Kicking and Screaming

My flying career was one tent away from being a circus or a badly planned and poorly executed practical joke. it was mundane unless of course you include the exhilarating buzz of nearly being fired a few times and being suspended five months before retirement. My crime...swearing at a load agent on company radio. i was ashamed of myself for allowing fatigue and a spiteful F/O to interfere with my critical thinking. At the suspension meeting i again had my big boy pants on and spurned the offered ACPA hand-holder. As soon as i entered the room i had a flashback to Winnipeg and the little Viscount that shoulda but didn’t. The chairman of the meeting and me had history in Torbay, Clearwater Bay, at a float plane fishing derby and on the MV Oliver Clark tied up on a wharf opposite Annasis island in the Fraser River in a snow storm. That could explain why my suspension was symbolic. Three days to be served on my days off with no loss of pay. i sought out the offended agent on my next flight into VR. i shook hands with him apologizing for my bad behaviour and gave him a formal written note of apology.

On my last flight from LHR to YZ they had to drag me kicking and screaming out of the cockpit. i was truly fortunate to have my wife and my son and his family aboard for my last flight—there is nothing that could be better than that.