was on call (technically have been for 5 years) which means you buy enough food for the week (read: alcohol) lock yourself inside and stare at the on call phone.
Being on call, I had plans to stay in.
I got on the piratebay.com before the shutdown, and managed to get a copy of the new leaked John and Martha King sex tape: "Useful Load"
Shhhhhhh. Let that soak in for a minute.
Ok, PTC sends a text asking if I have plans for the evening.
I had to remind him that I am a married man and must resist his advances.
He quickly tries to cover by making it about flying.
I look at the on call phone. I look at my phone. Back and forth, again and again.
Both phones go off at the same time. What the hell do I do?
I check the on call phone and see this message: "Bryan we need your assistance urgently! We have a vessel in Dutch Harbor that is waiting on some paper work and the hazardous cargo manifest will not print. The captain is Irate and it costs $6000 every hour the vessel sits! PLEASE RESPOND NOW!!! WE ARE DESPERATE"
I then peer over at my phone and see another message from PTC (Remember who that is?)
It says "Let's get pizza"
PIZZA?????
Surely the folks in Dutch will understand. I mean all they have out there is salmon and one Thai restaurant.
There is no pizza in Dutch Harbor. People there are miserable. All there is to do there is fish, drink, and screw each other. Starting to wonder if my uncle is from there. But still their food options are horrifically limited.
I had an opportunity to have pizza, a pizza to honor the uncles and soon to be uncles in Dutch Harbor.
NOT having pizza would be like throwing dirt in their eyes. ...or probably snow. It would be like throwing snow in their eyes.
Just then it hit me.
A basketball hit me right in the coffee cup which smarts like a mother.
I was going to go over and punch the little kid but then reality set in of what that would mean.
I don't even know how to fight and if I go to the hospital, I can't have pizza.
I just apologized to him for break dancing at mid court during the game.
I then did the centipede back to the bleachers and took a seat, sad and ashamed.
I need to learn to fight.
I sit there thinking about what to do when I get another text. It is from My sister.
"Can your kids have a sleep over tonight with my kids and y'all can have the night off?"
My sister is still in prison but when you get an unsolicited offer like that, you jump on it.
So now I am kid free and I have 3 choices.
1. Flying for Pizza
2. Staying in and watching "Martha's Venturi" (It was a double feature)
3. making sure the folks in Unalaska get their smoked salmon and snow globes into airport gift shops in anchorage as quickly as possible.
I did what anyone would do in this situation.
I uploaded the King's video to a work server and emailed the link to the group in Dutch.
Certainly that would buy me enough time to have dinner and they may all learn a thing or two.
I call Mrs. Papa Charlie and give her the deets (street slang for "details". We are hardcore OG (Street slang for "original gangsta (Street slang for "Gangster")")).
Mrs 6PC says "Pizza? Now you are speaking my language"
I said I think "Pizza is actually an Italian word"
She replies: "So che è italiano . Ora smettere di essere una piccola cagna e lascia andare afferrare una fetta."
I just replied: "Touche" (see its funny because it's French)
Alright Alright.
So we get in PTC's Bonanza and he starts showing me all the glass. He is like "This is the Aspen"
I am not very smart. I will admit that. But I am pretty sure he actually called it an "aspirin"
It looked a lot like an iPhone taped to the panel. Who could really tell the difference?
Then he shows me his Garmin (Clearly just an iPad hot glued to the dash)
I act all impressed to be nice but I am studying for my IR written and he doesn't have any of the instruments the FAA covers on its very modern IR test requirements.
I wasn't at this point even convinced the plane was real. It didn't even have a rudder.
Mrs 6PC is in the back singing a song she invented about Pizza that goes to the tune of the Bonanza theme song.
So she is oblivious to the fact that we are getting inside of PTC's "Plane" which seems to be missing some key features required for flight.
Just to keep the illusion going, he drives this VW out into the run-up area and we all play along.
I hear him talking to "the tower" but I suspect he was saying both parts but just not moving his lips when getting his clearance from the tower.
Next thing I know PTC says "Hey Bryan does this chloroform smell funny to you?"
There I was.
I was at the restaurant feeling dizzy and couldn't really remember how I had gotten there or even where there was.
Mrs 6PC was across from me face down in the middle of a large deep dish but she was breathing and that's how she eats pizza anyway so no real concern.
