24,000 feet over the Atlantic, east of Long Island, aboard G-Force One, Boeing 727-200 (likely the only 727 spiffed up with winglets). 30 souls on board.
“First parabola. Mars gravity, one-third of Earth’s gravity. Try some push-ups.”
Oh, piffle. This is nothing
“Second parabola. Lunar gravity, one-sixth of Earth’s gravity. Try gentle bounces on your knees.”
“First zero-g parabola. When I say ‘coming down,” get your feet on the floor and lie down.”
Jesus Chr—What is THIS? Grab the rope! Hold on!
Dive for floor. Don’t move head. Stare at spot on ceiling. Breathe. Breathe.
EEK! Drifting up. Don’t flail! Be graceful. Float across fuselage. Look out, midair, midair! “Sorry!”
WHAM! Gravity returns in spades. Bodies keel over like bowling pins.
Wheeeee! Look, it’s raining M&Ms. An orb of water wobbles by. Someone gobbles it up. Laughter. Squeals. Shrieks.
Uh-oh. Pinned against ceiling. Not good. Grab the rope. GRAB THE ROPE! WHOMP!
Why am I not swanning around, serene and composed and gymnastic, like the women in the promo video? Try a spin. Why is the airplane flying sideways? Are we doing a barrel roll? We all look like a school of uncoordinated fish.
Am I scared? Is this fun?
Oh! Oh! I get it! I GET IT! Easy…easy. Sweep arms back. Swan dive. Yes! Bank left. Don’t hit the floor! WHEEEEEE!
Hold on to the rope. Somersault. Cartwheel. Back flip. WOO-HOO!
Ooh. Sick sacks are out. Some people are not at all happy. Don’t stare.
“Last zero-G. Make it last!”
Nooooo! Not when I’m just getting the hang of it! Wow, this is a LONG one. Spin. Tumble. Cartwheel.
“Coming down. Okay, everybody sit up against the wall.”
Just about everyone is as limp as a deflated balloon.
Man, I could use a cigarette.
NOTE: We did 15 parabolas; not all are accounted for here.
To book your Zero-G flight: www.gozeroG.com