Airplanes Rock The Casbah

I was driving to work this morning, feeling pretty good about myself since I mashed out my 10 miles on the old exercise bike (which I will heretofore refer to as Trigger. Trigger and I covered our prescribed distance while my laptop played out the theme to Batman.
I gotta tell you, working out to action movie soundtracks is pretty freakin sweet.).
Anyway, back to my commute.
There I was on the Beachline expressway, just north of runway whatever here in sunny Orlando, when what to my wondering eyes should appear?

A streak of screaming blue and orange not two hundred feet overhead. The wheels extended like claws from a bird of prey, the wingtips upturned and the magnificent roar of the twin turbofan engines as she decended towards the runway. I could feel the van rock ever so slightly.
Awesome.
Completely awesome.
I feel like a kid every time I drive through there.
There is just something supremely cool about airplanes. I love 'em. I am fascinated by how they defy the laws of gravity. I know that it has a lot to do with something called the Venturi Principle and lift versus drag and thrust to weight ratios but I still think that there is some kind of cool magic those aluminum birds are using.
I find myself slowing down if I see them approaching so that I can get a good look at them. Flaps down and extended, nose up, the billows of white smoke as the landing gear make contact with the runway.
Freakin sweet.
I love to fly too by the way. Not that you really care. I'm just throwing that out there.
Well, thats pretty much it for today.
Tray up and return your seat to its full upright position.
Thank you for flying Freakin Sweet Airlines.