Author: Mark Mamelson

Provided a crystal-ball by which to glimpse their creation’s future, the bigwigs at Lockheed Martin and the Pentagon might well have forgone Lightning II and instead dubbed the F-35 the Paris Hilton, a conditionally attractive, pedigreed prima donna with no perceptible talent or ability—excepting spending other people’s money and fomenting controversy.  The F-35 is equally deserving of the…

Year of the Water Dog Michael Jackson’s Thriller album sits atop the charts. Argentina has invaded the Falkland Islands. Leonid Breznjev, Princess Grace, and John Belushi die. Prince William is born. The Vietnam Memorial is erected. The world is in the midst of the worst financial crisis since World War II. DeLorean Motor Company goes…

The Learjet is dead. Long live the Learjet. Asked if I loved or hated flying the Learjet, I’d answer, both. I loved flying the critters, but I hated flying them for a living. The sheer, kick-in-the-pants performance of the twenty and thirty series was exhilarating, but the machines played hell on my neck, nerves, and…

Parallel Entry I patronize a small butcher shop in the weird borderlands between Indiana’s idyllic prairie and Chicago’s concrete hell. The joint belongs to Wally, a blue-jawed titan of a Pole whose grandparents emigrated to the U.S. in the 1940s and promptly got down to pig farming in the Kankakee Valley. Generations of Wally’s family…

The aviation press abounds with calls for diversity and impassioned pleas to supplement the so-called talent pipeline with low-time pilot hires. At best, this notion is misguided. At worst, it’s dangerous. At any point between, it’s irresponsible, arrogant, and unconscionably stupid. The individuals promulgating these idiocies are non-aviators. They tout themselves as thought leaders and…

Every generation bemoans the imminent end of the good old days. The Platonists warned that the upstart Aristotelians would be the ruin of ancient Greece. The Aristotelians said the same of the Stoics, and the Stoics predicted civilization would end with the Epicureans. They were all wrong. From the Renaissance to the Industrial Revolution, from…

Wednesday, 25 November 2065. The day before Thanksgiving: Good evening. Welcome aboard American Airlines flight 2501, nonstop service from Chicago O’Hare to Dallas Fort Worth. I am a Boeing, Seven-Twelve-Seven, Transonic Truss-Braced Wing Streamliner. Assisting me this evening is Captain Buck Futz, whose presence signifies American’s commitment to customer service. As all of my ground…

Ab Initio  From the Beginning It can be persuasively argued that the airplane’s primary purpose is to expediently convey humanity over long distances. Certainly, Wilbur and Orville’s contraption has scratched men’s itches to have fun, haul freight, and fight wars—but reeling in nautical miles at near-mach speeds remains the airplane’s raison d’être. From the dawn…

Disclaimer: The FAA employs over 35,000 individuals, a great many of whom are smart, capable, and dedicated to the advancement of aviation. The fact that I have never, personally, met such an FAA employee in no way confutes the existence thereof.  *** There are two types of amateur pilots: those who fly for the sport,…

To go forth in black raiments and wreak havoc on the realms of men, to furtively, yet fundamentally, alter the lives of millions of human beings over whom consequence and dumb luck have given you dominion, this is the purview of two creatures: Rattus rattus, the Black rat, and U.S. Federal Judges. The former is…