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Radio Interference

I rather imagined a pilot with a large round knob jutting from the back of his skull where all knowledge of mechanical things that fly is stored. Both a curse and blessing at the same time.

It would also explain the fascination with the H line, bearing a companionship with things tail heavy.
 
I grew up poorer than sterile dirt in a single parent household where the one parent was half of what should have been. If I wanted something I had to work to earn the money to buy it. Even then there wasn’t enough money to buy new and perfect, just enough to buy used and flawed. If it was going to work I had to learn how to fix it well enough to function. Many lessons were learned “the hard way”. I suppose all that paved the road that led to a drive for more learning experiences.

Somehow a lot of those things came together to end up in a career usually reserved for those with considerably more scholastic accomplishment. Then again, from as far back as I can remember I was fascinated with things that fly, and am to this day.

Somewhere around the age of 6-8 my grandparents took me to the state fair where a guy was giving helicopter rides in a “no door” Bell 47 for $5.00. An enormous sum at the time for our station in life. They paid for my ride, I was terrified for the duration, but I was hooked for life.

Looking back, I can only imagine how much easier it would have been had I discovered the lure of the opposite gender after high school instead of before. There would have been a lot more money available for productive activities instead of dealing with the after effects of reproductive...[emoji849][emoji37]

My apologies for the moment of introspection.
 
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