Mistrusting the computer machine

My dad is a private pilot. He flew up here to Birmingham yesterday and took me for a ride. We talked a lot about the physics of flying. Wow, he is a font of information. Of course, this is not nearly as impressive as the fact that when I was in college, he was building an airplane in the basement. Not a radio-controlled airplane—he's built those too, and boats, and helicopters—but an actual airplane that he was going to sit in and pilot. He didn't finish it because he gave himself carpal tunn...