Posted on 12/24/2003 6:55:57 PM PST by annyokie
Subject: Night Before Xmas (Aviation Version)
'Twas the night before Christmas, and out on the ramp, Not an airplane was stirring, not even a Champ. The aircraft were fastened to tie downs with care, In hopes that come morning, they'd all still be there.
The fuel trucks were nestled, all snug in their spots, With gusts from two-forty at 39 knots. I slumped at the fuel desk and took off my cap, And settled down comfortably for a much-needed nap.
When the radio lit up with noise and with chatter, I turned up the scanner to see what was the matter. A voice clearly heard over static and snow, Called for clearance to land at the airport below.
He barked his transmission so lively and quick, I'd have sworn his call sign was "Jolly St. Nick". I ran to the panel to turn up the lights, The better to welcome this magical flight.
He called his position, no room for denial, "St. Nicholas One, turnin' left onto final." And what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a Rutan-built sleigh with eight Rotax Reindeer!
With vectors to final, down the glideslope he came, As he passed all fixes, he called them by name ... "Now Ringo! Now Tolga! Now Trini and Bacun! On Comet! On Cupid!" What pills was he takin'?
While controllers were sittin', and scratchin' their head, They phoned to my of fice, and I heard it with dread. The message they left was both urgent and dour: "When Santa pulls in, have him please call the tower."
He landed like silk, with the sled runners sparking, Then I heard "Turn left at Charlie and taxi to parking." He slowed to a taxi, turned off of three-oh, Then stopped on the ramp to "Ho! Ho! Ho!"
His red helmet and goggles were covered with frost And his beard was blackened from Reindeer exhaust. He stepped out of the sleigh, but before he could talk, I ran to meet him with my best set of chocks.
His breath smelled like peppermint, gone slightly stale, And he puffed on a pipe, but he didn't inhale. His cheeks were all rosy and jiggled like jelly, His boots were as black as a cropduster's belly.
He was chubby and plump, in his suit of bright red, And he asked me to fill it with hundred low-lead. He came dashing in from the snow-covered pump, I knew he was anxious for drainin' the sump.
I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work, Not used-to a sleigh, I spilled like a jerk. He came out of the restroom, and sighed with relief, Then picked up a phone for a Flight Service brief.
And I thought as he silently scribed in his log, These reindeer could land in an eight-mile fog. He completed his pre-flight, from the front to the rear, Then put on his headset, and I heard him yell "Clear!"
Checklist complete, he pressed push-to-talk, And called up the tower for clearance and squawk. "Noise abatement one mile in southbound direction, Then turn right three-two-zero at pilot's discretion."
He sped down the runway, the best of the best, "Traffic's a Trinadad, inbound from the we st." Then I heard him proclaim, as he climbed thru the night, "Merry Christmas to all! ... traffic's in sight." ============= ====================
So9
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