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Logo by Stefan Strasser





In the Age of the 707....

>       Those were the good ole
> days. Pilots back then
>       were men that didn't want to be women or girly
> men. Pilots all knew who
>       Jimmy Doolittle was. Pilots drank coffee, whiskey,
> smoked cigars and
>       didn't wear digital watches.
>       They carried their own
> suitcases and brain bags
>       like the real men that they were. Pilots didn't
> bend over into the crash
>       position multiple times each day in front of the
> passengers at security so
>       that some Gov't agent could probe for tweezers or
> fingernail clippers or
>       too much toothpaste.
>       Pilots did not go through
> the terminal
>       impersonating a caddy pulling a bunch of golf clubs,
> computers, guitars,
>       and feed bags full of tofu and granola on a
> sissy-trailer with no hat and
>       granny glasses hanging on a pink string around their
> pencil neck while
>       talking to their personal trainer on the cell
> phone!!!
>       Being an Airline Captain
> was as good as being the
>       King in a Mel Brooks movie. All the Stewardesses
> (aka. Flight Attendants)
>       were young, attractive, single women that were proud
> to be combatants in
>       the sexual revolution. They didn't have to turn
> sideways, grease up and
>       suck it in to get through the cockpit door. They
> would blush and say thank
>       you when told that they looked good, instead of
> filing a sexual harassment
>       claim. Junior Stewardesses shared a room and talked
> about men.... with no
>       thoughts of substitution.
>       Passengers wore nice
> clothes and were polite,
>       they could speak AND understand English. They
> didn't speak gibberish or
>       listen to loud gangsta rap on their IPods. They
> bathed and didn't smell
>       like a rotting pile of garbage in a jogging suit and
> flip-flops. Children
>       didn't travel alone, commuting between trailer
> parks. There were no
>       mongolhordes asking for a seatbelt extension or a
> Scotch and grapefruit
>       juice cocktail with a twist.
>       If the Captain wanted to
> throw some offensive,
>       ranting jerk off the airplane, it was done without
> any worries of a
>       lawsuit or getting fired.
>       Axial flow engines
> crackled with the sound of
>       freedom and left an impressive black smoke trail like
> a locomotive burning
>       soft coal. Jet fuel was cheap and once the throttles
> were pushed up they
>       were left there, after all it was the jet age and the
> idea was to go fast
>       (run like a lizard on a hardwood floor). Economy
> cruise was something in
>       the performance book, but no one knew why or where it
> was. When the
>       clacker went off no one got all tight and scared
> because Boeing built it
>       out of iron, nothing was going to fall off and that
> sound had the same
>       effect on real pilots then as Viagra does now for
> those new age guys.
>       There was very little
> plastic and no composites
>       on the airplanes or the Stewardesses' pectoral
> regions. Airplanes and
>       women had eye pleasing symmetrical curves, not a
> bunch of ugly vortex
>       generators, ventral fins, winglets, flow diverters,
> tatoos, rings in their
>       nose, tongues and eyebrows.
>       Airlines were run by men
> like C.R. Smith and Juan
>       Trippe who had built their companies virtually from
> scratch, knew many of
>       their employees by name and were lifetime airline
> employees
>       themselves...not pseudo financiers and bean counters
> who flit from one
>       occupation to another for a few bucks, a better
> parachute or a fancier
>       title, while fervently believing that they are a
> class of beings unto
>       themselves.
>       And so it was back
> then....and never will be
>       again!

                                                                    Author unknown

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