NEWS: A Near Death by Midair Collision Date

And so there we were, on the first day of July, 1986, taking off for Nantucket in a $75 an hour Piper-Cessna. The plane, I've never forgotten, was red, white and blue, and wore the registered N81707. For her part, Dorothy's ensemble that sunny afternoon was a miniskirt, ripped-up fishnet stockings, Day-Glo orange Converse sneakers and a black T-shirt. The boys in the rental office were still staring as we lifted from runway 27 of the Beverly Municipal Airport, then commenced a long shallow bank toward Cape Cod.

Stuck in my head since 8 a.m., entirely by accident but destined for infamy, was a song. It was "The Love Cats," by the Cure. Doubtless many of you know it -- an odd little number delivered in the unmistakable, effeminate whine of vocalist Robert Smith. As I'd stepped from the shower after breakfast, they were playing it on WFNX.

"The Love Cats" contains a line, an infectious, joyous refrain, that goes like this: "Into the sea, you and me..." And over and over and over I was humming those words, with all possible ironic happiness, as Dorothy and I zipped across Cape Cod Bay at 5,000 feet. Into the sea, you and me. If ever I'm to be dealt some tragic, premature demise, by all means let it be now! Just imagine us, spinning to the ocean below. Dorothy Meyer the death-rock debutante, sharing this most sublime of fates with Patrick Smith, aspiring aviator and delusional romantic, suffering for his art the whole way down.

"Hand-in-hand is the only way to land..."

iamjacksusername said:
wait a minute...how is that interesting?