Today, I flew. Less as a passenger and more as a little child, full of wonder and marvel at the passing clouds, the tiny life scurrying about beneath my feet, and at the feel of the yoke in my hands as I worked to steady the small cabin that held us a thousand feet in the sky. It was my first flying lesson. Since childhood, maybe 5 or 6, I had a handful of goals: Become an Archeologist or an Astronomer — or both, own a motorcycle — more specifically a chopper, become a Pilot of small planes — as
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