This is the short version of this story - I won't tell you the sad story
of my stolen tow vehicle. One Labor Day I decided to do a cross-country
flight. My wife had her parents and aunt and uncle visiting, and at the
field to view the excitement. I managed to make perhaps 5 miles before I
landed.

I walked over to the farm house, where they were having a family brunch.
I was invited to eat, said no thanks since I'd already had a huge
breakfast, but was convinced to join anyway. Meanwhile, my wife borrowed
a vehicle from the airport owner, and had to figure out how to hook the
trailer up. Her father ended up on the ground changing the ball, while
my wife started fuming. She was even happier when she got into the car -
typical airport car that's barely street legal. Finally, everything was
set up, everybody loaded in the car, and they set off.

I was having a fine time, and was asked if I could help out getting the
pies from the house for dessert. As I was coming out the front door with
the farmer's daughter, my wife drove up the drive way. She was still
steaming - had no sense of humor about this. Her family was having a
great adventure. And I'm still embaresed about my 2nd shortest
cross-country flight.

Steve