BELOW THE WATER LINE
(pt. 200)
As Orville said to Wilbur: 'Hey Wilbur,
let's bring this thing down!' I've always
been enamored of Kitty Hawk, and those
two goofball bicycle brothers. Ohio. The
beach winds of Kitty Hawk North Carolina.
And the slug-heap masquerade beachfronts
of Sewaren, NJ. A stone's throw here from
Avenel. To my mind, not that much of a
difference between them. Anything could
have happened there. Anything could have
happened here. The thing about Orville and
Wilbur is that they've been misrepresented
all through history. 1904 to now, or whatever
it was, and whatever it is now. (When you
write like this, it's important to be always
conscious of the moving horizon to which
you are writing. For a good part of me,
right now, it's Spring, 2016, the first full
day of, in fact. But if I seal off that fact,
without realizing you may be reading this
in 2019, 2029, or 2050, for all I know
(very little). So, the writer's proclamation
here of 'present time', around that I skirt.
(Why box it in?).
-
Everybody goes about saying, of the
Wrights, 'they invented airplanes,' or
flight, or air-travel, or whatever. Flight
escapades and experimenters were all
around them - it was part of the 'gestalt' to
use an overly-arch Germanic silly word, the
'gestalt' of the day was that Mankind could
fly, and would. Icarus notwithstanding.
The' experimenters and little workshop
guys were plentiful. What the Wright
Brothers did, along with Charlie Taylor,
their trusted helper and sidekick (who, as
usual, did a lot more of the work then
he's credited for and than you know),
was to invent, not 'flight', but the
'CONTROLS' with which to make
flight and flight adjustments possible
for fixed-wing (albeit primitive) aircraft.
(Three-axle controls allows flight
adjustment while underway, having a
pilot adjust for steering and equilibrium;
and more). I always looked at what they
did as something akin to the craft of
'writing' - any fool can gush on paper,
or on a keyboard anyway now, reams and
piles of words : broken heart, how I love
you bullshit, romantic riffs about eternity
and beaches, birds and the phoenix who
rises from the ashes, every hallowed
cliche in the amateur-writer's handbook.
Yeah, like we all want to hear that stuff.
Bleat on, poetry slammers, local
writer-groups, the wing-spanned derelicts
of school and of hobby. Look to the
Wright Brothers! What you need is NOT
more emotive gush, the muck you call
'writing' - what's needed are the
CONTROLS to make it so. That's why
I always took a liking to the Wright
Brothers, in spite of all that's come
after : hoteliers in the sky, reclining
seats, the movies, food and drinks,
the soft-pedaled footromps of
hostesses and pilots, and the
in-flight poop decks,
quite literally!
-
I come from Avenel. And for two
hundred of these Avenel days now,
I've been posting story-line ideas
of remembrance, fact and picture-post
reminiscence of all that went before.
I've loved it, loved working on it, and
loved the follow-up. The Wright Brother's
controls have always been in the back
of my mind. I'd attached some wings,
leaped from a cliff, and, yes, found
I was flying. The view has been great,
and the air-currents exhilarating -
and for some of that too, I thank you
all. Those who have read anyway.
As Lily Tomlin, I think it was, once
put it :'Without you, I'm nothing.'
-
This is to be my final 'Water Line' post.
It's some manly, Avenel guy's boast to
say 'Give 'em Hell.' And I feel I have,
some, and probably did, some. Interest.
Damage. Knowledge. Learning, and the
fun of some good jokes too! I'm still to
be daily-writing, and posting, a new
project. It's a bit too different, as I see
it, and off in a little bit of another, more
'writerly', direction. To just assume my
Avenel friends and 'Water Line' readers
would be interested, or continue to get
something from it in the same way,
would be presumptuous of me, and
wrong. Two-hundred mornings of
reading is enough for anyone. Like
the Wright Brothers' flight, what's
made my own flight good are the
controls I've willingly adhered to,
kept to and discovered
along the way.
-
'Let's bring it down, Wilbur, and
see if this thing lands.' --
thanks, everyone. gar
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