by Judy Card<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The story depicted here is based on a true situation that evolved on a typical summer Sunday at Georgetown Airport. A few facts have been altered to protect the guilty; the innocent have no such need and can stand on their own to tell their story.
OK, that jumps the disclaimer hurdle. Let\u2019s move on to the introductions. Since we\u2019re the story tellers, we get to call ourselves whatever we want, and more importantly, we get to call the other guys whatever we want, too. Y\u2019all saw the term \u201cMorons\u201d in the title? (Pardon that digression.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We\u2019re the 2fers; we\u2019re 2 fer the road \u2013 uh \u2013 skies, 2 pilots, 2 best friends, 2 kindred spirits \u2013 you get the picture. They\u2019re the Morons, but they obviously don\u2019t know it, so for our purposes here we\u2019re gonna call \u2018em Mooney and Bonanza. Now, we\u2019re pretty sure it\u2019s bad story telling form to put the moral of the piece first, but just in case you\u2019re not interested in the particulars of the 2fers vs. Mooney and Bonanza, here are some applicable moral statements you might want to review: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you (from your Sunday School class,) You reap what you sow (from your grandma\u2019s storehouse of moral guidance,) Money can\u2019t buy you love (from the Beatles,) or in the case of morons it can\u2019t buy you horse sense either (from the 2fers,) A careless pilot might not live long and prosper (from Mr. Spock,) and finally, A pilot who ignores good manners and airport protocol risks accumulating bad Karma and being publicly lampooned! ( from the 2fers \u201cDon\u2019t let it be you\u201d file.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If you\u2019re mentally and spiritually secure in the above teachings and don\u2019t have any interest in this little walk-on in the long running human comedy, then go ahead, power up and take off. Blue skies! If on the other hand, you\u2019re like most of the rest of us and need a little reminder from time to time of how to act and why it\u2019s important, then read on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Now, we 2fers like to live and let live; we do our own thing and respect your right to do yours. We do what we can to help out here and there, but we sure don\u2019t pretend to be perfect, and we\u2019re not the be-all and the end-all of airport etiquette. The thing is, somehow stars aligned and cosmic events moved us along the space\/time continuum such that we were thrust into those few yards surrounding the gas pumps at Georgetown Airport with \u2013 you guessed it \u2013 Mooney and Bonanza. Right there, when our existence and theirs intersected, we began an 18 minute object lesson in the importance of all the aforementioned morals of the story. We\u2019re passing that lesson on to you here, so you can learn from this example and avoid being a mo— a Mooney or a Bonanza \u2013 so to speak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was late Sunday morning, temp already 95 degrees. We were due to meet some friends for lunch at the diner on the Brenham airfield, so we filed an IFR flight plan but didn\u2019t much think we\u2019d need it. As we taxied away from our hangar, we headed in the direction of the gas pumps to top up before flight. At this moment we\u2019re still a couple of happy-go-lucky ignorant fools as yet unchastened by the Universe. We\u2019re just looking forward to a pleasant little flight followed by some genial RV camaraderie over a high fat, high calorie lunch. But \u2013 not so fast suckers, the ethereal guardians of proper airport conduct and protocol are about to drive home an important point.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Pulling out onto the main road we can see the gas pumps, and that sight should have sounded the first little warning bells that we were soon to enter a MORON ZONE. What did we see, you ask, that should have served as our proverbial \u201ccanary in the coal mine?\u201d We saw a Mooney at the left pump and a Bonanza V tail at the right. So what? Perhaps the reader is aware of the admonition, \u201cAlways point your chicken into the wind.\u201d Indeed neither mo— chicken was facing the wind. To be fair, the winds were light, and we were still blissfully unaware of the 18 minutes that awaited us at those pumps. We taxied on down, put our own tail feathers in the wind, and positioned our bird so we could go left or right depending on which mo— plane left first.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Now Bonanza had completed his fueling and gotten back in his cockpit before we arrived at the pumps. Mooney was just putting the hose back; oh good, fueling complete. Nobody\u2019s moving yet, and we\u2019re still pretty much sitting there dumb and happy, although, as several minutes tick by, the interior of our little plane is rapidly taking on the qualities of a super heated steam bath. Bonanza still has his cockpit door open, and \u2013 what\u2019s this? Mooney leaves his airplane smack in front of the pump and saunters into the terminal building. Is he kidding? We know our RV is small, but is it possible that someone who can pass the physical required to maintain a pilot\u2019s license CAN\u2019T SEE A WHOLE AIRPLANE parked directly behind him obviously waiting to get gas???