My, you are a perfect specimen, perfectly designed
and honed through countless ages of evolution to match the specific qualities
needed for the completion of your task like a streamlined missile streaking
towards its target or a dart to the bullseye! You are heavy enough to resist
the air currents but light enough to ride on the wind, instinctively counterbalancing
the gusts with countless calculations. Strong muscles propel you forward, fixed
on your destination, never distracted and never quitting your mission. We
humans copy your slipstream choreography in cycling events using the vacuum of
the strongest rider as you use the strength of the lead goose in your V shaped
formation. Do you know that imitation is the sincerest form of complement? Your
body is oily to keep you warm as you fly through freezing winter skies. If this
plane malfunctioned, I would plummet to my death, while you would just glide
down to make a soft landing, adjust your plumage and resume your flight.
Goodbye for now Goose as you rise up and away with your flock in tow. I hope that our paths cross again.
Just as the flock was disappearing over the horizon they veered back. Returning, the lead Goose came right up to my window, pulled one of his feet from its landing gear position and stuck a post-It note on the glass before me. It read thus:
Dear
Human,
I don’t believe that you are a hunter, so I am going to give you a chance to live. The pilot has an open bottle of Grey Goose in the cockpit, and it is already one third finished! I saw him open it. Tell the stewardess quickly; she will know what to do. This is not the first time.
Good luck!
THE GOOSE
I quickly called over Amy, the stewardess and
told her that someone had seen a bottle of vodka in the cockpit.
“Oh no, not again. I thought that he had it under control” she said. Pushing her beret down on her brow ready for a fight, she stormed off to the cockpit. I heard some commotion as Amy wrestled the bottle from the pilot and ran to the bathroom to dispose of it. She returned with a pot of black coffee from the pantry, yelling at him to drink it down or she would call the FAA. The pilot did as she asked, pleading with her to keep her quiet and save his career. Our plane made a soft landing at the airport. For a minute there, I thought that my goose was cooked.
Goodbye for now Goose as you rise up and away with your flock in tow. I hope that our paths cross again.
Just as the flock was disappearing over the horizon they veered back. Returning, the lead Goose came right up to my window, pulled one of his feet from its landing gear position and stuck a post-It note on the glass before me. It read thus:
I don’t believe that you are a hunter, so I am going to give you a chance to live. The pilot has an open bottle of Grey Goose in the cockpit, and it is already one third finished! I saw him open it. Tell the stewardess quickly; she will know what to do. This is not the first time.
Good luck!
THE GOOSE
“Oh no, not again. I thought that he had it under control” she said. Pushing her beret down on her brow ready for a fight, she stormed off to the cockpit. I heard some commotion as Amy wrestled the bottle from the pilot and ran to the bathroom to dispose of it. She returned with a pot of black coffee from the pantry, yelling at him to drink it down or she would call the FAA. The pilot did as she asked, pleading with her to keep her quiet and save his career. Our plane made a soft landing at the airport. For a minute there, I thought that my goose was cooked.
October 22’ Jim
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