Above the Smog - Observations of a Pilot

Kris Allen is the new American Idol, Lebron James beats Kobe Bryant as the best player in the NBA, and So You Think You Can Dance? will air two hours every Tuesday night this fall. If you're excited to hear me weigh in on any of the above, I'll try and make it simple:

I am no longer a 13-year old girl and therefore haven't watched American Idol since Paula fell off the wagon for the fifth time and Simon made that 78-year old woman cry because her rendition of Holla Back Girl "made me want to dig my eyes out with a bloody spoon."

I could care less what Lebron James and Kobe Bryant do because sports bore me to the point of exhaustion, and if I have to read one more Facebook status that says something like "Come on Cavs, let's get it together!" I may go postal. No Calf is reading your Facebook updates, and even if one were, I don't think he'd go "you know, he's right? We really DO need to get it together!" and then he'd solve world hunger while winning the Super Bowl and building an animal shelter all at once because YOU told him to straighten up and fly right. Do the Cavs even play football? This is how little I care. 

As for dancing reality shows...well, when Jesus gets back he's going to be pissed, so I'll let him deal with that.

When it seems like things are becoming too ridiculous to deal with here on the ground, I take to the skies. That's just what I did yesterday. We drove to the airport, grabbed a helicopter and took off.

Having flown in the Southern California region for five years now, I've learned some very interesting things about our city. When you're coming in on a commercial jet that has a landing speed of 210 miles per hour, you're not afforded much chance to really see what L.A. looks like from the air. Also, it's L.A., and the layer of smog that hangs over downtown like a gentle reminder that our city will soon resemble the opening scenes from Wall-E blocks most aerial views anyway. Luckily, the planes I fly are a little slower, a little more maneuverable, and allow me the opportunity to see L.A. the way most people never will.

Some of what I've learned in my years of flying that I otherwise may not have known:

There are dolphins living off the coast of Malibu. Lots of them. My theory is that they're all related to Flipper, who was the most famous superstar dolphin of all time and is now in the Promises rehab facility in Malibu due to a trout addiction. Hollywood isn't easy, even for the stars.

The distance from the San Fernando Valley to LAX is only about half a mile. You can be hovering over the valley and see the airport from Van Nuys. When you're on the ground it feels like it's about 35 miles due to the traffic. City planners got clever and posted signs at the 405 and 10 interchange with sayings like "LAX Airport 5 Miles" or "You're Almost There, Don't Give Up Now!" to fool drivers. LAX is half a block from the 405 and 10 interchange. If drivers knew that, they'd pressure the city to clear up the traffic, but the mayor is too busy feeling the warm front of the new weather girl at Telemundo to deal with that.

A lot of people have celebrations going on in Compton. Stray bullets fly through the air at all hours of the day and night as people shoot their guns high above their heads in joy. It's nice to see people enjoying life again.

The layout of Disneyland is shaped like a Swastika. The FAA doesn't allow us to fly within a three-mile radius of the park unless you're above 10,000 feet. So I flew at 10,000 feet, and sure enough. All heil Mickey Mouse.

You won't find it on Google maps, but there is a secret spot where the 110, the 10, the 405, the 105, the 710 and the 605 freeways all converge. Here, time stops and goblins fly through the air and Paris Hilton is the mayor and nothing is what it seems.

Everyone but me has a swimming pool.

The L.A. River is a myth. Someone built a concrete trench that weaves its way through the city and out to the ocean, but according to Wikipedia, the source of all information in the world, a river requires water. There is no water in the L.A. River. Just a sweet place to rollerblade.

For Grey's Anatomy fans, I hate to break it to you but Seattle Grace Hospital isn't really in Seattle. It's the Veteran's Administration Hospital and it's located 80 feet north of the Van Nuys runway. McDreamy lied to you.

The Hollywood sign is a great place to stash a body. The W provides the most cover, I've found.

That said, if you're ever in the need of a little space, hop into a plane and leave the ground for a little while. I'm headed to the Grand Canyon for Memorial Day Weekend and flying will put me there in just over two hours, mainly due to the fact that I won't have to sit on the 10 freeway in Duarte for half a day while the CHP cleans up the remnants of the camper that tipped over in front of us.

Sounds easier said than done? Visit www.HollywoodAviators.com, where $99 will give you an introductory lesson that puts YOU at the controls of an airplane. I did it five years ago and I've never looked back. Well I looked back once when we hit some turbulence and my beer can rolled into the back seat but I took care of it.