Black Dog Blog

High Flight, for those new to the maze of footless twisty hallways of my head, is one of my favourite poems, about the joy of being a pilot. I'm not alone: pilots and astronauts everywhere find it touching, and according to Wikipedia "it is required to be recited by memory by first-year cadets at the United States Air Force Academy" (way to buzz-kill, USAF).

YouTube: Old US television channel sign-off: setting of High Flight to footage of PLANES! :D

The reading and music in that clip don't do anything for me; the overall effect's a bit corny (not too much, though, just to the extent that even the most dignified American things are). They're nice plane clips, though. Reading subtitles of the poem along to those would probably be quite uplifting.

I'm not old enough to remember channel sign-offs (not because I wasn't born, but because I don't have much memory). This one is from 1986, the year my little brother was born. I believe our ones in the UK had the national anthem or Big Ben or something…

My little love affair with planes has never been requited (thanks to my rubbish eyesight) or consummated, other than one short flight we took at Space Camp where I experienced weightlessness for a short time. That's discounting international flights, of course, which are to jet fighters what the number 42 is to a Formula One car.

In an amusing coinkydink, jet fighter duels are commonly called "dogfights". Hmmm…