Back in 1994 (thirty years ago–Jesus!) I took a few flying lessons from a fellow who taught out of Santa Monica Airport, near where I then lived. I have no idea what spurred this interest, though I later found out that Prozac, which I then took, often results in manic, irrational and often flamboyant behavior and decisions. In any event I think I knew after the first lesson that I wasn’t likely to truly go the distance. It happened when we were first aloft and my teacher told me that one of the first things you should do once you’ve achieved altitude is look around below for emergency places to land. “Golf courses are the best, though highways can work depending on the hour and traffic conditions.” Above and below I’ve posted a serious of videos of emergency landings of proof as to why I was right not to pursue my short-lived ambition to fly a Cessna around the skies of Los Angeles. Happy landings!