Poker Face, Poker Voice: God Love the Pilots

As many readers here know, the bloghusband is a private pilot. Wild Willy and I log more than a few hours of flight time every year in our 1977 single engine, six-place, Beechcraft Bonanza. Mostly, we fly to our home on Martha's Vineyard, but through the years, and before the birth of our son, we had many adventures into the wild blue yonder. No stranger to brushes with death while sitting in the right seat, I secretly try to determine if my pilot, in fact, is as freaked out as I am during some flights. Oddly, my pilot husband is the epitome of composure at all times, even during some of the more serious in-flight incidences, which are inevitable considering hours logged. I just had to chuckle in appreciation and understanding when I listened to the Flight 1549 audiotape, between the pilot and ATC, released today. Two guys, totally calm, trying to arrange a landing, which just so happened to be in the Hudson River.

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