I often wish I was born in another "aviation time", at the dawn of it's growth, when the shenzi rubanis of the Aeropostale flew over the Andes without oxygen, criss-crossed the Atlantic and flew 100ft over the Sahara. When everything in aviation was romantic. Hence why there's nothing better once in a while to dive back into one of Saint-Exupery book like Night Flight or Wind, Sand and Stars or Flight to Arras. Same with the pilot of the US Mail, man, those barn-stormers were romantic heroes, hydrating on Jack Daniel. Good ol' epoque.
Well just to say that today, in 108 years, things have changed a looooooooooooot. Not only the Chinese went in space yesterday but I drove to O'Hare at 6 o'clock in the morning, flew to Las Vegas, on time for a 10:30 a.m. meeting, went on having more meetings, do some business and flew back at 5 p.m. out of McCarran Interational, picked up my car at the Bulls leve of O'Hare 1-day parking and was home by midnight. So simple. Some not romantic at all. So boring (luckily Steve Jobs got me the Ipod to pass time, listen to podcast and music while browsing through my countless aviation/mountain-bike/motocross/Wired/Conde Nast Portfolio magazines.
I wish I was born in a time to be one of those Aeropostale pilots. Hey, but 2008 isn't too bad neither.
You know what's happening this weekend? It's Motocross des Nations again. In England. Go Team USA!!!!
