The Great Airplane Adventure

Hey I am posting another true story, I hope that you enjoy it.

THE GREAT AIRPLANE ADVENTURE

I was seven years old and wise beyond my years.
My best friends were also intellectuals of the highest order. Before we could skip ahead to college at MIT my duo of friends and I had some grand adventures to participate in. 

We would create a comic book company. A company with our own characters that we had created. The hand drawn books featured our own original story lines. 

We also would produce the great airplane Adventure. After discovering the Wright brothers invention, my friends Jay, Jerry and I had an epiphany.

 We were the greatest trio since the three musketeers, we  decided if we had enough lawn mowers we could rig up an engine powerful enough to power our wood frame airplane. Oh, our protractors, compasses, rulers, angles and the single  calculator (neither Jay or I had a calculator) were used the way God intended. 

Our scientific research began in those tiny desks at West Kemper elementary school. With painstaking care we created the blueprints. What awesome  blueprints they were too. Designs that the Air force and NASA still haven’t caught up to.

  The engine designs that we devised would rival the finest things that Lockheed Martin and Boeing were coming up with and the body designs could probably make our fortunes right now if for no other reasons than the outlandish shapes could be used for science fiction. 

I can’t remember what we should have been studying as we spent hours designing the perfect aircraft. I have  to say that the three of us all had perfect grades, the academic side of our report cards always stellar. I haven't seen that many A’s since.  The behavior side in my case was deplorable. I couldn’t focus, didn't get along with others, I was disruptive and demanding, but the duo that I had as my inner circle and I got along with awesome result. 

The comic books we created were classics man. We created superheroes and Super groups that would rival earth's mightiest heroes. The league, pifft, wouldn't stand a chance. With such scholars by my side our success was a foregone conclusion. 

 We discussed the parts that we would need. The components of our airplane, In the minds of we three seven-year-old geniuses, we thought that if we scavenged enough motor parts from lawn mowers tillers, chain saws and various sorted and sundry gas-powered devices we would have all the power we needed. Perhaps we got lost in the new-found infatuation with air travel, or we underestimated the amount of power we would need to become air-borne.  Maybe we didn’t factor in the weight of the wood that we intended for the body of our vehicle to be mostly made of.

 Since my father had been an aircraft mechanic in the Air force, and like Wile E Coyote I was a genius extraordinaire and so were my co-conspirators. We were confident that soon we would build our aircraft be terrorizing the skies like the red baron. In hindsight I have no idea why I even thought this harebrained scheme was going to work. 

However, I was certain we could cobble together a working jet engine. Ambitious, I know but at seven the only thing that is a limitation is your imagination, and I was a no limit soldier. I believed that the Millennium falcon “Made the Kessel run in 12 parsecs”, I believed that Wookie’s, Klingons, Kryptonite, and Vibranium were all real things. I KNEW that if I was shocked, or bitten by a radioactive creature, struck by cosmic lightening, or any number of other fortunate accidents I was going to be a superhero. I studied sci-fi television. I didn’t just watch Buck Rogers, Star Trek, and Star Wars, I analyzed the entire genre. I was a swashbuckler, a Han Solo style smuggler, a pirate of the air and this aircraft was going to make all of our fortunes.

 It might have taken us two days to complete the blueprints and they were flawless. If I remember correctly we even had notes on the prints. Forget about Xerox we drew three separate sets of the complete prints.

 For my part I had begged, borrowed, and stolen every lawn mower, tiller, wood chipper, moped, and three wheeler, anything motorized that anyone in every neighborhood, in every direction in walking distance would part with. I was cute at the time so I amassed quite the collection. 

My older brother laughed like a hyena when I revealed my plans to him. I didn't want to reveal our top secret plans for world domination, but I needed the help. Jerry, Jay my apologies for revealing the blueprints to my brother, I needed help to move the heavy stuff.

 My brother was six years my senior which meant he was grown. At least to my 7 year old eyes. He laughed, until his green eyes, so like my mother's, were wet. “Oh little brother you made my day!” He attempted to compose himself. “You know what?” 

My brown eyes widened as I looked up at him. He was unbelievably tall. Probably 5”8'  at the time. 