<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Let\u2019s take just a few lines here while we\u2019re waiting on Mooney to get back to comment on the Beatles\u2019 moral, \u201cMoney can\u2019t buy you love.\u201d This is a generally accepted universal truth that\u2019s simple, clear, and obvious to most of us; the mo—- people who have the most trouble understanding it are the ones who think they\u2019re at the top of their little pecking order. Both Mooney and Bonanza have expensive, complex, high performance airplanes, no question about it. And just as owners of high priced cars often tend to display bad road manners, these guys are letting us know how contemptuous they are of our little RV by rendering us invisible. We\u2019re out here burning gas, running up our engine temp, sweltering in the midday heat, and wondering why we didn\u2019t just get the gas in Brenham. Out here in gas pump limbo we\u2019re starting to lose our equanimity. This \u201clet them eat cake\u201d attitude didn\u2019t work in the French Revolution and it\u2019s not working here either. You see, here\u2019s the thing, despite our discomfort, impatience, and yes, flare of anger, we 2fers know that, unlike Mooney and Bonanza, we enjoy a richness they\u2019ll never know. We built our plane; we put our whole selves into it through long, tedious, joyous hours. It\u2019s our art, and part of our lives are in it. We\u2019re both the luthier and the guitarist; we made the instrument, and we get to play it, and that my friends, you cannot put a price on. So, while these guys are busy ignoring us, we\u2019re really OK with our place in our own pecking order. Still \u2013 it\u2019s getting hotter\u2019n Hades out here! AHH, Mooney returns from the terminal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
By now we\u2019ve had a while to scrutinize the pump area. Bonanza still has his door open; he has removed the chock in front of his nose gear but left the one in back of it. When he leaves, this will become a piece of FOD (foreign object debris;) this is not only inconsiderate and bad form, it\u2019s potentially dangerous. Let us refer you to Dr. Spock\u2019s moral, \u201cA careless pilot might not live long and prosper,\u201d second only to the Golden Rule in this case. We call him on ground control frequency and ask for his time frame on clearing the pump area. No response. The ground controller calls him; his radio must not be on. We continue to sit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At about minute 15 of our wait, Bonanza closes his cabin door; the chock is still on the ramp, so we call him again and tell him. He starts up his plane and brings his avionics and radio back up. Georgetown ground controller calls him and tells him about the chock. Finally he replies to the controller stating that he\u2019s aware of it, but it\u2019s on the back side of his gear and he\u2019s moving forward. (The cloud of MORON ether expands.) Since he still doesn\u2019t get it, as he pulls off, we decide to give him one more call and thank him for leaving an obstruction at the pump. He hits his brakes and asks the tower if that call was for him. The controller just tells him to proceed. We admit that we took some call liberties here, especially with that last one, but we\u2019re pretty friendly with the controllers and they were almost as exasperated as we were.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mooney\u2019s still parked. It\u2019s a full 18 minutes since we started timing our wait at the gas pumps. With Bonanza gone, we remove the offending chock, pull forward and begin fueling. Mooney starts to leave taking with him what remains of the MORON ZONE and the residual bad Karma not already attached to Bonanza . A few minutes later we\u2019re up among the clouds playing our instrument with wild abandon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If what goes around comes around, (see the moral, \u201cYou reap what you sow\u201d) then Mooney and Bonanza are somewhere waiting in line to fuel their planes, and we\u2019re having the last laugh telling the story of morons at the gas pump. Don\u2019t let it be you; clear up your own obstructions, and don\u2019t PARK your airplane at the gas pump! <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Excerpt From
Stories from the Crowd
Scott Ballew
This material may be protected by copyright.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
