Yesterday evening was the weekly church supper, and my partner and I
decided to go.

After a beautiful drive we arrived and went inside. While waiting in
line we met two older gentlemen. The usual introductions were made,
and standard church talk ensued. It turned out that both guys were
retired and in their mid-70s. One had been a Sears store manager for
many years, and other was a successful real estate developer. The
conversation flowed smoothly, and the line went moved quickly.

After finishing the buffet line as we were looking for a table, we ran
into them again. The Sears manager asked me if we cared to join them
for lunch. Since we were sans kids, and they seemed like nice
company, we decided that joining them was a good idea, and proceeded
to a table.

Once we were all seated with our food, we all prayed, then began our
meal. The real estate guy announced that he and his friends were
pilots and asked if we could all recite High Flight together. I
frankly found this a bit odd, in a church buffet, but to be polite we
just agreed. My partner and I exchanged the old "uh-oh" glance, but
we still hoped that things would progress normally.

It was not to be.

As lunch proceeded, began asking questions and soon asked what type of
plane we flew. My partner struggled bravely to answer that question
in a way that wouldn't offend these obviously zealous pilots, but
there was simply no way to hide the fact that we didn't fly, nor were
we urging out children to. I then proceeded to explain that we had
both been raised by hyper-Aviation parents, and had been bludgeoned to
death with our heavy-handed upbringings. We were going to let our
children decide about aviation when they reached the age of reason.

This was a mistake. I might as well have tossed blood into
shark-infested
water.

The next question, after a pause, was from the Sears guy, asking
whether we had Aviation magazines in our hotel suites. I chuckled,
and allowed that we did. I then went on to say how we'd even seen some
competition amongst the various alphabet groups in town, with the EAA
trying to get us to put their "Sport Aviation" magazines in all the
suites along with AOPA Pilot. Still chuckling, I remarked that we had
to draw the line somewhere, or we'd have to put US Aviator magazine in
the suites, too.

This was another mistake. The Sears guy turned out to be an EAA
member, and he didn't warm to the notion that I was equating his
beloved Sport Aviation magazine with US Aviator.

Soon, both men were quoting the FAR-AIM to us, chapter and verse,
"proving" how "easy" it was to be "saved" by the aviation lifestyle",
as opposed to the unhealthful other lifestyles. By now we were both
growing incredibly uncomfortable, and I had that horrible "this must
be a nightmare" feeling rising in the pit of my stomach. Not knowing
whether to bolt or tell them to go to hell, I just sat there silently,
dumbly smiling at them in disbelief.

Then the Sears guy asked me if I knew how "truly easy" it was to
become an aviator? I replied, quite honestly, "no". (ANOTHER
mistake!) He then told me that I didn't have to close my eyes, nor
did I even have to be in the air -- I only had to recite High Flight
along with him, giving myself over to aviation. He then asked,
directly, "Would I be willing to say this little verse aloud with
him?"

The heat in my face was really rising now, and I felt like everyone in
that church was staring DIRECTLY at the back of my head. What could I
say to someone so earnest, yet so incredibly rude? I smiled, placed
my hand firmly on his shoulder, and told him that I most certainly was
NOT going to recite that verse with him in church. I then went back
to eating, trying to think of some way -- ANY way -- to escape this
insane situation.

My partner finally came up with the answer -- she bolted, and went to
the bathroom! Abandoned, I was a helpless target for their zeal, and
felt myself being carried along by their verbal diarrhea. There was
simply no escape, and I politely listened while they explained to me
everything from everlasting aviation, to the advantages of sending
hundreds of dollars of my income to the alphabet groups...

At last my partner returned, and announced that we were late to get
back to pick up the kids from school. Never had I been so grateful
for bad news in my life, and I quickly jumped up, shook both their
hands, thanked them for an "interesting" lunch, and headed toward the
door, on the double.

Until yesterday I had run into fanatics in every other walk of life.
I GUESS I HAD ASSUMED THAT ANYONE NICE ENOUGH TO ATTEND CHURCH
COULDN'T BE SO RUDE AS TO GO AROUND TRYING TO "CONVERT" PERFECT
STRANGERS.