I had suspected since the beginning of our relationship that the FAA (Federal Flight Administration) had no sense of humor. When my annual medical exam revealed that I had Parkinson’s, I realized these guys weren’t going to fool around. It had taken nearly ten years to log 3700 flight hours mostly on instrument flight plans. But it didn’t take the Feds long at all to decide that a pilot (whose nickname should have been Captain Shaky) needed to turn in his license to fly. They salted my wounded ego by sending me a pre-addressed envelope to return my certificate.
Fine. Be that way. I was tempted to be really Texan about the situation and tell those boys to come and take it.
My sleek little airplane with the fancy paint job was sold to a friend. While I was still in mourning, he invited me for a short flight. And, as luck would have it, while doing the pre-flight check list, the autopilot did not want to couple with the flaps.
“It does that now and then,” said my friend in the left seat.
“No problem. Cycle the flaps and we will be on our way.”
“Where did you learn to do that?” he asked.
I tried to look wise and simply responded, “Tribal knowledge.”
Whenever you work with animals or airplanes, circular saws or circuit boards, there are always shortcuts not listed in manuals or found in textbooks. There are little things passed from generation to generation of users, what we call tribal knowledge.
If you want to know how breakfast cooks learn to flip eggs in a pan without using a spatula, let me just say the secret involves unbuttered toast. And there’s another eggciting secret too. It’s easier to flip two eggs than one egg. (Warning: Apparently I wasn’t quite ready for prime time when I first I attempted to test that bit of tribal knowledge. The eggs went up just fine but apparently gravity has a quirk or two of its own. Instead of coming straight down, my eggs simply oozed along my mom’s freshly washed, white linen curtains.)
My grandfather taught me how to tie two cords together without the need for someone to put a finger on the knot. (Form a loop in one loose end; thread the other loose end through the loop and, when you pull the loose end tight, the sharp bend in the cord will hold it tight while you finish the job. To check if your work will pass inspection, pluck the now joined cords and expect it to sound like a musical instrument.)
If you will effort just a bit, you will discover all kinds of tribal knowledge that deserves to be passed to the future generations of your family.
I recall a time when our son called from the garage asking for my help with a flat tire on his bicycle. I heard the door swing open and then a call for Dad. You know, the three syllable kind, pronounced, “Daaaaad!
“I’m on the phone,” I yelled back. “Take the tire off and call me when you are ready.”
I wrapped up my call and thought about going to the garage. Note: I said, ‘thought’ about it.
A few minutes passed and I heard the garage door swing open. Then, “Daaaad? I’m ready for you to help.”
“Still on the phone.” I was fibbing just a little. I was on the phone…making another call. “Call me when you have the tube out.”
You can see where this was going. After walking him through the steps of fixing a flat. I walked into the garage just as he was ready to tighten the nut on the axle, the last step.
I took the wrench from his hand and tightened the nut before saying, “OK. Now that you know how it’s done, next time you can do this without me!”
You knew it was coming and well, here it is: We’re all going to die and, as the saying goes, “You can’t take it with you.” But you can pass it on. The tribal knowledge that was passed to you deserves to be passed to the next generation. It’s one way to respect the genius of those who came before you. And it’s the only way I know for you to live forever.
Pass on the knowledge of Positively Outrageous Service,
tell a friend to call us today at (830) 792-5555
