Every now and then, I hear a stewardess or pilot say something like, "Wow, you should have seen them last night, they were all doing Patronis on the Apron. The pimped out ricer A380 was dusted by that sweet sweet 787."

What's a Patroni?

A few years ago, the plane I was on aborted its takeoff just as it dropped out of the clouds, a few thousand feet over the runway. There was that collective "woah" among us passengers as we were all firmly pushed back into our seats.

Once we had come back to a holding altitude, the pilot drawled into the PA, "Uh, as you saw, we declined that landing, 'cause there was some equipment on the runway." "Equipment?" I thought. "You mean, like somebody left a belt sander out there?"

It was a few years before I learned what the term meant in context. I think I was happier visualizing the belt sander.

Mr. Smith, if you're reading, I have a question about the word "tarmac." When I was growing up (in the 60s), I only heard the word when used by people in England. It was their word for runway, just as lorry is their word for truck and lift is their word for elevator. Nowadays, tarmac is heard all the time in the U.S. Does it still mean runway, or is runway a subset of the "tarmac" (not real tarmac, as your definition pointed out) material? If it still means runway, what happened in the last 30-40 years so that Americans adoped the term? It kind of drives me crazy.

I've been a passenger on a bunch of aborted approaches - "go arounds" - but one of my all-time favorites was at Carlsbad, CA, where the pilot in a Jetstream J31 aborted due to what he reported as "debris on the runway".

"Debris" in this particular case meant a Cessna 172 :-)

Gatehouse sounds a bit too much like outhouse to me. I'll happily stick to the gate area, thanks.

The vocabulary lesson was fun, but it doesn't address the problem I have with pilot announcements: they mumble. Or perhaps there's too much background noise in the cockpit. Whichever it is, I've never been able to make out more than one word out of three from the flight deck.

I can't remember the last time I flew in an airplane. Maybe it was the time I flew from Manchester, New Hampshire to Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina 3 or 4 years ago. During the flight I began to feel ill and after landing I was worse. My friend met me and our first few hours together were strained because of my condition. I ended up at the emergency room of UNC Hospital. I was diagnosed with blood poisoning. I was close to being in a coma condition. Death was just around the corner.

I have such an aversion to sitting in a tiny seat scrunched between fellow inmates that the thought of flying anywhere makes my head spin like I had blood poisoning. Stories of people being trapped in seats like that mentioned above for hours with no or little relief do nothing for my enjoyment that I once had in air travel.

I am a little over six feet tall and 200 pounds. I spent many years in submarines. Many years. I even piloted a bathyscaphe for about 3 years. The "ball" or personel sphere of a bathyscaphe is about 5 feet in diameter inside. That space is shared with 2 other people. I never felt claustrophobic even on dives lasting 10 hours at depths to 7,200 feet.

Put me in an airplane sitting on the tarmac waiting to taxi to the runway and its a whole different story. Not being able to move is torture.

I am going to Tampa from northern New England at the end of this month and I have elected to drive. I will take extra time to visit friends along the way in order to have the freedom of movement during the journey. I plan stops in Long Island, Norfok,VA and Kings Bay, GA and then the final stop at Tampa, FL. Statistics be damned, I would rather fly along a highway at 60 miles per hour than be shipped parcel post at 30,000 feet.

I enjoy Patrick's columns for the technical talk and his references to New England. His writings are intelligent as well. I will not fly again, however, until the airplanes get less cramped and more sure of take off and landing times.

Happy flying.

From Patrick's poem: Through the mist are the lights of Terminal Four, where the Concorde docks and where you can walk from airplane to hotel, without even stepping outside.

I thought it was just Concorde. I seem to remember reading that in this column.

/jk

"Puff up an ordinary noun to make it formal and important."

US airlines and the people involved with US commercial aviation do this all the time, but I suspect it's done for two reasons:

1) obfuscation to avoid irrational fear

2) elevating air travel beyond commuter bus and rail

This column revels in the glories and mysteries of air travel while for most travelers, it's a bus ride without a view. By speaking in jargon or using non-standard terms, the US airline industry may be trying to hold on to those long-gone salad days when air travel was novel, exciting, and relatively rare. Speaking plainly or clearing up the confusion gives away the magic act.

I remember my own excitement at air travel when I was younger and used to always request the window seat to see the world from 25,000 feet. After realizing it's usually a very boring view (relative to commuter bus or rail) of featureless cloud cover or farmland grids with no details, I've been taking the aisle.

Now if I was on a flight to Kai Tak, I'd suffer the 10 or so hours just for the view before landing.

What happened to the romance of flying?

It's not for lack of Pat's trying

I'll spend my airtime

With a pilot who rhymes

Not one who's obsessed with complying