Stall Training

When I was a little kid, I dreamed of becoming an astronaut.

It’s not a terribly original little kid dream, of course, but I was certain it was going to happen. Born in the early 70s, America was still fresh off the towering achievement of the Apollo program, so there were plenty of books and documentaries to fuel my imagination.

Then there was Star Wars, which was nothing short of an obsession, as well as some amazing programming to keep those fires stoked. Two, in particular, stand out: the OG Cosmos book and TV show from Carl Sagan and these cool five-minute “Jack Horkheimer: Star Hustler” shows that would air daily on PBS. Each episode revealed what constellations and other cool heavenly occurrences could be viewed in the night sky that week. Each episode ended with Jack’s catchphrase: “Keep. Looking. Up.”

I was hooked.

As I grew older, I learned (or, at least, was told) the smoothest path to the astronaut program was through the military. I also learned that, at the time, the chances of my getting into a cockpit with eye floaters and less-than-perfect vision were slim to none.

Goodbye astronaut program.

My other passion was storytelling. My parents’ best friends owned a print shop in my hometown, and for reasons still unknown, they took me under their wing and showed me how I could take that joy of storytelling and turn it into a career. They did a lot of printing for the big ad agencies in and around Boston, and as I hit high school, I became more and more certain this was my path.

Hello marketing and advertising.

I’m grateful that I’ve been able to build a career as a marketeer and a storyteller. I’m grateful that I had some incredible people in my life who helped me to figure out, at a very early age, that I could make a decent living doing what I love. But I never quite shook the astronomy/aviation bug. Still haven’t.

A year or so after graduating from Northeastern, I decided to do something about it. I started taking flying lessons out of a small airport in my hometown (KLWM for you pilots out there), and it was glorious.

I would usually go after work, so sunset flights along the coast were not uncommon. (Something about being close to the water made stall training a little less stressful.) I had dreams of getting my license, getting a plane, and having the freedom to get a literal bird’s-eye view of the beautiful New England coastline whenever I liked.

Then I bought an engagement ring.

Then I bought a house.

Then I had a kid. And another kid. And another kid.

Although having a family and having a pilot’s license aren’t mutually exclusive, the only thing more breathtaking than learning to fly is the cost of making it happen. It just wasn’t in the cards.

Plans change. Priorities change. Life happens.

Perspective is everything.

If you’ve had similar “pipe dreams” in your life, don’t look back at them as goals unachieved. Instead, look at how those ambitions and experiences changed the trajectory of who you are and how you got to where you are today.

This same principle can be applied to the myriad curveballs that emerge on a more regular basis. Lord knows the past few years have sent quite a few our way.

Accept. Adapt. Advance.

My firstborn will graduate from university this year, and my middle child will become a sophomore. My third will start high school, so although I’m not out of the woods by any means, I can begin to see some light at the end of the tuition-induced financial tunnel. God willing, I might just get that second shot at getting a pilot’s license. Until then, a yolk and throttle controller and Flight Simulator on the Xbox will have to do.

And if it never happens, so be it. There’s just an adventure to be had elsewhere.

Keep. Looking. Up.