From: wmkerschner88@gmail.com
To:
Sent: 1/13/2019 10:54:32 AM Central Standard Time
Subject: Fwd: What You Don't Want To Happen On Landing......
To:
Sent: 1/13/2019 10:54:32 AM Central Standard Time
Subject: Fwd: What You Don't Want To Happen On Landing......
: What You Don't Want To Happen On
Landing......
WOW! TOO CLOSE BEHIND A HEAVY?
The plane looks like
it's OK but the seats are probably ruined.
Definitely a *%#!
moment !
Probably the first low
level roll by a jet liner with survivors !
Note the pilot had
full opposite aileron in through the whole roll and how much
the wings were bending, watch the slow motion at the end.
the wings were bending, watch the slow motion at the end.
Skillful but lucky
save !...
> Note the pilot had full opposite aileron in through the whole roll and how much
> the wings were bending, watch the slow motion at the end.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
From:
Date: Tue, Jan 8, 2019 at 5:40 PM
Subject: The Age of the 727
To:
Date: Tue, Jan 8, 2019 at 5:40 PM
Subject: The Age of the 727
To:
Obviously written by some old and bold
jet jockey from the Good Old Days, with some fond reminiscences of yesterday
and regrets of today.
The
Age of the 727
Those were the good ole days. Pilots back then were men that didn't want to be women or girly men. Pilots all knew who Jimmy Doolittle was. Pilots drank coffee, whiskey, smoked cigars and didn't wear digital watches. They carried their own suitcases and brain bags, like the real men they were.
Pilots didn't bend over into the crash position multiple times each day in front of the passengers at security so that some Gov't agent could probe for tweezers or fingernail clippers or too much toothpaste. Pilots did not go through the terminal impersonating a caddy pulling a bunch of golf clubs, computers, guitars, and feed bags full of tofu and granola on a sissy-trailer with no hat and granny glasses hanging on a pink string around their pencil neck while talking to their personal trainer on the cell phone!!!
Being an airline Captain was as good as being the King in a Mel Brooks movie.
Those were the good ole days. Pilots back then were men that didn't want to be women or girly men. Pilots all knew who Jimmy Doolittle was. Pilots drank coffee, whiskey, smoked cigars and didn't wear digital watches. They carried their own suitcases and brain bags, like the real men they were.
Pilots didn't bend over into the crash position multiple times each day in front of the passengers at security so that some Gov't agent could probe for tweezers or fingernail clippers or too much toothpaste. Pilots did not go through the terminal impersonating a caddy pulling a bunch of golf clubs, computers, guitars, and feed bags full of tofu and granola on a sissy-trailer with no hat and granny glasses hanging on a pink string around their pencil neck while talking to their personal trainer on the cell phone!!!
Being an airline Captain was as good as being the King in a Mel Brooks movie.
All the Stewardesses
(aka. Flight Attendants) were young, attractive, single women that were proud
to be combatants in the sexual revolution. They didn't have to turn sideways,
grease up and suck it in to get through the cockpit door. They would blush, and
say thank you, when told that they looked good, instead of filing a sexual
harassment claim. Junior Stewardesses shared a room and talked about men....
with no thoughts of substitution.
Passengers wore nice clothes and were polite; they could speak AND understand English. They didn't speak gibberish or listen to loud gangsta rap on their IPods. They bathed and didn't smell like a rotting pile of garbage in a jogging suit and flip-flops. Children didn't travel alone, commuting between trailer parks. There were no Biggest Losers asking for a seatbelt extension or a Scotch and grapefruit juice cocktail with a twist. If the Captain wanted to throw some offensive, ranting jerk off the airplane, it was done without any worries of a lawsuit or getting fired.
Axial flow engines crackled with the sound of freedom and left an impressive black smoke trail like a locomotive burning soft coal. Jet fuel was cheap and once the throttles were pushed up they were left there. After all, it was the jet age and the idea was to go fast (run like a lizard on a hardwood floor). "Economy cruise" was something in the performance book, but no one knew why or where it was. When the clacker went off, no one got all tight and scared because Boeing built it out of iron. Nothing was going to fall off and that sound had the same effect on real pilots then, as Viagra does now for these new age guys.
There was very little plastic and no composites on the airplanes (or the Stewardesses' pectoral regions). Airplanes and women had eye-pleasing symmetrical curves, not a bunch of ugly vortex generators, ventral fins, winglets, flow diverters, tattoos, rings in their nose, tongues and eyebrows.
Airlines were run by men like C.R. Smith, Juan Trippe, "Eddie Rickenbacker" and Bob Six, who built their companies virtually from scratch, knew most of their employees by name, and were lifetime airline employees themselves...not pseudo financiers and bean counters who flit from one occupation to another for a few bucks, a better parachute or a fancier title, while fervently believing that they are a class of beings unto themselves.
And so it was back then....and never will be again! Damn! Flying is the second greatest thrill known to man. What is first, you ask?
Landing, of course!
Passengers wore nice clothes and were polite; they could speak AND understand English. They didn't speak gibberish or listen to loud gangsta rap on their IPods. They bathed and didn't smell like a rotting pile of garbage in a jogging suit and flip-flops. Children didn't travel alone, commuting between trailer parks. There were no Biggest Losers asking for a seatbelt extension or a Scotch and grapefruit juice cocktail with a twist. If the Captain wanted to throw some offensive, ranting jerk off the airplane, it was done without any worries of a lawsuit or getting fired.
Axial flow engines crackled with the sound of freedom and left an impressive black smoke trail like a locomotive burning soft coal. Jet fuel was cheap and once the throttles were pushed up they were left there. After all, it was the jet age and the idea was to go fast (run like a lizard on a hardwood floor). "Economy cruise" was something in the performance book, but no one knew why or where it was. When the clacker went off, no one got all tight and scared because Boeing built it out of iron. Nothing was going to fall off and that sound had the same effect on real pilots then, as Viagra does now for these new age guys.
There was very little plastic and no composites on the airplanes (or the Stewardesses' pectoral regions). Airplanes and women had eye-pleasing symmetrical curves, not a bunch of ugly vortex generators, ventral fins, winglets, flow diverters, tattoos, rings in their nose, tongues and eyebrows.
Airlines were run by men like C.R. Smith, Juan Trippe, "Eddie Rickenbacker" and Bob Six, who built their companies virtually from scratch, knew most of their employees by name, and were lifetime airline employees themselves...not pseudo financiers and bean counters who flit from one occupation to another for a few bucks, a better parachute or a fancier title, while fervently believing that they are a class of beings unto themselves.
And so it was back then....and never will be again! Damn! Flying is the second greatest thrill known to man. What is first, you ask?
Landing, of course!
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
From: wmkerschner88@gmail.com
To:
Sent: 12/31/2018 7:21:55 AM Central Standard Time
Subject: Beluga XL
To:
Sent: 12/31/2018 7:21:55 AM Central Standard Time
Subject: Beluga XL
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ONE BIG BIRD!
The largest plane to fly come 2019. Massive in size and with a capacity of 680 people with crew.
This, the test flight
video. Airbus has named this as the *Beluga XL*. (Beluga is named after the
whale species.
They painted it to
look like one. Kept expecting it to jump over a stick held out by a Sea
World trainer!
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