by Judy Card The story depicted here is based on a true situation that evolved on a typical summer Sunday at Georgetown Airport. A few facts have been altered to protect the guilty; the innocent have no such need and can stand on their own to tell their story. OK, that jumps the disclaimer hurdle. Let\u2019s move on to the introductions. Since we\u2019re the story tellers, we get to call ourselves whatever we want, and more importantly, we get to call the other guys whatever we want, too. Y\u2019all saw the term \u201cMorons\u201d in the title? (Pardon that digression.) We\u2019re the 2fers; we\u2019re 2 fer the road \u2013 uh \u2013 skies, 2 pilots, 2 best friends, 2 kindred spirits \u2013 you get the picture. They\u2019re the Morons, but they obviously don\u2019t know it, so for our purposes here we\u2019re gonna call \u2018em Mooney and Bonanza. Now, we\u2019re pretty sure it\u2019s bad story telling form to put the moral of the piece first, but just in case you\u2019re not interested in the particulars of the 2fers vs. Mooney and Bonanza, here are some applicable moral statements you might want to review: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you (from your Sunday School class,) You reap what you sow (from your grandma\u2019s storehouse of moral guidance,) Money can\u2019t buy you love (from the Beatles,) or in the case of morons it can\u2019t buy you horse sense either (from the 2fers,) A careless pilot might not live long and prosper (from Mr. Spock,) and finally, A pilot who ignores good manners and airport protocol risks accumulating bad Karma and being publicly lampooned! ( from the 2fers \u201cDon\u2019t let it be you\u201d file.) If you\u2019re mentally and spiritually secure in the above teachings and don\u2019t have any interest in this little walk-on in the long running human comedy, then go ahead, power up and take off. Blue skies! If on the other hand, you\u2019re like most of the rest of us and need a little reminder from time to time of how to act and why it\u2019s important, then read on. Now, we 2fers like to live and let live; we do our own thing and respect your right to do yours. We do what we can to help out here and there, but we sure don\u2019t pretend to be perfect, and we\u2019re not the be-all and the end-all of airport etiquette. The thing is, somehow stars aligned and cosmic events moved us along the space\/time continuum such that we were thrust into those few yards surrounding the gas pumps at Georgetown Airport with \u2013 you guessed it \u2013 Mooney and Bonanza. Right there, when our existence and theirs intersected, we began an 18 minute object lesson in the importance of all the aforementioned morals of the story. We\u2019re passing that lesson on to you here, so you can learn from this example and avoid being a mo— a Mooney or a Bonanza \u2013 so to speak. It was late Sunday morning, temp already 95 degrees. We were due to meet some friends for lunch at the diner on the Brenham airfield, so we filed an IFR flight plan but didn\u2019t much think we\u2019d need it. As we taxied away from our hangar, we headed in the direction of the gas pumps to top up before flight. At this moment we\u2019re still a couple of happy-go-lucky ignorant fools as yet unchastened by the Universe. We\u2019re just looking forward to a pleasant little flight followed by some genial RV camaraderie over a high fat, high calorie lunch. But \u2013 not so fast suckers, the ethereal guardians of proper airport conduct and protocol are about to drive home an important point. Pulling out onto the main road we can see the gas pumps, and that sight should have sounded the first little warning bells that we were soon to enter a MORON ZONE. What did we see, you ask, that should have served as our proverbial \u201ccanary in the coal mine?\u201d We saw a Mooney at the left pump and a Bonanza V tail at the right. So what? Perhaps the reader is aware of the admonition, \u201cAlways point your chicken into the wind.\u201d Indeed neither mo— chicken was facing the wind. To be fair, the winds were light, and we were still blissfully unaware of the 18 minutes that awaited us at those pumps. We taxied on down, put our own tail feathers in the wind, and positioned our bird so we could go left or right depending on which mo— plane left first. Now Bonanza had completed his fueling and gotten back in his cockpit before we arrived at the pumps. Mooney was just putting the hose back; oh good, fueling complete. Nobody\u2019s moving yet, and we\u2019re still pretty much sitting there dumb and happy, although, as several minutes tick by, the interior of our little plane is rapidly taking on the qualities of a super heated steam bath. Bonanza still has his cockpit door open, and \u2013 what\u2019s this? Mooney leaves his airplane smack in front of the pump and saunters into the terminal building. Is he kidding? We know our RV is small, but is it possible that someone who can pass the physical required to maintain a pilot\u2019s license CAN\u2019T SEE A WHOLE AIRPLANE parked directly behind him obviously waiting to get gas??? Let\u2019s take just a few lines here while we\u2019re waiting on Mooney to get back to comment on the Beatles\u2019 moral, \u201cMoney can\u2019t buy you love.