He lowered his changing voice, attempting to seem conspiratorial. My brother glanced around. “let me see those plans.” His voice cracked and he sounded like my sister. Despite the octave change he had me. I figured Danny recognized the intellectual power of these plans.   “I'm gonna help you out Chubby. “ Yeah I was already shopping in the husky boys section and wasn't doing any push aways. “Come this way.”

 He said. I followed doing my best to be as cool as he was. He walked over to the impressive stash of Detritus. He stroked his four hair goatee. “I (deep ) see (high) some real (falsetto) potential here.” I was bouncing up and down. “Danny.” I said “What the hell do I need to do?” I had to cuss in order to establish the pecking order, this was my project.

 I was the one in charge. To emphasize my point I stood just like Batman, the coolest of the super friends.

 He first made me promise to NEVER tell anyone, ANYONE that he was involved. I gave him my word, and though I know he is passed all caring, I apologize for spilling the beans now.

 My beautiful late brother directed me to my father's tool box. Also known as heaven for a curious child genius. Ecstasy, bliss, this was going to work we were going to have the best airplane in America and the Communists were going to try to steal our plans, and Bond, James Bond, (the good one not that new Roger guy) was going to have to kick that Russian dude with the purple stuff on his heads butt. I had it all worked out.

 As I eyed my father's tool box greedily my brother whispered. “You have to keep this cool plan a secret. “ I knew that. I wasn't some dumb little kid. I was like Johnny Quest on steroids. I was Reed Richards, No I was T'Challa. Yeah that way. I looked at my big brother with a look that said “Are you awake?”

 I had read Jack Higgins. I knew about plots and subterfuge. I watched “Bugs Bunny”. My chubby cheeks formed into the same “Get to the point!” expression I have till this day. He leaned down to my level. “Don't let Pops know you got his tools.” 

Okay, red flag. I knew better than to sneak and touch my dad's tools. What a conundrum. I had to keep these top secret plans secret. However I needed those tools. My brother Danny was right. I had to use the tools in secret. My brother instructed me “Don't get carried away fatso and put Dads shit back Captain Eat-a lot.” 

 Because I begged him to, Danny brought over the plywood for the wings and I used my father's tape measure to get the computation just so. I marked them, ready to cut them to our detailed specs but by that time Danny had finished his performance. 

 “Aye no neck if you touch that, (falsetto) fucking saw you don't have to worry about Dad. “ I didn't realize that he had been yanking my little chain. I  thought. "Aha jealousy."  I must be doing something right, Danny was jealous I knew that this was going to fly.

 Jay, Jerry, and I would be Richie Rich wealthy. I just needed my teammates. So the next day I let my fellow scientists know what I planned. To ensure I would have my fellow eggheads I attempted to talk my father into allowing my friends Jay and Jerry over to our house to build it.  I didn't tell him what we planned I just asked could they spend the night. No such luck. My Dad was tough, and he was not allowing me to have any company at the time.

 I couldn't let this pedestrian stand in the way of scientific progress. So the instant my father left for work I found all his tools. Three entire tool boxes full.

 I didn’t know which tool to use for which thing, so I grabbed them all. I didn’t know how I was going to combine the engines once I disconnected them from the original devices, all I knew was that somehow with all of these tools I was going to get this engine built.

 I laid my tools out like a surgeon. I worked hard for an entire shift. So hard that time got away from me. I had wanted to have the jet motor ready on Monday morning.

I don't know how I was going to get the completed motor on the school bus, but I had already made tons of assumptions.  When I heard my father pull up I panicked. 

I forgot about the top secret status of the great Airplane Adventure.

 If I explained it to him He had to understand. He couldn't be upset about such ingenuity and brilliance. There was absolutely no way he was going to punish me,  I reasoned, but he did.

 The great Airplane Adventure crashed and burned immediately. The fire was confined to the places I was hit with the tri-braided switch my Father found. 

I was so afraid to touch my fathers tools after that! I honestly believe that is why I never learned mechanical work from my dad.

 As further punishment I had to get rid of all the lawn mower carcasses and recover my father's tools that were spread from one end of the yard to the other.

 I  did so while I cried. I had learned my lesson, at least until the next time.

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