Tonight's flight, like so many others, has been pure routine. We were wheels-up right on time out of LAX, air traffic control hasn't delayed us in holding patterns or vectored us to Hoboken and back, and the 320 Airbus we're driving is a snappy bird that more or less flies by itself -- pilots call it the "bionic budgie." The Flight Management and Guidance Computer, programmed with the same route American Pacific always uses for this haul, has handled all the navigation, and I haven't touched the stick since 10 seconds after takeoff. Except that a few things are very wrong. First, my gin and tonic is tinkling softly on the center console. Second, my copilot is an orange-and-white tabby. Third, a car alarm keeps going off nearby. Fourth, I don't have a pilot's license. Fifth, I'm not wearing pants. An article raising the question that I've been wondering for quite some time - why bother taking flying lessons on a Cessna and asking how it differs from a 727 when you could just get the lastest copy of Flight Sim and see for yourself? So far, The FBI doesn't seem concerned about the threat posed by flight-simulation games, but that may be because they've been focusing their attention elsewhere. The bureau's Civil Aviation Unit doesn't actively patrol the industry, relying instead on tips from concerned citizens. When I called the public relations office to ask them about the realism of my A320 simulation experience, an agent fielded the inquiry with a slightly patronizing tone until I directed her to a Web site featuring several screen shots of the virtual A320 flight deck. There was a long pause. Then, with a nervous laugh, she said, "I've never seen this before." Air Osama |