\u201d This is a generally accepted universal truth that\u2019s simple, clear, and obvious to most of us; the mo—- people who have the most trouble understanding it are the ones who think they\u2019re at the top of their little pecking order. Both Mooney and Bonanza have expensive, complex, high performance airplanes, no question about it. And just as owners of high priced cars often tend to display bad road manners, these guys are letting us know how contemptuous they are of our little RV by rendering us invisible. We\u2019re out here burning gas, running up our engine temp, sweltering in the midday heat, and wondering why we didn\u2019t just get the gas in Brenham. Out here in gas pump limbo we\u2019re starting to lose our equanimity. This \u201clet them eat cake\u201d attitude didn\u2019t work in the French Revolution and it\u2019s not working here either. You see, here\u2019s the thing, despite our discomfort, impatience, and yes, flare of anger, we 2fers know that, unlike Mooney and Bonanza, we enjoy a richness they\u2019ll never know. We built our plane; we put our whole selves into it through long, tedious, joyous hours. It\u2019s our art, and part of our lives are in it. We\u2019re both the luthier and the guitarist; we made the instrument, and we get to play it, and that my friends, you cannot put a price on. So, while these guys are busy ignoring us, we\u2019re really OK with our place in our own pecking order. Still \u2013 it\u2019s getting hotter\u2019n Hades out here! AHH, Mooney returns from the terminal. By now we\u2019ve had a while to scrutinize the pump area. Bonanza still has his door open; he has removed the chock in front of his nose gear but left the one in back of it. When he leaves, this will become a piece of FOD (foreign object debris;) this is not only inconsiderate and bad form, it\u2019s potentially dangerous. Let us refer you to Dr. Spock\u2019s moral, \u201cA careless pilot might not live long and prosper,\u201d second only to the Golden Rule in this case. We call him on ground control frequency and ask for his time frame on clearing the pump area. No response. The ground controller calls him; his radio must not be on. We continue to sit. At about minute 15 of our wait, Bonanza closes his cabin door; the chock is still on the ramp, so we call him again and tell him. He starts up his plane and brings his avionics and radio back up. Georgetown ground controller calls him and tells him about the chock. Finally he replies to the controller stating that he\u2019s aware of it, but it\u2019s on the back side of his gear and he\u2019s moving forward. (The cloud of MORON ether expands.) Since he still doesn\u2019t get it, as he pulls off, we decide to give him one more call and thank him for leaving an obstruction at the pump. He hits his brakes and asks the tower if that call was for him. The controller just tells him to proceed. We admit that we took some call liberties here, especially with that last one, but we\u2019re pretty friendly with the controllers and they were almost as exasperated as we were. Mooney\u2019s still parked. It\u2019s a full 18 minutes since we started timing our wait at the gas pumps. With Bonanza gone, we remove the offending chock, pull forward and begin fueling. Mooney starts to leave taking with him what remains of the MORON ZONE and the residual bad Karma not already attached to Bonanza . A few minutes later we\u2019re up among the clouds playing our instrument with wild abandon. If what goes around comes around, (see the moral, \u201cYou reap what you sow\u201d) then Mooney and Bonanza are somewhere waiting in line to fuel their planes, and we\u2019re having the last laugh telling the story of morons at the gas pump. Don\u2019t let it be you; clear up your own obstructions, and don\u2019t PARK your airplane at the gas pump! Excerpt FromStories from the CrowdScott BallewThis material may be protected by copyright.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[40],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3637","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-lifestyle"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.scottballew.me\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3637","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.scottballew.me\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.scottballew.me\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.scottballew.me\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.scottballew.me\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3637"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.scottballew.me\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3637\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3639,"href":"https:\/\/www.scottballew.me\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3637\/revisions\/3639"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.scottballew.me\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3637"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.scottballew.me\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3637"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.scottballew.me\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3637"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}