Stupider Than A Speeding Bullet    

by

Jaron Summers

I thought about going for a spin on the Concorde when the famous plane was here for our air show last month but I was short of cash and besides I've already had the pleasure of flitting across the Atlantic on the craft.

          As a matter-of-fact it was aboard the Concorde that I was treated like  an idiot and the captain pointed at me after we landed, then whispered rude things.

          My wife and I boarded the Concorde in New York on our way to London.  At the time there was 14 Concordes – that was a few years ago, I don't know how many are left.   I usually keep track of such things because of my interest in aviation.

          Our flight across the Atlantic took under three hours and since it's a small craft (holds about 98), there was no space to show a movie.  The crew plied  us with champagne and caviar and tried to entertain us with facts and figures.

          I notice the crew referred to the Concorde without the article.  In other words it was "welcome aboard Concorde."  A pretty serious bunch. 

I told my wife I figured I could get one of them to laugh.  My wife gave me one of her looks but I was undaunted.   I vowed I would break through that famous British reserve before we touched down in London.

          The purser approached and told us in hushed tones that if we wished we would have an opportunity to visit the cockpit.  Further we would be allowed to ask the pilot of Concorde one question.  Did we want to?

          You betcha.

          We were escorted to Concorde cockpit.  It had some of the most intimidating  instrumentation I had ever seen.  One thing seemed out of place.  In the center of the high-tech instruments, the pilot had placed a white cardboard silhouette of Concorde.  A paper nose was attached to its paper body by a small rivet.

          Having read all about Concorde I knew what the paper plane was for.  The nose of Concorde droops like a shriveled winnie when it lands.  This is so the pilot can see where he is going.  Obviously the little visual aid was to explain to others, less knowledgeable than me, how the nose hinged.

The pilot, who had split teeth, like Terry Thomas, asked if I had a question.

"Yes," I said, realizing I could make him laugh, "I understand you  droop your nose when you land."

"Uh, yes –"

"Do you lower it by wiggling the tip of that paper cut-out?"  I reached out to waggle the paper in order to drive home my hilarious joke as we approached a velocity three times the speed of sound. 

The captain overreacted, and apparently thought I was going to switch off the power.  "Don't touch, Sir!"  He slapped at my hand. 

I instinctively jerked  back.  He missed me and hit a button and Concorde tilted and dove.  I grabbed the captain's neck to keep my balance.  Fortunately, he adjusted the flaps or something.

A moment later the passengers stopped screaming.  I let go of the captain.  He was the color of chalk. 

I tried to put him at ease and said, " I was just going to wiggle that paper plane as a joke.  I would never have touched the controls without your permission, after all we are going faster than a speeding bullet." (I was speaking aviator to aviator.)  

He spoke in a flat monotone.  "The mechanism for Concorde's nose assembly involves computers and sophisticated hydraulics which I assure you are not controlled by a bit of paper."   

"I know that.  By the way, my compliments on regaining control of Concorde but don't you think you pulled her up a bit quickly, old man?"

The captain eyes narrowed as he rose from his seat.  I was afraid I might have to restrain him but the co-pilot got him to sit back down.

My wife insisted we return to our seat.

Later in the airport I saw the captain point at me and I heard him telling a flight attendant that I was stupider than a speeding bullet.  I guess that's an inside joke among the Concorde staff.   Not very funny and not very professional in my humble opinion.

Next time I sell a screenplay I'm going to fly Concorde again.  My wife says she is going to stay home.  I don't understand how she could resist traveling with such a knowledgeable expert on aviation.