5/11/09 It's me! I'm the pilot!

This past weekend, Hubby's old squadron hosted a Taxi Fam day. This is where the wives get a chance to put on the guys' flight suits, doll it up a bit, then take the plane out for a spin! The wives got to wear all the real equipment, make the radio calls, and actually steer the plane.

The squadron held nothing back in truly authenticating the experience...a very long brief (safety, safety, blah, blah...let's fly this thing!), a helmet so tight it felt like my brain was being suctioned out, the airplane exhaust fumes floating in through the "air-conditioner," and typical South Texas HOT and WINDY weather. But there's something about wearing a flight suit and military-issued aviators that makes one ignore these hurdles and just enjoy the ride!

Before walking out to the flight line I had to be completely suited up...flight suit, "close-toed shoes, preferably not high heels" (from the information email), ear plugs, gloves, and finally a helmet. Hubby had to hold my hand as he escorted me out to the flightline, then he proceeded to hoist me into the plane and strap me in. With a final thumbs up from Hubby, he jumped off the wing of the plane and the instructor in the front seat began our flight. Actually it was just a ride around the runway, but still...we were moving in a plane which to me equals "flight."

The instructor said that I could make all the radio calls to the tower, so he proceeded to recite what I should call in. After asking him to repeat it 3 or 4 times, I was finally brave enough to make the call. But I just couldn't remember all those numbers and directions! "Line!" The instructor kindly and patiently fed the proper calls to me, we got clearance, and off we went!

As we were flying around the runway, the instructor and I were just having a friendly chat. I got flustered at having to steer the plane and talk to him at the same time and pushed the wrong radio button. Suddenly my one-sided small talk conversation went straight to the tower and every other plane in the vicinity, rather than just the instructor in the front seat. There's no telling what I broadcast to the world. Oops!

Taxi Fam was a fantastic opportunity to literally wear the other guy's pants and see what "a day in the life of Hubby" is like. I now have a better understanding of Hubby's exhaustion when he comes home from a flight and will (probably) stop my friendly teasing of "how can you be so tired when you only worked two hours today?" :)