|Those EZ Chronicles|
Surprisingly the ez.org icon on my screen has never shown any signs of wear. Only us pre-keyboarders would even think of that. I don’t know which is more titillating, waiting for Schubert's CSA to get to my mailbox and then wrestling with the staples, or clicking onto ez.org and waiting.
Wading into the CSA Newsletter or waiting for the spectacular EZ Squadron page to appear allows at least a millisecond or two for anticipation of what will come out into the light of day from the EZ world and those special folks that make up the dream and the reality of that lucky life with its wisps of epoxy and Avgas and carefully wiping bugs off of sleek handcrafted, still futuristic leading edges.
We pour over our airplane like a human glob of ants fighting the losing battle of fouling spark plugs and wear and chips and dings. But the instant the nose lifts and the tires spin free the hassles dissolve away and the magic begins again.
I always look forward to catching up on Terry’s and Avery’s work. Having watched the EZ movement from afar for too long and now fully in the middle, I never get tired of it. Normal life seems to always keep us away from our chosen torture chamber just enough that we are eager to escape and get back to where a sweaty faded fly-in shirt with dark shiny hard spots is a social asset, and mind numbing sanding and an itchy neck and arms can be endured just a little longer. The CSA pages and EZ Squadron site bring us together again for a little while, fellow travelers ignoring those around us with common sense, pushing past mother nature toward unreachable perfections and that extra five knots, and along the way sharing a life that’s more than we deserve.
Too often there is hard news in the pages or on the site. I know it’s coming with the summer and I hate it. Non-aviation tragedies can elbow in attempting to level an excuse but it doesn't help.
the words in suspended realization, a grinning face appears with an elegant
nosed-down work of art in the background. And I remember,
I envy you guys. I envy you that got a friendly insult and welcoming smile when you walked up to their hangar. You that were comfortable with them on your wing. You that lived and breathed and dreamed with them. You that know what they would want to say to comfort us at this moment.
I think of
time and technology. I think of those that lived before us that have walked
this earth, and flown these skies, that we missed, that we never knew.
forward to catching up with you guys…