No wind when I got home tonight, so took my little yellow plane out flying. Went to a football field across the street. A WIDE open football field. With two goal posts. Of course in all this HUGE, WIDE OPEN SPACE, I flew the plane directly into one of the goal posts. Goal posts, I learned, have a tendency to NOT move when hit by little, plastic planes. The plane moved, however, in about a thousand different directions. Glued the thousand pieces back together. And tried to get one more flight in for the night. Didn't notice that the wind had picked-up. IT FLEW!!! And it kept flying. Away. Far, far away. I lost sight of it. It's gone. I don't think this will be a case of "Lassie Come Home." It probably doesn't remember where I live. Hell I don't even remember where I live half the time.Farewell little yellow plane. Sorry about the goal post thing. Be free.
2 comments:
Can one assume that this was not a radio control type of plane? Also,(and this is just a thought of mine after one beer and a glass of wine), do you think maybe you need to give this up as a hobby?
One would be assuming incorrectly - this WAS a radio-controlled device. Or a least it was SUPPOSED to be. Operator error. And no, I can't quit until this obsession has run its course. (It's a hell of a lot of fun!)
I can see it now, "Hi, my name's Rick, I'm a plane-oholic. This is my first P.A. meeting."
"Hi, Rick. Keep coming back."
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