PTC keeps talking about "The flight" and I play along because I am really starting to feel sad for him.
The elevator on that thing was glued sideways.
I mean at least put in some effort kid.
We eat a lot of Pizza. And it was gooooooood.
Here is where it gets weird (I know right?).
We wrap up dinner and head back to his plane.
I am half convinced we just drove it around to the back of the hangar and hadn't really gone anywhere but as before, I play along.
We get in the plane again, and again, he goes through the motions. The plane is making beeping and buzzing sounds but I have seen the
Police Academy movies and I know what he is up to over there with his mouth hidden behind the mic.
When he wasn't looking, I hid his Chloroform and his bag of rufies.
He was looking around puzzled and I said "alright Pilot, Lets Go fly"
He actually didn't seem fazed by it. hmmmmm.
We get on the runway and he throttles up (cue the dramatic music)
I can feel the plane building power, we start to roll. Faster and faster.
I am being held firmly back in my seat with what felt like the weight of a thousand penguins.
Faster and faster still. The engine revving at 6000 RPM and screaming with all of its mite.
That's when it happened...
PTC tried to kill me.
It’s true. See he realized I had called his bluff this go round so he rigged the door (conveniently on my side) to blow wide open at the point of rotation so he could shove me out of the plane thus ending any chance of me discovering his plan.
Now we are screaming down the runway my headset and hat are blown into the back seat knocking Mrs 6PC unconscious (also part of his plan)
Suddenly I was aware that my face was wet.
I knew that sensation all too well.
You see I mentioned before, my son cries a lot because he is a terrible basketball player.
It was tears.
PTC had broken down and was sobbing uncontrollably there in the left seat.
He realized his plan was foiled and he had in that moment realized he didn't want to continue having to murder people just to keep up the shtick that he was a super pilot.
"Let's stop adding to the pile of bodies right here" I said.
He agreed.
I walked him through aborting the landing and notifying the tower.
The plane came to a stop on taxiway Carlos and we regained our composure.
I gave him a pep talk.
"PTC" I said.
"You know that dream where you are at school but you are in your underwear and everyone else is laughing at you?"
"I have never had that dream" He responded.
I said "I know. It's time you had that dream"
"What do you mean?" he asked
Me: "I mean together, I think you and I can actually get this thing in the air for real."
PTC: "In our underwear?"
Me: "I fear I have confused you. Forget the underwear thing. Look what I am trying to say is no more fake aspens, no more iPads. Let’s work together and fly this thing home."
He cried for about 15 more minutes and Mrs.6PC started to wake up. She was confused and asking questions.
We didn't need the distractions so I gave her a slice of pizza from the togo box and just like a dog with a bone, she got busy trying to bury it under the floor mats and then peed on it to mark it as her own.
So there we were.
Back at the end of the runway we found ourselves working together.
Together we were able to get this thing airborne and aim it sort of toward Texas. I gave him a lot of pointers along the way and I helped him find the airport and we were able to get the plane safely on the ground and back into the hangar.
We said goodbye and he cried a little more.
I was unfazed and stoic as I always am.
We parted ways each with our Pizza.
Mrs 6PC stayed behind curled up in a ball on the floor of the "fauxnanza" as I branded it.
On the way home, I decided I should check in with Dutch Harbor.
I call them and someone picks up I could hear laughter mixed with sadness in the background.
The sound was the perfect combination of joy and dry heaving.
I asked the captain if they wanted me to run the report.
He responded: "Nah, it can wait. We are just about to start the second film. I don't want to miss it. That would ruin my whole doggone day!!"
Life gives us lots of options. Everyday. And while it may not be obvious and whether we choose to see it or not one of those options is always pizza and that's all I'm tryin to say.
In all seriousness, It was a really great experience flying to KOUN with Tyler on an IFR flight plan. I haven't flown much in the last 3 months due to scheduling and that part about not having a plane. I have been studying a lot for IR and Tyler really knows this stuff inside and out. It was cool to watch him implement some of the things I have been studying. Very educational as it always is flying with other pilots and although a door coming open is no biggie, it is certainly shocking when it happens. His reflexes were impressive, aborting the takeoff a second or two before Vr without skipping a beat.
Also, Hideaway Pizza is good stuff!
Thanks for the adventure!
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