Shepherd
Final Approach
Had my physical today.
No problem, no sweat.
Except as I'm walking across the parking lot I run a cross a guy I've run into at various airports over the years.
He sees me coming, he stops short and the first words out of his mouth:
Him: "I thought you were dead!"
Me: "Say what?!!?"
Him: "I thought you were dead."
Me: "I don't think so, but I'm usually the last person to find out these things."
I go into the doctors office, walk up to the window, and the beautiful and talented Sari looks up at me and exclaims: "I thought you were dead!"
Now I'm starting to worry. Is this like a 'Twilight Zone' episode or something.
Sari comes bursting through the door and hugs me. Trust me, it's suddenly worth being dead.
Sari: "Seriously, I heard you were killed in a plane crash."
Me: "Didn't you think it was odd a dead guy was on the schedule for an FAA physical?"
Sari: (pointing around the room) "Have you seen some of these guys in here? Most of them could pass for dead most days of the week"
(I really love this girl. She really is beautiful, smart, funny, and if I was single and forty years younger....sigh)
Now this is getting a little bit funny.
One of the other guys sitting there, another acquaintance, one of the living dead that Sari pointed out chimes in: "Yeah, I heard you augered in back in August or September."
By this time Dr. Tom comes out and want's to know what all the commotion is.
Dr. Tom: "I heard you were dead."
Me: "Do I look dead?"
Dr. Tom: "Hard to tell. Can you pay me?"
Me: (digging out my credit card) "Sure."
Dr Tom: "You look alive enough, come on back"
I go through and Sari and four other guys waiting for physicals follow me in. This has now gone way beyond weird.
It occurs to me I should probably try to get to the bottom of this.
Me: "So how did I die, and how did you find out about it."
Sari chimes in: "Jack was in here last week and told us you were doing snap rolls in a J3 Cub, and the wing came off. He said by the time they got the fire out there was nothing left of the plane."
I think for a minute. It hurts and I think maybe what's left of my hair started burning from the strain.
Then I start to giggle.
Then I start to laugh.
Finally I'm laughing so hard the tears are running down my face. I can't breath. My fingers and lips are turning blue and even though I am in imminent danger of REALLY dying, I can't stop laughing.
It takes me a full ten minutes to stop, then I look at all the quizzical looks, and I start all over again.
Dr Tom: "Well you obviously failed the psychological portion of the exam. Want to just give up and go quietly?"
Jack is an old pilot friend from way back in the day. He is also a member of the Radio Control club I belong to.
And yes I did tear the wing off a Cub while doing rudder rolls and barrel rolls, etc, and yes the plane hit the ground and burned completely, including 'mini-Shep' in the cockpit. It was a 1/4 SCALE Cub.
So we all had a good laugh.
I got a second hug from Sari, and a stern warning not to kill myself for real. It was worth it.
And now I have my new medical, and I'm looking for a decent (even if it's cold) day to get out and fly the Cub again before rumors of my death reach Great Barrington.
They have a strict rule there, against letting dead guys fly their planes.
Oh, and I've developed this weird habit of looking at mirrors to make sure I still have a reflection. I'm sure it will pass.
No problem, no sweat.
Except as I'm walking across the parking lot I run a cross a guy I've run into at various airports over the years.
He sees me coming, he stops short and the first words out of his mouth:
Him: "I thought you were dead!"
Me: "Say what?!!?"
Him: "I thought you were dead."
Me: "I don't think so, but I'm usually the last person to find out these things."
I go into the doctors office, walk up to the window, and the beautiful and talented Sari looks up at me and exclaims: "I thought you were dead!"
Now I'm starting to worry. Is this like a 'Twilight Zone' episode or something.
Sari comes bursting through the door and hugs me. Trust me, it's suddenly worth being dead.
Sari: "Seriously, I heard you were killed in a plane crash."
Me: "Didn't you think it was odd a dead guy was on the schedule for an FAA physical?"
Sari: (pointing around the room) "Have you seen some of these guys in here? Most of them could pass for dead most days of the week"
(I really love this girl. She really is beautiful, smart, funny, and if I was single and forty years younger....sigh)
Now this is getting a little bit funny.
One of the other guys sitting there, another acquaintance, one of the living dead that Sari pointed out chimes in: "Yeah, I heard you augered in back in August or September."
By this time Dr. Tom comes out and want's to know what all the commotion is.
Dr. Tom: "I heard you were dead."
Me: "Do I look dead?"
Dr. Tom: "Hard to tell. Can you pay me?"
Me: (digging out my credit card) "Sure."
Dr Tom: "You look alive enough, come on back"
I go through and Sari and four other guys waiting for physicals follow me in. This has now gone way beyond weird.
It occurs to me I should probably try to get to the bottom of this.
Me: "So how did I die, and how did you find out about it."
Sari chimes in: "Jack was in here last week and told us you were doing snap rolls in a J3 Cub, and the wing came off. He said by the time they got the fire out there was nothing left of the plane."
I think for a minute. It hurts and I think maybe what's left of my hair started burning from the strain.
Then I start to giggle.
Then I start to laugh.
Finally I'm laughing so hard the tears are running down my face. I can't breath. My fingers and lips are turning blue and even though I am in imminent danger of REALLY dying, I can't stop laughing.
It takes me a full ten minutes to stop, then I look at all the quizzical looks, and I start all over again.
Dr Tom: "Well you obviously failed the psychological portion of the exam. Want to just give up and go quietly?"
Jack is an old pilot friend from way back in the day. He is also a member of the Radio Control club I belong to.
And yes I did tear the wing off a Cub while doing rudder rolls and barrel rolls, etc, and yes the plane hit the ground and burned completely, including 'mini-Shep' in the cockpit. It was a 1/4 SCALE Cub.
So we all had a good laugh.
I got a second hug from Sari, and a stern warning not to kill myself for real. It was worth it.
And now I have my new medical, and I'm looking for a decent (even if it's cold) day to get out and fly the Cub again before rumors of my death reach Great Barrington.
They have a strict rule there, against letting dead guys fly their planes.
Oh, and I've developed this weird habit of looking at mirrors to make sure I still have a reflection. I'm sure it will pass.