11/03/2008 05:12 am ET | Updated May 25, 2011

I Can Fly This Plane Just Fine, Darn It!

Why, hello there, folks! May I call you "folks"? I'll be your pilot today. What? Am I "qualified" to fly this jalopy? You betcha! Why? Because I'm a mom, that's why. No, I don't know what all these switches and handles and whatnot are. I don't CARE what they are, to tell ya the truth. The important thing is that I'm ready, I'm willing, and (wink) I'm eager as heck to get the job done! THAT'S what matters.

Doncha think? O-kay then. Here we go!

Whoops! Whew. That's a lotta noise. And just a teensy bit of fire back there. But what the heck, right? It's fuel, and energy happens to be my specialty.

What? Who's that fella yellin' over the radio? Air traffic control? Well, who the heck cares? No, honestly, really: Who cares? I sure as heck don't, and I don't think my passengers do either.

What's my heading? What's my heading? We're on the right track and we know where we want to go, that's for darn sure.

No, I'm not going to give you my "bearings," or whatever it is you call those little numbers. Look here, Buster, I might not answer those questions the way you or the other pilots might like. But you know what? I'm going to talk straight to my passengers here, without the filter of any darned air traffic controllers or FAA or whatever the heck you all are calling yourselves now.

I mean, how good can you guys be at your jobs, anyhoo? There are just a heck of a lot, I mean a HECK of a lot of plane crashes all the darn time. So real people like me and my passengers figure it's time for some fresh air in this whole flying business anyway.

What? What are you saying there in your fancy-dancy tower down there? We don't have towers like that on Main Street in Wasilla, buster, you can bet your life. Nope. Just a whole heck of a lot of common sense, which is all too rare in this world today, doncha think?

And if I can handle a crying baby and ban a book and milk the federal government for all the pork my little town can hold, all at the same time, then for cryin' out loud don't you think I can fly your darn little airplane?

What? are you TALKING again? Saying that most crashes are due to pilot error? Like, because the pilot didn't KNOW stuff?

There you go again with your LOOKING BACK. We'd rather look FORWARD where I come from. But then, heck, I guess that's just the darned difference between you and us, isn't it? But you're a good talker, though. I'll give ya that.

Why aren't I changing my heading to zero-one-niner as instructed? Because I'm the mommy, that's why, Mr. Smarty-Pants. I think I've got enough sense to know when to turn a darn airplane.

What's that? Raise flaps? Raise FLAPS? Raise flaps or we'll CRASH? There you go again, raising the white flag of surrender just when we ....

..... [static] ...

Wait. Team, I think we found a survivor. He's in critical condition - looks like he'll need surgery right here at the crash site. But a routine depressurizing of the skull should save his life. Thank God the neurosurgeon's here. Save this one, Doc.

Oh, heck. Ouch. That's gotta hurt, right? No, I didn't go to any fancy-dancy medical school but I'm a Mom so believe-you-me I've seen a booboo or two in my day and if somebody around here just has a sharp thimgamajig we'll have you fixed up in a jiffy. Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit!

RJ Eskow blogs at: