War Lords

The holidays are receding at 10 miles per minute in my six. Good will toward men and all that stuff is back in the lock box until December 2007. One hour ago, in a small remote dispatch office on the east coast, where I was retrieving flight paperwork, I listened to fellow pilots verbally stab other fellow pilots in the back over union issues. Deep stab wounds with razor sharp combat knives. Divide and conquer; the oldest tactic in the book...

Six major airlines are jockeying for position... Everything is on the line. As forecast, the airline landscape will appear vastly different within one year. Instead of creating strong, in-depth defenses as one pilot union, we are acting like war lords. Carving out little territories, then burning the bridge. Laughably easy pickings for Wall Street financiers...

Well, that was five hundred miles ago. Up here, at the top of the troposphere, things look and feel vastly different. In my nine (left) and high, Orion is chasing the Seven Sisters toward the west. Our nose is pushing against a 125 mph (108 kts) wind as we wing our way toward California with a full load (150 passengers), including four jumpseaters, and five crew members. Every seat of any description is full.

My co-pilot, a young kid with young children, is easy to get along with and respects the old guy in the left seat. I have flown with him before, when he was a new hire fresh from the co-pilot machine. That was three years ago, or so he says... He also said that I made a hard landing at Tampa, then when the flight deck door was opened and the flight attendants came to see if we were OK, I said, "OK, next time flare a little bit higher and you'll do better." That is a little trick I learned from some long gone Captain and it works well. I do not remember doing it to this kid, though.

He must have me confused with another Captain...

Day #2 of a 4 day continues