Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Day I Flew Like SUPERMAN

    Before starting this post, let me tell you, I was interviewed again, but this time I must have been drinking.  I can't believe how silly I got!
    For example, look how I answered these two questions:


When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

     I swear, I slid out of the womb and handed my mom a story I’d been writing for the last trimester.  It’s the way I deal with things whether I’m getting knit together in my mama’s belly, creating ridiculous stories, or dealing with difficult times that make it hard to breathe.  

When you start to write a new novel, what is the process for you? Do you have the story worked out, or do you just kind of wing it as you go?

     "The Golden Sky" was my journal before I revised it for publication.  Putting it out in the public is like opening my ribs and showing everyone what makes my heart beat.  I’ve never been much on watching open-heart surgery, but I think it’s for the best this time. 

    For more of that . . . ummm silliness, please go here to this amazing page for author interviews.  Oh and to find my interview, go to the page, hit ctrl F and then type "Elisa" in the box that will appear on the bottom of your screen.



    Now, onto the post of the day.
    Last week Fishducky sent me this picture from her zero gravity flight.  Isn't she awesome!

Photobucket
    She'd included a fun story called "The Day I Flew Like Superman."  Well, the Scribe and the Hippie ADORE Fishducky as much as I do.  So, I knew they'd love the picture.
    Both of them stared at it for a long time.
    "Has that picture been edited?" the Hippie asked.
    "Nope."  
    "That's not real, right?"
    "It's absolutely real," I said.
    The Scribe nodded.  "I love that woman.  You can tell she's fun AND she loves to draw.  Look at her face; we kinda look alike."
    "Yeah, I could see that," I said.
    "It's because we both have . . . the face of an artist."  She smiled then, a huge grin I wish I'd captured on camera.  "You know what, Mom . . . I want to be like her when I grow up, then I'll be an amazing artist."
     The Hippie nodded, "I want to be like her too, but I don't want to be an artist, I just want to learn how to fly."  
    

    Without further ado, I'd like to introduce the famous Fishducky (the one who knows how to fly)!

  
The Day I Flew Like SUPERMAN


    Three years ago, I gave myself the thrill of a lifetime.  For my 74th birthday I went on a zero gravity flight.  This was the same kind of plane the astronauts trained in—NOT a simulator.  Since I walk with a cane, my husband asked me how I thought I would be able to do that.  I told him that I wouldn’t be walking, I would be floating!  I was, of course, the oldest person on the flight.
     We took off from Burbank, CA in a stripped down 727 (about 35 seats left on the plane & all in the back) & quickly gained altitude.  Just like when you’re on a roller coaster & you feel yourself lifting out of your seat on the downhill runs you lessen gravity when the plane is in a steep dive.  The angle of the dive determines how strong the pull of gravity is.  This climbing & diving arc is called a parabola.  The astronauts called it the “vomit comet” because they made so many parabolas.  Most people don’t feel nauseous until after 20 parabolas—our flight had 15.  Nobody got sick.  The low to zero gravity periods lasted about 15 seconds each.
     Our instructors had us lie face down on the floor before each dive.  On the first dive gravity was that of Mars—about 1/3 of Earth.  The next two were that of the moon—about 1/6 of Earth.  During these (& I am NO athlete) I did one handed pushups to a standing position.
    Parabolas 4-15 were ZERO GRAVITY.  I pushed myself off the bulkhead, straightened my arms & flew like Superman.  I got into a fetal position & my instructor gave me a push & I rolled over & over in midair.  I laid on my back & linked arms with a few other people & we lifted our legs & did a backward somersault in unison.  We swallowed M&M’s and globules of water that were floating by.
It was--WITHOUT A DOUBT—the most fun I ever had in my life, with or without my clothes on!  It was, however, very expensive, in the range of $5,000--& worth every cent.  (My philosophy is that money is like fertilizer—no good unless you spread it around.)  I sent each of my kids a thank you note since I figured it was coming out of their inheritance.  I did the same thing when I bought myself a BMW a few years before.  Yes, thank you, I AM polite.  


    For more posts by Fishducky, please visit these two wonderful sites.

My Friend Fishducky

Fishducky and the Foriegn Rolls