My heart leapt when we took off in his purple single-engine Cessna, rising up like the Wright brothers, cruising over downtown Manhattan and out over Jones Beach, marveling and daydreaming, my head out the window hooting and hollering, he and I laughing and slapping five. For a young boy it was the greatest. Had I been aware that it wasn’t cool for him to be sucking on that pint of vodka in his lap while piloting the plane I might have been a little more hesitant, but hey what did I know!
