You may remember Bossy from this past Monday — she was the muckle of frizz who trained her eye on you for the duration of her six-hour flight to the West Coast.
It’s not that Bossy thought you incapable of negotiating the various lift and drag components resulting in the proximal air field’s compression and redirection. It’s just that Bossy admired the way nothing seemed to phase you. For instance, you didn’t appear the least bit worried when you became surrounded by a cloud field mid-flight.
It was so cute the way you rattled like a piece of discarded tin as you surrendered to the stochastic momentum, diffusion, and convection of pressure and velocity in space and time.
And Bossy thinks it was charming the way you expanded your flaps upon descending — like when Bossy’s grandmother used to add leaves to the dining room table at Thanksgiving because that always helps when landing a 836,000 pound aircraft.
And lastly, Bossy loved how your little tin flaps were wholly responsible for bringing Bossy’s 500-miles-per-hour plane to a stand still in front of the gate that would deliver Bossy to Southern California.
So thank you dear Airplane Wing. If there’s ever anything Bossy can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask. For instance tightening all your loose bolts.