The Twenty Minuters

Just home from a day’s banner towing around the West Country with Captain Bob and I see that the edit fairy has been playing with my Computer Weekly column today, the one about Unisys bending to the inevitable with Linux on the ES7000. If you compare this with the original on this site, you’ll spot the differences, as quite obviously, the editor wanted me to appear a little more controversial than I had intended.



So, what was a tongue-in-cheek reference to a conversation that took place five years ago is transformed into an aggressively sounding put-down. I don’t mind editing as everything I write is open to improvement but I object to editing for effect.

Anyway, a pretty miserable day around the country, except here on the North Kent coast it appears. At one point, I found myself clawing through the big cauliflower Nimbus clouds above the Solent, before making the day’s first stop at Dunkeswell.

While we were laying out one of the banners, a parachute drop took place from ten thousand feet above the airfield. I lay down in the grass and watched the free-fallers drop from the tiny aircraft high above. On one of the tiny figures, I spotted a drogue chute deploying and guessed that this must be a tandem jump. This was quickly confirmed by what I swear was an excited scream from the woman attached to the parachute instructor. He must have been laughing and screaming all the way down to the grass stretch between the two runways where I was.

Finally back into Maypole at seven O’clock after ten hours of flying in unsettled weather. An early night sounds like a good idea.


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