Dave's Logbook: The Best Medicine
Anybody who's ever met David knows he's the biggest aviation geek born after 1940. I say this only with the utmost fondness -- not just because I am terribly fond of David, but because he's the genuine romantic between us. If I could take us back in time to the period most true to his heart, it would be sometime between WWI and WWII.
"That's a good guess," he says. (I just asked him.)
David would probably have been a barnstormer, taking people for rides, charging only the adults but taking the kids for free. He might've wooed me into his plane with a perfectly polite invitation, written with a fountain pen, sealed with his initials and a tiny airplane logo in wax that he'd crafted himself. He'd be wearing those British aviator's goggles in the photo above, the leather helmet, and the silk scarf that he stores in an antique-style wooden box. I'd imagine he might even take my hand as I disembark his plane, as he does now*, and his one flirtation would be to plant a kiss on it before I took it back.
If I could have one wish, it would be to take this photo again in another 40 years, except he'd be the old aviator on the right... still flying and smiling in his gear at 76.
* except in our Tri-Pacer, because with one door in the front I have to get out before he does!
