My brother, Larry, called from the airport in Lantana, Florida. “Hey, Sis, wait ’til you hear about my new flight student. You’ve never had one like him. Everybody said he’d be impossible to teach, but he’s a real natural.”
“I’m guessing he’s a doctor or lawyer. Their egos usually make them difficult to teach.”
“Nope, he used to be an accountant—had to retire after an auto accident. Now he wants some excitement in his life.”
“Are you teaching him in one of your airplanes?”
“We’re flying my powered parachute.”
“Right, the one that looks like a cross between a dune buggy and an airboat. Why not use an airplane?”
“He wants to avoid all the FAA regulations associated with airplanes.”
“Is that code for not passing the pilot physical?”
“Yeah, he’d never pass the vision test, but he has an uncanny feel for the aircraft.”
“Well, I guess his vision doesn’t need to be 20/20. There aren’t any instruments to read anyway.”
“Some pilots install an altimeter and an RPM gauge, but they’re not necessary.”
“Do you intend to sell him a powered parachute when he finishes his lessons?”
“No, his wife would pitch a fit. She doesn’t approve of his flight training. If she had her way, he’d never leave the house.”
“So I guess he’ll rent yours whenever he feels the urge to fly.”
“No, he’s just aiming for a spot in The Guinness Book of World Records.”
“Doing what?”
“One solo flight.”
“Clearly there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Oh yeah, did I mention he’s blind? Lost his sight in the auto accident.”
“Blind! Have you lost your mind?”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. He flies by the seat of his pants, smooth as butter. I talk him through the landings, and he greases it on.”
“Yeah, but you won’t be with him when he solos. He’ll literally be flying blind!”
“I have that covered. I’ll talk him down on radio headsets.”
“Gee, what could possibly go wrong? Radios are soooo reliable.”
“He’ll have his cell phone as a backup. It’s just one flight. Think of it. A boring little accountant will go down in history as the only blind person ever to fly solo.”
“Oh, he’ll go down all right, and your flight instructor and pilot licenses will go down with him. This has to be the dumbest thing ever!”
“Now you sound like his wife. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
“It’s just that I know how much you love flying. I’d hate to see you risk your career so some fool can get in the record books.”
“I’d hate to crush his dream.”
“So send him on a fake solo flight.”
“He’d sense my presence.”
“I’m not suggesting a real flight. Mount the rig on big springs, strap him in, fire up the engine, and let him think he’s flying solo. Anchor the rig and aim a big fan at him. With the engine powered up behind him and the headset on, he won’t hear the fan. He’ll feel the wind in his face like he did during his lessons. Give the rig occasional bumps and jolts for realism. Talk to him on the radio like it’s really happening. He’ll experience the thrill of a lifetime, and you won’t risk your career. Problem solved.”
“But then he won’t get in the record book.”
“And you won’t go down in history as the world’s dumbest flight instructor.”
“Sis, you worry too much.”
“Uh huh. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve tried to save your sorry ass.”
“Yeah, well my intrepid ass has succeeded plenty of times where cowardly asses feared to tread.”
“Yes, but not this time. A Guinness representative will need to witness the flight. The scheduled blind solo will be reported to the media, and the authorities will shut you down and yank your pilot certificates before you start the engine.”
“His wife’s walking him over here now. It’s time for his last lesson. I’ll think about it and call you back later. Bye, Sis.”
The next day, as I tapped away on my laptop and enjoyed the view from the deck of the Hilton on Singer Island, I answered my cell. “Hello, brother dear, how’s it going with your blind student?”
“Not so good. He was feeling cocky after his final lesson yesterday, so when he got home, he took their rider mower for a little test drive. His wife ran behind him yelling for him to stop, but he gunned it and ended up in the deep end of their swimming pool. Now she has him heavily sedated. Guess his glory days are over.”
“Maybe not. Give her a call and explain my fake solo plan. The flight might be even more convincing if you do it before his meds wear off. Tell his wife it’s a safe way to satisfy his thirst for adventure, and tell him you can’t include Guinness because the FAA would find out and end your pilot career. If she refuses, he’ll always resent her. My plan is a win for both of them with no risk to your licenses.”
“Good idea, Sis. I’ll set it up. The sweet old guy deserves his shot at glory.”
“Great. Call me when you’re ready, and I’ll help you. I’d hate to miss a chance to make a blind aviator happy.”
I wish I could report that we accomplished the fake solo flight, but the blind man’s wife vetoed our plan. In fact, she threatened to sue my brother if he ever contacted her husband again.
Oh well, I think all men are a little crazy, but at least Larry had good intentions.