I recently had the pleasure of waving goodbye to 2009 in Key West. It was long awaited and long overdue. After a tumultuous 18 months culminated in a five-week sabbatical from the world’s never-ending scourge of bad news, I packed up for what I thought was a two-night stay at my favorite little motel in Key West. When I awoke on departure day, I decided to extend for another twelve days. I know--twelve days? It’s a long story, but traveling with no reservations affords the luxury of a change in plans.
I spent the next two weeks reflecting on the non-stop deluge of bad news that seemed to perpetuate itself throughout 2009--banks going out of business, the “Great Recession,” housing crises, stock market meltdown and the loss of millions of jobs. All of this while the entire world seemed mired in an Obama-rama daze.
The year was tough. Nearly all industries were decimated--real estate and aviation were of particular concern to me. Between the two, job losses were stratospheric. Couple that with my investment accounts being clobbered and it’s easy to understand why I ended the year negative in the sleep column.
As I pedaled around the island, I never saw a hint of the carnage I dealt with in the working world during the previous 18 months. The only trouble I seemed to encounter was an occasional wind gust blowing my cowboy hat onto the street. With no deadlines, timelines or pushy people expecting things from me, I was finally able to unwind and look at life through a new pair of shades. With 20/20 hindsight, I can now see that all storms do pass--even the Category 5 variety.
When my two weeks in paradise began drawing to a close, I knew it was time to get back in the airplane. With all the turbulence of 2009, flying is something I’d put on the back burner, and I missed it terribly. I called Island City Flying Service and spoke with Rose. One of the things I love about the aviation community is the camaraderie. I hadn’t planned on being in Key West for two weeks so I hadn’t brought any flight gear. With Rose’s assistance, Island City supplied me with everything I needed.
With a flight scheduled, I called Eddie, the Southwind Motel’s assistant manager, and offered to take him up for a ride. He eagerly accepted and a short time later we were on our way to the airport.
Upon arrival, we were greeted with a 14-knot crosswind directly off the south side of Runway 9. The aircraft, a Cessna 172, is rated up to a 15-knot crosswind but with winds gusting even stronger, I knew I’d have my hands full. The instructor, Perry Jones, asked me how I liked crosswind landings. I smiled and told him a little practice never hurts.
We departed into windy skies and flew directly west to Ballast Key. It’s privately owned and consists of a primary beach house and a secondary guest house. Unfortunately, it lacks the length needed for a suitable runway, so we made a low pass and snapped some amazing pictures. Island rumor has it that Kenny Chesney is interested in purchasing it. Since it’s only accessible by boat or helicopter, the seclusion seems a perfect fit for him. The view was stunning, as it always is at low altitude in the Florida Keys. We flew for an hour--long enough to
see a few islands and fill me with a delightful endorphin rush. Eddie was a champ. The landings didn’t seem to faze him, even as Perry and I were struggling to deal with crosswind gusts as high as 18 to 20 knots; I really wish there was an app for that!
When we finished flying, I felt rejuvenated. I hadn’t had that “I can do anything” feeling for a long time and it felt good. I knew it was time to turn the tables on 2009 and go on the offensive again. Further, aviation must play a bigger role in my future. So with mixed emotions, I headed north on U.S. 1 towards Jacksonville, started a new job and thrust my head into the jaws of life.
Perspective has a way of changing when you’re at sea level with a few weeks to relax and let the world pass you by. For the last couple of years, quality downtime has eluded me, and allowing that to happen was a big mistake. Thanks to warm temperatures, a few Kenny Chesney songs and some time to reflect, the sun is shining brightly once again. Time away seems to soothe that uncomfortable feeling of not knowing what to do, when to do it, or how to fix the mistakes already made. Sometimes we just have to slow down, decompress and slide into that old blue chair Kenny’s so fond of. It’s funny how an airplane and a tiny American island can turn out to be the ultimate medicine.
I spent the next two weeks reflecting on the non-stop deluge of bad news that seemed to perpetuate itself throughout 2009--banks going out of business, the “Great Recession,” housing crises, stock market meltdown and the loss of millions of jobs. All of this while the entire world seemed mired in an Obama-rama daze.
The year was tough. Nearly all industries were decimated--real estate and aviation were of particular concern to me. Between the two, job losses were stratospheric. Couple that with my investment accounts being clobbered and it’s easy to understand why I ended the year negative in the sleep column.
As I pedaled around the island, I never saw a hint of the carnage I dealt with in the working world during the previous 18 months. The only trouble I seemed to encounter was an occasional wind gust blowing my cowboy hat onto the street. With no deadlines, timelines or pushy people expecting things from me, I was finally able to unwind and look at life through a new pair of shades. With 20/20 hindsight, I can now see that all storms do pass--even the Category 5 variety.
When my two weeks in paradise began drawing to a close, I knew it was time to get back in the airplane. With all the turbulence of 2009, flying is something I’d put on the back burner, and I missed it terribly. I called Island City Flying Service and spoke with Rose. One of the things I love about the aviation community is the camaraderie. I hadn’t planned on being in Key West for two weeks so I hadn’t brought any flight gear. With Rose’s assistance, Island City supplied me with everything I needed.With a flight scheduled, I called Eddie, the Southwind Motel’s assistant manager, and offered to take him up for a ride. He eagerly accepted and a short time later we were on our way to the airport.
Upon arrival, we were greeted with a 14-knot crosswind directly off the south side of Runway 9. The aircraft, a Cessna 172, is rated up to a 15-knot crosswind but with winds gusting even stronger, I knew I’d have my hands full. The instructor, Perry Jones, asked me how I liked crosswind landings. I smiled and told him a little practice never hurts.
We departed into windy skies and flew directly west to Ballast Key. It’s privately owned and consists of a primary beach house and a secondary guest house. Unfortunately, it lacks the length needed for a suitable runway, so we made a low pass and snapped some amazing pictures. Island rumor has it that Kenny Chesney is interested in purchasing it. Since it’s only accessible by boat or helicopter, the seclusion seems a perfect fit for him. The view was stunning, as it always is at low altitude in the Florida Keys. We flew for an hour--long enough to
see a few islands and fill me with a delightful endorphin rush. Eddie was a champ. The landings didn’t seem to faze him, even as Perry and I were struggling to deal with crosswind gusts as high as 18 to 20 knots; I really wish there was an app for that!When we finished flying, I felt rejuvenated. I hadn’t had that “I can do anything” feeling for a long time and it felt good. I knew it was time to turn the tables on 2009 and go on the offensive again. Further, aviation must play a bigger role in my future. So with mixed emotions, I headed north on U.S. 1 towards Jacksonville, started a new job and thrust my head into the jaws of life.
Perspective has a way of changing when you’re at sea level with a few weeks to relax and let the world pass you by. For the last couple of years, quality downtime has eluded me, and allowing that to happen was a big mistake. Thanks to warm temperatures, a few Kenny Chesney songs and some time to reflect, the sun is shining brightly once again. Time away seems to soothe that uncomfortable feeling of not knowing what to do, when to do it, or how to fix the mistakes already made. Sometimes we just have to slow down, decompress and slide into that old blue chair Kenny’s so fond of. It’s funny how an airplane and a tiny American island can turn out to be the ultimate medicine.
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