She asks him why is he staring.

He replies, "I have a question to ask you, but I don't want to offend you."

She answers, "My son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive."

The cabbie says, "Well, I've always had a fantasy to have a nun kiss me."

She responds, "Well, let's see what we can do about that: #1, you have to be single and #2, you must be Catholic."

The cab driver is very excited and says, "Yes, I am single and I'm Catholic!"

"OK" the nun says. "Pull into the next alley."

The nun fulfills his fantasy with a kiss that would make a hooker blush. But when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying.

"My dear child, said the nun, why are you crying?"

"Forgive me but I've sinned. I lied. I must confess, I'm married and I'm Jewish."

The nun says, "That's OK, my name is Kevin and I'm going to a Halloween party."

The strange thing is, it hasn't been because I've been so busy.

I've actually been "between deals" for the last few weeks, although I have been doing a lot of "catch up" on things I had to defer because I was so busy.

So, I can't use work as an excuse. I guess I'll just have to go with the "I'm slack" explanation.

Anyway...

Once upon a time, I was a pilot.

Long, long, ago (well, twenty years or so) I was a private pilot. I earned my wings during a "pause" in my college education. I was working in an aviation related endeavor, and had ready access to a training aircraft and flight instructors. After I returned to school, I continued to fly a little bit, but between a significant decrease in income and a decrease in disposable time, I didn't fly as much as I would have liked to. Shortly after graduating, I got a job which expected (required?) significant amounts of (unpaid) overtime at slave wages, I got married, and had an instant family (two half-grown kids), all of which conspired to further reduce my disposable income and time. So, I stopped flying.

Well, now, the kids are gone and (mostly) paid for, my income is a little better, and I definitely need a hobby. My first thought was to get another motorcycle. I used to have a Yamaha Virago, and had always wanted something a little quicker, but I wasn't really the "crotch rocket" sort of guy. Then, Harley-Davidson came out with the V-Rod. Yumm! Just the right mix of comfort and power and it is oh so beautiful.

Well, Jeanie wasn't too keen on me getting another bike. She wasn't keen on me zooming around the roads on something that potentially had more power than I had sense, and she never really did enjoy riding with me. I really did want something we could enjoy together, and when I saw how much a new V-Rod costs, I started thinking... hmm, for what a new V-Rod costs, I could almost buy a small used airplane! Jeanie loves to fly too, so we could both enjoy this.

So, I decided to start flying again. No problem, right? Just go get my FAA medical renewed, take a few lessons, and up, up, and away!

So, off I went to the yellow pages to find an AME (Aviation Medical Examiner) to get my medical. I figured I'd select an AME who was a pilot, since I figured he (there were no female AMEs in the area) would be more supportive of a fellow aviator's desire to get back to the wild blue yonder.

Well, when I was twenty, about my only health concern was a surplus of adolescent male hormones - which isn't a disqualifying condition as far as the FAA is concerned. Unfortunately, in those intervening twenty plus years, I have accumulated a few bits of medical baggage. Nothing too abnormal - mild hypertension, cholesterol higher than ideal - typical middle-age type stuff.

No biggie I thought. I did some research on the web, and it didn't appear that I had any conditions which would disqualify me.

Well, it turns out that I made a number of errors in the process.

First, it seems that many (most) AMEs view their role in aviation not as facilitators for getting you flying, but as gatekeepers whose mission is to find any excuse to keep you from flying!

Second, it appears that even if you don't have a disqualifying condition, anything in your medical past can be used by the AME to justify him choosing to not hand you your medical certificate, and defer the decision to the FAA directly.

Third, don't believe the AME when he tells you that you'll get a letter from the FAA within three weeks letting you know what additional information they will require to further evaluate your application. Turns out that it takes twelve to fourteen weeks!

So, here I sit, with my application buried in some poor overworked FAA examiner's in-box, waiting to hear what additional hoops I must jump through. Based on my additional research, I think - if I am persistent - that I will eventually get my medical, but, it looks like it could be as long as another six months...

In the mean time, I am studying like a fiend. Turns out, a lot has changed (airspace rules for example) in the last twenty years, and there's a lot that I never learned the first time around. So far, I have read two books, taken a computer based training course, and watched three training DVDs. I am in the middle of another computer based course, and have another program to help me practice my radio communications skills.

Lesson learned: Before you do anything else: go to the AOPA's web site and check out all of the wonderful resources they have in the member's medical section. If you aren't a member, and are just starting your training, they offer a free six-month student membership. Otherwise, pony up the $39.00 and join - it's money well spent. One especially good resource is their TurboMedical application. Not only will it give you a nice printout that you can take to the doctor to help guide you in filling out the form, but it will alert you to any potential "red flags" that might trip you up. Most importantly, call the nice AOPA medical specialists at (800) USA-AOPA (800/872-2672) and ask them to refer you to a nice AME. Personal experience to the contrary, they assure me that some do exist!

The waiter says, "Sure chief, coming right up."

He gets the Indian a tall mug of coffee.

The Indian drinks the coffee down in one gulp, then turns and blasts the buffalo with the shotgun, splattering blood and parts of the animal all over, then walks out.

The next morning the Indian returns.

He has his shotgun in one hand pulling another male buffalo with the other.

He walks up to the counter and says to the waiter, "Me want coffee."

The waiter says, "Whoa, Tonto! We're still cleaning up your mess from yesterday. What the heck was all that about, anyway?"

The Indian smiles and proudly says, "Me training for upper management position: Come in, drink coffee, shoot the bull, leave mess for others to clean up, disappear for rest of day."