I’ve been to a handful of parties in my life, and for the most part, they’ve all been rather staid affairs. Which is quiet ironic. You see, at most of these dos, I often run into people who tend to have the ideal solution for fixing the weakening Euro, rising inflation, ISIS, India’s meek bowling attack, global warming and Shah Rukh Khan’s retirement. Once those issues are dealt with it goes down the predictable, “So what do you do?” route.
Now, having an office at the pointy end of a 300-ton aluminium tube that does 950 kmph, 10 kms above the surface of the Earth does get some eyes to light up. But trust someone to burst the bubble. “What do you guys do anyway,” he will smirk, “It’s all automatic these days, isn’t it? Gone are the days of real flying. There is no more romance left in aviation.” “True I say,” with a shrug, “but we are all half the men are fathers were,” and move along.
