In the age of the 707 / DC8 / 727 / DC9
Those were the good ole days. Pilots back then were men that didn't want
to be women or girlymen. 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 harrassment 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
'mu-fuggin' 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 overspeed
clacker went off no one got all tight and scared because Boeing/Douglas
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
symetrical 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 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.
AMEN
Those were the good ole days. Pilots back then were men that didn't want
to be women or girlymen. 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 harrassment 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
'mu-fuggin' 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 overspeed
clacker went off no one got all tight and scared because Boeing/Douglas
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
symetrical 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 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.
AMEN
Here's to the heady days of rampant pollution and flagrant womanizing while functionally intoxicated: the eternal victims of bureaucratic paranoia.
Doc
