Spring time means one thing in my family: baseball season.
I arrived at the Yankee Stadium parking lot just as the first pitch of the first inning was being thrown. The fresh, crisp, spring air cleared my lungs and the echo of the cheering crowd clogged my ears.
I stepped out of my supersonic, turbo-jet: the Concord, (yep, I flew my Concord to the Yankee game), and walked into the stadium.
Next thing I know the game is over and I’m walking back to my ride.
There was a major blizzard that hit the parking lot and my Concord was under a mountain of snow and had slid into the cars I had parked next to because of strong winds.
I felt so bad that my plane crashed into the neighboring cars…
That was enough feeling bad so I went started my engine and flew for five seconds and landed on my sunny front lawn of some amazing, big mansion.
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