And I'm not talking about football. I'm talking about the "pass," air show talk for when an aircraft flies by, at the Sea and Sky Spectacular on Sunday, Nov. 4.
If your ears are still ringing and your bones are still jarred, you know the one I'm talking about. It was mid-afternoon. I'm fairly certain it was an Air Force F-16. It had the battle-ready, radar-stealth gray paint scheme, not the gleaming, showy blue and gold of the Navy's Blue Angels.
Who the heck was that, anyway?
That pilot flew fast, low and loud over the beach, with plenty of innocent bystanders and boaters immediately underneath. Perhaps a bit too loud, low and fast. At an altitude of a mere 30 or 40 feet, it seemed, the pass made the Blues' fly-by's seem tame. And they weren't tame. The gray jet's pass made adults jump and babies scream.
Now, I love this stuff. I was fortunate enough to go flying in a Blue Angels jet back in 1984. It was with the late Lt. Mike Gershon, who made the experience unforgettable with his dry witticisms and his spellbinding albeit seemingly effortless barrel rolls, tight turns, upside-down cruises andd other tactics.
It's exciting stuff, no doubt. But the gray jet came out of nowhere from the north and left aa deafening, blasting jet wash in its wake.
Should we call the FAA and check up on the accepted safety standards for fliers over the beach? Especially at 400 to 500 mph? Even if the pilot's U.S. military trained? Nah. The FAA wouldn't question tactics performed at an air show whose major purpose is recruiting.
So leave it at a kind request. Dear Gray Jet Pilot: Your role over the weekend was to lure us to the beach and dazzle us, not blow us into the next hemisphere. Thanks, from all of us land lubbers.
