Who wants to fly in an F-14?

jbarker@bankspower

<Worlds 2nd Fastest Dmax
Mar 24, 2008
390
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Too funny!:rofl: Enjoy!:D No it's not me:D


Someday you may be invited to fly in the back-seat of one of your country's most
powerful fighter jets. Many of you already have John Elway, John Stockton, Tiger Woods
to name a few. If you get this opportunity, let me urge you, with the greatest sincerity...
Move to Guam .

Change your name. Fake your own death! Whatever you do. Do Not Go!!!

I know.

The U.S. Navy invited me to try it. I was thrilled. I was pumped. I was toast!
I should've known when they told me my pilot would be Chip (Biff) King of
Fighter Squadron 213 at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia Beach .

Whatever you're thinking a Top Gun named Chip (Biff) King looks like, triple it.
He's about six-foot, tan, ice-blue eyes, wavy surfer hair, finger-crippling
handshake -- the kind of man who wrestles dyspeptic alligators in his leisure
time. If you see this man, run the other way. Fast.

Biff King was born to fly. His father, Jack King, was for years the voice of NASA
missions. ('T-minus 15 seconds and counting.' Remember?) Chip would charge
neighborhood kids a quarter each to hear his dad. Jack would wake up from
naps surrounded by nine-year-olds waiting for him to say, 'We have liftoff.'

Biff was to fly me in an F- 14D Tomcat, a ridiculously powerful $60 million weapon
with nearly as much thrust as weight, not unlike Colin Montgomerie. I was worried
about getting airsick, so the night before the flight I asked Biff if there was something
I should eat the next morning.

'Bananas,' he said.

'For the potassium?' I asked.

'No,' Biff said, 'because they taste about the same coming up as they do going down.'

The next morning, out on the tarmac, I had on my flight suit with my name sewn over
the left breast. (No call sign -- like Crash or Sticky or Leadfoot. But, still, very cool.)
I carried my helmet in the crook of my arm, as Biff had instructed. If ever in my life I
had a chance to nail Nicole Kidman, this was it.

A fighter pilot named Psycho gave me a safety briefing and then fastened me into my
ejection seat, which, when employed, would 'egress' me out of the plane at such a velocity
that I would be immediately knocked unconscious.

Just as I was thinking about aborting the flight, the canopy closed over me, and Biff
gave the ground crew a thumbs-up. In minutes we were firing nose up at 600 mph.
We leveled out and then canopy-rolled over another F-14.

Those 20 minutes were the rush of my life. Unfortunately, the ride lasted 80... It was
like being on the roller coaster at Six Flags Over Hell. Only without rails. We did barrel
rolls, snap rolls, loops, yanks and banks. We dived, rose and dived again, sometimes
with a vertical velocity of 10,000 feet per minute. We chased another F-14, and it chased us.




We broke the speed of sound. Sea was sky and sky was sea. Flying at 200 feet we did
90-degree turns at 550 mph, creating a G force of 6.5, which is to say I felt as if 6.5
times my body weight was smashing against me, thereby approximating life as
Mrs. Colin Montgomerie.

And I egressed the bananas.

And I egressed the pizza from the night before.

And the lunch before that.

I egressed a box of Milk Duds from the sixth grade.

I made Linda Blair look polite. Because of the G's, I was egressing stuff that I never
thought would be egressed.

I went through not one airsick bag, but two.

Biff said I passed out. Twice. I was coated in sweat. At one point, as we were coming
in upside down in a banked curve on a mock bombing target and the G's were flattening
me like a tortilla and I was in and out of consciousness, I realized I was the first person
in history to throw down.

I used to know 'cool.' Cool was Elway throwing a touchdown pass, or Norman making
a five-iron bite. But now I really know 'cool.' Cool is guys like Biff, men with cast-iron
stomachs and freon nerves. I wouldn't go up there again for Derek Jeter's black book,
but I'm glad Biff does every day, and for less a year than a rookie reliever makes in a
home stand.

A week later, when the spins finally stopped, Biff called. He said he and the fighters
had the perfect call sign for me. Said he'd send it on a patch for my flight suit.

What is it?? I asked.

'Two Bags.'
 
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jbarker@bankspower

<Worlds 2nd Fastest Dmax
Mar 24, 2008
390
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Ok I'll roll with this...
Jeff "two bags" Barker
Adam "cracked block" Wildman
Pat "ghost rider" McSwain
what else we got?.......:rofl:
 

whitetrash21

put on da damn helmet day
Apr 29, 2008
4,929
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Vegas
mike "the puker" meyers....
brian "the alcoholic" stecki....
chad "dew-a-holic" hall....
joe "teabagger" wtf ever his last name is... :D



shalll i keep going??? :D
 

db9938

Tank Commander
Apr 19, 2007
10
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This is way too funny. The math teacher across the hall from me, was a F-14 pilot. His last name is Fudge. Take a guess what his callsign was?

And yes, it helps to think with a military, or 5th grade mind...