Musings: Passing of the headset

Last summer, Matt flew to Seattle with a group of young people to participate in an international quizzing program. Flying at 30,000 feet, he was infected with the aviation bug. When Matt returned home, he talked nonstop about flying. So, for Christmas, his parents surprised him with a gift certificate for an introductory flight at a local airport. With a sense of joy and excitement fanned by my own love of flying, my wife and I drove from Nichols, New York, to Milford, Ohio, to be cheerleaders on Matt’s special day.

I packed one of my two David Clark headsets in an AOPA case as a gift. The idea of giving it to Matt made me feel as if I would own a part in his new adventure.

Saturday morning arrived, charged with excitement as the family climbed into the van and headed to Clermont County Airport in Ohio. This turned out to be a double treat for me since Clermont County is the home of Sporty’s Pilot Shop, where my headsets were purchased using their online services. Walking into Sporty’s, I was like a kid walking into a candy store filled with delightful treats—a true mixture of museum and aviation.

We were warmly greeted by Trey, a young man with a firm handshake, who was Matt’s flight instructor for the morning. After initial introductions, the family took the elevator to the second floor where we could observe Matt and Trey as they walked past a lineup of gorgeous Skyhawks—each one begging for the air—until finally reaching the chosen one. I felt a sense of pride watching Matt carry his headset alongside Trey carrying his. The headset dangling from his left hand gave the appearance that he was already a part of the flying world.

I was happy he was going to learn to fly, but jealous that his opportunity was coming at such an early age.Watching them from the observation deck, I could almost hear what Trey was saying as they arrived at the airplane for the preflight inspection. I became the interpreter for the eagerly watching family, answering their questions at each stage of the preflight inspection: “What are they doing now?” Later, Matt said that when he put on his headset, Trey remarked, “Your headset looks just like mine.”

“They will start taxing and then stop to check the brakes,” I explained to the family—which they did, then off they went down the taxiway heading for Runway 22.

In the absence of questions, my thoughts now turned inward as I remembered when I walked toward a Cessna for the first time and headed for the right side of the airplane. But then I was directed to the pilot’s seat by the instructor, who jokingly declared that he was along just for the ride.

Strange feelings of envy challenged my feelings of joy for Matt. I was happy that he was going to learn to fly, but jealous that his opportunity was coming at such an early age. I earned my certificate at the age of 67, purchased a Cessna Skyhawk, and flew for eight years. Eventually, I sold it after retirement and haven’t flown since then. I envied the young flight instructors who had years of flying adventures ahead of them who could climb into a Skyhawk and own the sky for a few hours or experience the delight of teaching others how to command an airplane from the ground to the air and back again.

I watched the line crew guiding airplanes after landing to their taxied spots welcoming pilots to Clermont County. If I could turn the clock back, I would train for a flight instructor certificate or even gladly become a “hangar bum.” Or, in some other way, step back into that secluded world of aviation; but Father Time only smiles without any reset. It was a great day, however, even with the emotional struggle. The invitation, the headset, and being the family interpreter delivered me from a total emotional grounding.

After landing, Trey filled out Matt’s flight certificate and entered 0.6 in Matt’s first logbook. He then expressed appreciation that we had come and encouraged Matt to continue flying. Back in the family van, Matt, who was all smiles since landing, expressed with great enthusiasm that he had taxied the airplane, rotated it on takeoff, and flew except for taking pictures, which immediately found their way onto Facebook.

Matt’s experience rekindled the spark for flying within me as I wondered what to do. Make an appointment to see if I can pass the physical, and then rent an airplane? Or fire up my simulator in the basement and be content to fly there? Or, be satisfied to fly vicariously through Matt in his future experiences and just “suck it up” and deal with the generational shift?

I will not use the headset I gave Matt again, but only hope that he will find hours of fun-filled adventures listening through them. The headset has successfully transitioned the generational shift, and I will, too.

Ken Lindsey is a private pilot living inupstate New York.