Taildragger poem, Author unknown

[CarlMauro@aol.com]

'Luscombe Stories

07/15/1999 - Taildragger poem, Author unknown.

This poem was copied off the wall from an old airport at East Moline,
Illinois. The author certainly was not flying a Luscombe. I certainly hope
that none of the Luscombe group found the Luscombe this challenging.

TAILDRAGGER

Taildragger, I hate your guts,
I have the license , ratings and
such
But to make you go straight is
driving me nuts.
With hours of teaching and the
controls in my clutch
It takes a little rudder, easy, that's
too much.

You see, I learned to fly in a
tricycle gear
with one up front and two in the
rear.
She was sleek and clean and easy
to steer
But this miserable thing with tires
and struts
Takes a little rudder, easy, that's
too much.

It demands your attention on the
take-off roll
Or it'll head towards Jones's as
you pour on the coal.
Gotta hang loose, don't over
control.

This wicked little plane is just too
much
With a lot of zigzagging and words
obscene
I think I've mastered this slippery
machine.
It's not that bad if you have the
touch
Just a little rudder, easy, that's too
much.

I relax for a second and from the
corner of my eye,
I suddenly realize with a gasp and
a cry
That's my own tail that's going by.
You ground looping wreck; I hate
your guts,
Give a little rudder, Great Scott,
THAT'S TOO MUCH.

Author unknown'