Non pilot friends and crash articles.

My parents ask if they can have all my money if I die right before I leave for a trip.
 
This "prophet of doom syndrome" is an affliction that anyone who does anything out of the "norm" (whatever the heck that is) has to deal with, forever.
It never stops.
Not ever.
In the days of my youth, I used to be a rock climber. I haven't climbed anything significant in, probably, over a decade.
Yet well meaning idiots, I mean friends, STILL rag on me about it. "You could have gotten killed!" Yeah, what's your point?
Every time I take the motorcycle out, Someone has something to say. I've been riding motos since I was 12. Yeah one of these days my luck will run out.I'm going to make one hell of a hood ornament, someday, maybe.
My Mom was TERRIFIED of small planes. She used to wake up screaming in the night, dreaming my Dad was killed flying small planes. Because of that, I never told ANYONE, I had a pilots license. I went 3 towns or more away to take lessons, and farther than that to rent them.
I never told my parents, wife, kids, or anyone else in my extended family that I was flying missions in SEA. One APO address looked like every other APO address to a civilian.
When I re-enlisted in 2012, and it all came out, I got 40 years of grief over it all at once. "You could have gotten killed!" Yeah. Well I didn't. (I finally had to confess to Mom. Good thing I'm too old to spank.)
But flying. O.M.G.
I feel like that woman in the movie, "Airplane" where everyone lines up to ***** slap her.
"You're going to get KILLED!!!!", "You're going to DIE!!!"
You're probably right. But it won't be from boredom, you sniveling, sanctimonious candyass. (OK I don't actually say that. But sometimes I want to.)
Anywho, the point of all this is that it used to torque me off to get lectured all the time on my mental, moral and ethical lapses.
Now it's just amusing.
And when it finally happens, when my luck runs out, or the weather, or mechanical failure, or just plain old physical decrepitude finally catches up with me, they can all feel smug and superior and tell each other "We told him! We told him it was stupid."
And I won't care. Not one jot.
 
The fun ones are when it really is you.

BTDT.

You all think you get calls. Dealing with a few doctors and nurses that made some references drew some of my Italian out. Most have been compassionate and caring during our recovery.

Friends and family have suggested taking up a new hobby. The best one is when people ask if we plan to fly again, the looks are priceless. Mary and I haven’t discussed the future of flight, yet. I’m sure at some point we will make that decision.
 
Question: How can you figure out which person at a party is a pilot?
Answer: He'll tell you.

Quit telling people you fly and you won't get asked about crashes anymore.
 
Question: How can you figure out which person at a party is a pilot?
Answer: He'll tell you.

"Son, never ask a man if he's a pilot. If he is, he'll tell you within 5 minutes. If he's not, well you don't want to embarrass a grown man."
 
Me too and I wasn’t saying they actually are fun... you know the opposite of fun. I was being sarcastic.

I know. Actually some of the conversations afterwards can be kind fun, though... o_O
 
My father will send links or ask questions. He’s looking on what happened and the story behind it. If there is a new episode of Air Emergencies you can bet he’ll be calling endlessly till I walk over and watch the episode with them.
 
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