By the time my grandpa added the second cane, he often told me, "Not to wish your life away." I think I was pretty normal in that regard, shopping for used cars from about age 13 and a half, wishing I was in high school instead of junior high, that sort of thing.
I get it now. Not all that live in the moment new age mystic bullshit(I sat at an outdoor table having a beer with a retired-from-Silicon-Valley-when-I-was-31 blowhard in February. I told him about the idea of always creating new memories cuz that's what life is, the more you have to look back on, the better. "There's no past, no future, only now," he says. Okay, let's say you travel from San Diego for a business convention in Bangkok. Back in San Diego you have a wife and two kids. That's past. But here, now, in Bangkok you bang a hooker. You don't wear a condom cuz you can't get the clap, that's in the future. Then you go back to San Diego and two years later, you're divorced cuz you gave your wife syphilis. The surfer prophet paid his tab and left after that.) but the whole idea of enjoying what you're doing where you're doing it.
People I went to flight school with spent a lot of time talking about how they couldn't wait to get out of the Robinsons and into some 'real' helicopters. As if the little piston-powered machines don't fly or something.
I am stoked to be mostly flying a turbine machine but the R-44 is way more fun to fly than the Bell. One of the other pilots likened it to pulling a trailer, you need to plan way further ahead and mistakes are harder to recover from.
So, while I'm happy to be zipping around in the R-44 again, I really wish the baboons hadn't ripped the windscreen off my helicopter.
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