top
log-in
David Goldin
October 2010
Unaccompanied Minor
posted:

 35,000 ft in the air, I run out of the cockpit, uphill through first class,  
the plane is beginning to dive. I'm 10 years old on my way from New York to stay with my Uncle,
a Nuclear Physicist working in Los Alamos, New Mexico.

"Stay out of trouble!" I'm told for the hundredth time as I check in. I'm flying alone.
The previous school year I spent every day in detention. 

" Welcome aboard young man."  It looks like it's going to be a good flight.
Ten is an awesome age to be. You are who you're going to be in life... ...before hormones start raging.

The flight starts out good, people are nice to me, John Denver is playing on the inflight radio, blue skies... and I manage to behave... for a short while...

"Is that issue #32 where Jughead and Reggie get caught wearing prom dresses?"
The stewardesses like me and keep bringing me things like pilot wings, playing cards, drinks, they sit with me and chat.  ... then I break out the Malted Milk Balls.

One by one they join me and we gorge ourselves on Malted Milk Balls together. " Get these out of here - we have no will power."
Stewardesses at this date in time have strict weight policies and retiring age is 32 yrs. old.  They're young, starving and hot.
 

The stewardess sitting next to me decides I have to meet the pilot and see the cockpit. We walk up the aisle and knock on the door at the front of the plane.

Next thing we're having a little party; the pilot, co-pilot and a few stewardesses and me, stuffing our faces with Malted Milk Balls and joking around. Nobody is paying attention to anything but the deliciousness of the exquisite Malted confections.

We fly straight into a thunderhead...  lightning strikes the plane.
Lights flash, warning sounds are beeping and the plane begins to drop.

"Get him out of here!" the pilot screams as he tries to regain control of the plane.
 I run out of the cockpit, up the aisle and buckle myself into my seat in coach.

The plane feels like it is falling out of the sky. Sh*t in your pants scary.
Drinks spill, things get tossed, over-head compartments open, things fall out.
I manage to not drop a single Malted Milk Ball.
 

The plane recovers, an announcement apologizes for the turbulence, and we glide into a beautiful blue sky landing in Albuquerque.

Exiting the plane the pilot and co-pilot are smiling and nodding like a couple of bobble-heads. I give them the last two Malted Milk Balls. My uncle is there waiting for me. We have to stop by his Nuclear Laboratory on the way home.
That's a place I could get into REAL trouble.
 
Happy Birthday Señor Flaherty
posted:
The Birthday Boy

Happy Bithday Flaherty!
Recent Articles
Topics
Archive

avec des objets (8)

The Wurst Story (2)

Bully (4)

King Crossword (8)

The mixed up files of David W. Goldin (13)
Goldin is teaching at TutorMill, an online mentoring site for students of illustration!