It is official. I am now a very proud (part)-owner of the beautiful 1946 Cessna 140 pictured below*. The ink is still wet on the paperwork. I am proud as a peacock, needless to say. And why not? Isn't she a beaut? And she sounds it, too. You should hear that little motor's chattering, huffing, popping rhythm. It's the perfect medley of nostalgia and modern genius. Even as I type, I cannot constrain the goofy, childish, gleaming grin that is within my heart. It is leaking out everywhere. I rub my hands in delight. Perhaps I will sleep tonight, perhaps I will not.
The next step is to spend a great deal of time driving her around with an instructor at my side. The primary reason is that she drags her tail on the ground, rather than her nose, which makes ground handling (including takeoff and landing operations) a little more to difficult to master. Some instruction time will take care of that. The experience will be much like that awkward, unspeakably exciting first few weeks of a daring new romance. Then, when we're comfortable spending time together, we'll go darting off over the countryside, punching holes in the sky to get who-knows-where, falling more in love with each other while making memories that will last a lifetime. I can't wait to get started.
Of course, that is all contingent on my sweet wife being able to accompany me, because without her it'll be one lonely ride. And all of it, of course, is if the Lord wills it so.
*for the technical minds: the owner is actually the corporation we formed expressly for that purpose. To be practical, we own the airplane. And it sounds neater.