After 18 months in Vietnam, some of which involved being in, out, and around various helicopters (lots of fun for a 19-year-old, absent the part of being shot at), I came home and for a period of time attended the Rochester Institute of Technology in Rochester, NY. One day out of the clear blue (to turn a phrase) an AA-1 landed on the grounds of the campus (with permission I assume) and taxied up to the student union. The flight instructor slid back the canopy, hopped out, and began passing out brochures advertising the local flight school. $17.00 an hour ‘wet’. Cool. So I started my flight instruction. I did not last long in school, but I flew for 50 years (as a private pilot). I have not flown in a while, but I still should. And I miss flying every day that I am not.