CEO Of The Cockpit: Time To Face The Change

"And these children that you spit on

 As they try to change their worlds

 Are immune to your consultations

 They're quite aware of what they're going through."

                          David Bowie

My voyage from the then of me being a crusty old airline captain to the now of me being a crusty and older airport bum was filled with gigs at AOPA teaching bored weekend course CFIs, pilot examining for my second airline and flight instructing at various parts 141 flight schools and single-airplane Champ and Cub academies.

Sitting in a booth at one of the last real general aviation lunchroom/burger joints, I find myself reflective as I gaze over a ramp filled with airplanes that I used to fly in high school almost half a century ago. Nobody can afford a new aircraft these days, but that may be because the cost of a 50-year-old Skyhawk is about equal to four years at Harvard.

My onion rings were a little soggy, but they were salty enough and were guaranteed to extinguish my "low grease" level light. I gazed past them and over my cheeseburger to view an old classmate from my brown hair days when I began airline flight.

Jeff had scoffed at the law of gravity and flown his RV-10 in for our lunch date. He was sharper, fitter and a way better pilot than I was or am. He was also my roommate when we were new hires. I never would have made it through that first initial school without his help.

We shared a history of flying three-engine Boeings, laying over in seedy places and drinking too much at various dollar buffets during happy hours when we had the money for beer but not food.

"Things have changed," he said.

Yeah, I know, I said. They used to have ketchup bottles in this joint and now only have those stupid packets.

"Not what I mean," he continued while he dipped his last saltine into his chili. "I mean, the world of flying has changed, and I don't recognize it anymore. It seems like the world we flew in has gone crazy or has at least taken the fun stuff out and thrown it away."

Give me some examples, but could you flag the waitress before you do that?  I'm going to need more coffee for this.

The signal for a refill was given, and he began to list some of the things he missed from what boomers like us like to call the "good old days."

He detailed the usual stuff about pilots no longer piloting via the expert use of stick and rudder. Especially rudder. He wondered aloud why manufacturers still put rudder pedals in new airplanes since nobody seems to use them or know what they are for.

Jeff then listed grievances that included the lack of decent ramp service, the spread of self-serve gas pumps that never seem to work and the razor wire chain-link fences around airports that seem to be growing faster than the national debt. 

He finished by wondering why they built all that impressive fence and then usually left the gates open. 

I wondered if Jeff was getting grumpier than me. That sounds impossible, but he is six months older than me and deeper into incipient geezer-hood. 

My plate was cleared away by the restaurant staff during Jeff's diatribe, so it left me room to sip my coffee and fling my arms around as I presented him with a counterargument.

OK, my friend, I began. I acknowledge all the complaints you listed in your harangue, but I have a short list that will convince you that even though we are apparently out of touch, things haven't really changed in our world of flying.

"Well," Jeff said, "If you convince me, I'll pay for lunch."

A challenge worth my time! Here is my list: 

Jeff grabbed the lunch check and headed to the cash register.