around our hangars. Being retired, I
keep mine well mowed. My hangar
neighbor, Tom, still works. We call
those who are still working WUSs
(working underage stiffs) and SAWs
(still accepting wages). They call us
ROCs (retired old codgers) and ROFs
(retired old fogeys). Still, Tom regularly mows his grass, except for once
when he must have been on a trip. So
someone mowed a ‘T’ and an ‘S’ (his
initials) in his grass. I got a note on my
door for that one, but what I want to
know is, how did he know it was me?
He has lots of other nefarious friends!
This next story is about group participation; feel free to chime in. Picture
this: I have a photo of a guy—we’ll
just call him ‘that guy’—standing in
front of my airplane with his left arm
thrust into the air intake of my cowling. ‘That guy’ is wearing a baseball
cap, shirt, short pants, and shoes with
black socks—airport fashion. In his
right hand, he’s holding a soft drink
cup. I offered the picture for an airport
caption contest. Here’s what I got:
“This feels like just the spark plug
I need.”
“If I don’t get my arm unstuck
pretty soon, I’m going to have to use
this cup.”
“These baffles are baffling.”
“One fin, two fins, three fins,
four.”
“Push, pull, or get out of the way.”
“My hand was cold.”
“Compression’s good.”
“I’m not taking questions at this
time.”
“A predicament that will live in
infamy.”
“Are there any apple fritters in
here?”
Given the banner results from the
photo caption contest, I’m consider-
ing building a flux capacitor, like the
one Dr. Emmett Brown built in the
movie Back to the Future. Except, I pro-
pose using just “hangar bum” advice
and parts. Can you imagine? I have
an old lawn mower motor to donate.
Given the “expertise” and parts avail-
able at the airport, I know we can
build something special. Stay tuned!
