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for all you folks that have first-hand experience that Santa is most definitely alive and well (and also for those of you who will find out soon enough!)...

 

 

T’was the night before Christmas and all through the hangar,

Not a soul was around…’cept some pilot from Bangor.

 

Scud-runnin’ the fog with a case of get-home-itus,

****-bent for the family, his motives were righteous.

 

That tower loomed out of the mist like a ghost,

The decision was easy... time to find a good host.

 

Landing at dark… cold & hungry… ten miles from town…

This shelter was an improvement on others he’s put down.

 

Using a credit card with numbers worn flat with abuse,

He popped the lock easily, and took off his boots.

 

The world he had entered brought a smile to his face,

With photos of “flying folk” all over that place.

 

Magazines by the dozens topped the worn coffee table,

Where newbies listened to the old salts compare flying fables.

 

The kitchen was next on his fifty-cent tour whirl,

Where photos of aircraft gave way to some girls.

 

Political correctness hadn’t made it’s mark here fast,

A lady’s obviously required… to add that needed touch of class.

 

The fridge door was opened… and with genuine surprise…

A brown bag with ham sandwich… and someone’s half-eaten fries!

 

He sparked up the “mike” and dinner was soon hot,

He wolfed it on down and said, “Thanks, a lot!”

 

Into the hangar he slipped and turned on the lights…

Where he was treated to another feast, this one for his eyes.

 

Yellow Stearman, bright red Pitts… and a Bell 47,

Complete with Lear45… he walked in to flyer’s heaven!

 

With benches and wrenches… adding fuel to the mix…

That near miss was forgotten… he’d needed this fix!

 

He wondered to himself as he beheld such a sight…

What Wilbur & Orville would say on this night?

 

With visions of sand dunes and short-legged hops,

He saluted two heroes… being from Kitty Hawk.

 

As he sat back on a couch (smelling cigarettes… and stale beer),

His eyelids near closed, “What’s that noise that I hear?”

 

The creaking was coming from far out on the tarmac,

The fuel sign rocking gently… with a lovely, clearing wind back!

 

Leaving a fiver behind for the dinner he had,

He fired up his ride and departed the pad.

 

As he circled the field and dialed in destination,

He looked fondly below on his place of salvation.

 

The next thing he knows… as he jumps up awake,

His daughter’s beside him and giving him a shake.

 

“Wake up Daddy… Santa’s been here, I heard him last night…

wake Mommy… it’s early… but I’m sure it’s alright”.

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Christmas Greetings from the Far East everyone!!!!!

 

Hope you've all flown safe this year so Santa doesn't have to scratch you off his list.

 

As for me, I'm gonna roll the dice and gamble I have an equally safe 2004!!! (anyone care to guess where I'm at???) 412driver & 204bDude are NOT allowed to answer!!!! :P

 

Merry Christmas all and the best in the New Year.

 

DecuMajor :up:

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Guest bag swinnger

Ho Ho Ho to every one! and to all you pilots that are reading this, it means that you have just about completed another safe year of flying. well done put yourself down for an extra 0.2 on youre next ticket and be sure to buy a round for your engineer. also make sure to watch out for the .08's this drinking season. cheers :D

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