Open Mouth Insert Foot

My father was in the military, a General and Command Pilot in the US Air Force. I was always so proud of him and I really wanted him to be proud of me too. So when I was fifteen years old I joined a group called the Civil Air Patrol. I wanted to be like my Daddy and fly.

I was in that group about three weeks and I was thrilled when our first flight came to be. It was a rather sad day as a couple of people had gone down in a plane near the Everglades and it was our job to go down there to see if we could find the plane and maybe even rescue them. I was happy to be going on the mission, as I was going to be flying, but worried about the people that were in harms way. So, I was dedicated to doing the best job I could as a 'spotter'. We flew around all day long and finally had to return to Tampa to our base, as we did not find them.

The following day we went out again looking for the aircraft, but one of our other planes finally found them and rescued the two people. It was a joyous occasion, but I was sort of disappointed it was not us that had found them. However, the pilot pointed out we would have other flights and other chances when we might be able to help find someone, so not to be discouraged. I went home tired from two days of flying around Florida but proud that I was doing a something good.

Well, that night my father came in from World War II, where he had been fighting and dropping bombs on the Germans. He had gotten a few days off to come home on a R & R, (meaning rest and relaxation) because there was a problem with some of the B17's. They had to find out what was causing the problems and get it fixed.

I was so tickled to see him and could not wait to tell him I had joined the C.A.P. and was flying also doing a job to help someone. I had to show off my uniform and strut around being the big shot. He got a kick out of it I think.

Then he asked me what I had learned about airplanes. I was quick to tell him I knew about everything there was to know about them and he just smiled his wily smile, he always did when he was about to let someone stick their foot in their mouth. I should have known I was in trouble, but was too cocky to notice.

He said, "Is that right? You know ALL about airplanes after only three weeks in the C.A.P. that is truly amazing."

I shook my head yes. "Sure do. Just ask me anything!"

"Okay," he replied. "What is the fuselage?"

With confidence and a large smile on my face, I replied, "That is the hole where they pour the gasoline."

He began to roar with laughter. "IF that is what you learned in the C.A.P. then we are in big trouble. The fuselage is not the hole where you put the gasoline. It is the whole body of the airplane that holds the pieces together and the pilot sits in the front in the cockpit. I'm just glad I didn't ask you what the cockpit was?" He kept on laughing. After a while he added, "Always remember this not to show your ignorance unless you are SURE of something; by the way, there is no such thing as a 'sure' thing!"

He never let me live that one down. After that I made a point to really learn something about airplanes, and never discussed them with him again. I might add it wasn't the C.A.P.s fault, they had never even mention airplane part to me. I was just trying to sound knowledgeable and had made a fool out of myself.