I was sitting on a Mississippi River levee this evening, eating a big piece
of home-made pecan pie, watching a tugboat struggle against the current, and
pondering life.

We had flown here in Atlas, our Cherokee Pathfinder -- a flight that took a
whopping twenty minutes. We'd made the flight a hundred times, over the
last eleven years -- it's out default
"rather-go-somewhere-than-fly-the-pattern" flight -- but every now and then
something made it different.

Tonight was different.

We had flown there as a flight of two, with close friends. They had brought
their baby and toddler with them, while we had flown with our daughter, who
has been flying with us since birth. The evening was sublime, with the sun
a low, glowing orb in the sky. The flight had been wondrous.

Instead of eating dinner, we had decided to pick up homemade pies from a
favorite restaurant, milk from a convenience store, and take everything down
to a riverside park. It was decadent and unhealthy, and the kids loved it.

So, I sat, eating pecan pie, watching the river flow by, watching the kids
play...and my thoughts turned strangely to the folks on this newsgroup.
Memories of all the great folks who have taught me so much, all the people
who have shared their flying experiences here...and all the folks who have
so recently brought this great group to its knees.

As I watched the great river roll by, at the end of gorgeous, late-spring
flight, eating home-made pecan pie with family and friends, I thought of the
trolls who have done such damage here, and was overwhelmed with sadness for
them. I realized that these folks would never, ever, feel the joy of flying
over a late spring landscape, of watching the sun low over the Mississippi
River. They would never know what it's like to push the throttle forward
and feel the acceleration pushing you back in your seat, of the wheels
getting light right before the wings take over and the plane arks strongly
into a crystal clear sky.

Later, as I banked over that big river, so different looking from up here,
the water fowl scattering far below, thoughts of this group faded to
insignificance, as they should. Touching down lightly back in Iowa City,
however, taxiing past the Ercoupe that we've offered to buy, pushing the
plane back into the hangar, I realized that these trolls, these wannabe
pilots and former pilots, are quite simply pathetic. They spend endless
hours here, talking about things they'll never know, asking questions they
don't want answered, sniping, hating, filling their days with pointless
personal attacks, and -- worst of all -- drowning out and discouraging all
the good people here.

Something's got to change. Aviation is a tiny, ever-shrinking group, with
diminishing political clout and threats on all sides. This group has, in
the past, represented the best of the piloting community, and we simply
can't waste any more of our time tussling with trolls and malcontents.
Ignore 'em, kill file 'em, do what you gotta do -- but do NOT engage them.

Take the high road, please -- we've simply got to fix this!
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"