My friend Justin is a superb flight instructor with considerable experience in real-world flying and is charmingly full of himself. He amuses me by constantly working deals that involve flying really nice airplanes to major league games, rock concerts, ski resorts, airshows, Mardi Gras festivals, NASCAR races and weekends at somebody's oceanfront condo. Last week, I stuck my head in his office at the flight school as he was about to leave in a Cirrus, flying with somebody to a bowl game in the Carolinas; he couldn't remember if it was North or South.
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