Blogs

It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon in DC. A light breeze ruffles through my hair as my dad looks on disapprovingly. Get a hair cut!Ӕ he says. I respond with a sigh. I know, I knowӔ.

We were walking down the National Mall and I was itching to go to the Air and Space Museum. The rest of the family didnt share my enthusiasm for all things winged, and so they continued towards the Lincoln Memorial while I walked in for a look. I wanted to visit the museum not because of the aircraft exhibits, but the flight simulator.

I first heard of the simulator a few weeks previously at a birthday party. My nephewҒs friend whom I had met was so excited about his experience in the museum's simulated F-4 Phantom Jet, that I couldn't wait to experience it myself. Apparently the simulator was of the full motion variety. Real enough that those with heart trouble, or back and neck injuries were warned to stay away from.

So it was with eager steps that I walked past the exhibit displaying the famous Apollo 11 Command Module and entered the queue at the West end of the building. It didn't take me long to realize that this was kids' zone and I was only one of a smattering number of adults there. All of us were eager and excited. I paid for the ticket and waited for my turn.

Before entering the simulator we were asked to empty our pockets and place the contents in a locker. This was serious stuff. You dont want things falling off your pocket and turning into untethered projectile when youҒre flying upside down.

I get strapped into my seat. The cab door is closed. Its dark save for the simulated display in front of me. IҒm on an aircraft carrier, somewhere off the coast of Vietnam. I hear the rumble of the engines and soon the take-off roll begins 3..2..1.. Full throttle...stick pulled back...and Im off the carrier deck into the blue yonder.

I rapidly gain altitude and notice a bogey at my 2 OҒ Clock. I maneuver into position behind and below the aircraft and press the missile launch button. There is a swooshing sound and a missile leaps past me, hitting the target spot-on. That was easy I thought. Bogeys gone! Replaced by a smoking wreckage that traces a Pynchon arc on its way down.

Although there are many more enemy aircraft in the air, I soon stop going after them. SomethingҒs wrong, dead WRONG! It just doesnt feel right. The plane doesnҒt feel right!

I return to straight and level flight and ignore all enemy fire. Stick now pushed to the left, the plane obligingly enters a left banking turn. Whoa! I start sliding immediately in my seat and get pushed hard against the left-hand side of the cab. This is not what I would've expected in a real aircraft!

If youre flying by the seat-of-the-pants in a real airplane and you are in a turn, as long as you are using the rudder correctly, you will not slide in your seat. Your posterior stays put (thatҒs why its called seat-of-the-pants flying I suppose). Even if the rudder is not used, which is the case in this simulator since rudder pedals are not installed, as soon as the banking angle is established and the ailerons returned to their neutral position with respect to the airflow, you will not experience the sideways forces that will cause you to slide and get pushed to one side of the aircraft.

So as you would have guessed, the experience in the simulator left me a little underwhelmed. While I didnҒt expect the ride to replicate the kinesthetic sensations one would experience in a million dollar hardware mounted on a Stewart platform, even within the limitations of the F-4 simulator, better coding would have increased the kinesthetic realism. And writing such code is not exactly rocket science. Any high school kid could do it with suitable mentoring.

Kinesthetic realism is indispensable if you want to teach someone to fly by the seat-of-the-pants, a skill that is essential in the making of a good pilot. There is a memorable scene from Pearl Harbor, the movie, in which Ben Affleck faces the prospect of failing his eye exam and getting his flight status revoked. He has just been accepted to fight the war on the side of the British against the Germans. Now only a jumble of letters on the wall stand in the way between him and his dreams of flying for the RAF in the Battle of Britain.

He struggles with the letters on the chart. Gets them wrong, mixes them up. The nurse says shes sorry, but given his performance she canҒt possibly pass him because its the requirement of the Army and Navy that all their pilots have 20/20 vision.

But his eyes are fine he argues; its alphabets that bother him. She looks at him and innocently suggests that perhaps he should go back to school, do a few more extra years and then try again next time when heҒs ready.

No, hes not dumb, he says. HeҒs had schooling and hes passed all the necessary exams. Just look at his file. Look at his scores in math and spatial reasoning. Ain't that something! ItҒs just letters that appear visually all pear-shaped and reversed to him, a condition we call dyslexia but which wasn't widely known then.

Next, in what must be the most eloquent defence of flying by the seat-of-the-pants that Ive heard, Ben Affleck proceeds to plead with the nurse that ғYou dont dog fight with manuals. You donҒt fly with gauges. Its all about feeling, and speed...and letting that plane become like a part of your body. The manual says that the guy who is a slow reader canҒt be a good pilot, but that file youre holding says IҒm the best pilot in the room. Maam, please...donҒt take my wings.

I liked Pearl Harbor, a delightful blend of historical fact, fiction and Hollywood storytelling. And what an amazingly gorgeous song by Faith Hill. Who can forget that line in the chorus when she sings ԓIn my dreams I always see you soar above the sky. Boy, I wish I could write songs like that. IԒm reminded of Abdu'l-Bahas words that ғa wondrous melody is wings for the spirit. I found this to be certainly true of that song. It lifts my spirits and puts an extra spring in my step whenever I hear it.

Songs can have great emotional power and they can change our world by changing the way we think and talk about ourselves. It was through a song that the phrase ԑon a wing and a prayer first entered the cultural lexicon. Released in 1943, the song which was titled "Coming in on a Wing and a Prayer" was about a damaged plane trying, against all odds, to make it back to base during World War II. It will always remind me of hope and the resiliency of the human spirit in the face of adversity.