I am a pilot

OK I admit it. I have been taking flying lessons for the past many months. I passed my exam a little over a month ago and I am now officially a licensed Private Pilot (as opposed to Commercial etc.) here in the US. I can legally fly an "ASEL" i.e. Airplane (i.e. not a glider, helicopter etc.) Single Engine (not multi-engine) Land (not sea i.e. airplane that can operate from the water). I am a PP-ASEL.

I didn't disclose it on this blog because
a) I didn't want my mother to know about it and wanted to surprise her when she came to visit me
b) isn't the above a good enough reason?

I deliberately didn't inform her when I started my lessons because I knew of her objections
a) It is too dangerous
b) It is too expensive

I am glad to say it is neither, but then my family wouldn't say I understand the concept of danger anyway. I don't know if they think I am a responsible spender either. I therefore decided to present this as a fait accompli.

I had told my father and my brother, the former with the same outlook towards "dangerous" activities as mine and the latter who is generally eminently disinterested in such matters. He'd much rather build a successful website.

My mother however did find out about it. I scanned my new license and emailed it to my father and brother forgetting that my mother is usually the one who checks my father's email. One day of arguing, and two days of not talking later, I finally convinced my mother that this was nothing to be ashamed about. I am glad to report that she finally thinks I am a decent human being, though just barely.

What is it like to fly? I believe I am normally an articulate person. However, words fail me for the most part when I describe the feeling of flight. The result is another blog that hasn't been updated in a long time. I will give up trying because one poem - a classic in aviation circles - tells you everything. It is beautiful for those who are earthbound, and it is sublime for those who fly for they have felt these verses.

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

of sun-split clouds, —and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,

I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air....

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace

Where never lark nor even eagle flew—

And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

- John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

It is true, I feel a peace when I am flying that I have never felt so far.

It is also true that this has turned me, generally a cynic, into an incurable romantic that embarrasses even me sometimes.

With that, I don't have to explain to anyone why I fly. I wish God gives me the strength and the means to do it until my body fails.