Want to ride in my flying car?
No, you don't. Because any flying car I can afford will be less like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and more like, well, something that sounds awfully close to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
Last month, the Federal Aviation Administration approved the Transition Roadable Aircraft, a plane that can land at an airport, fold its wings, taxi onto the highway and cruise right into the nearest drive-thru, according to The Christian Science Monitor, the world's leading source for flying car news. (But that's only because Flying Car Illustrated ceased publication in March.)
Like me, you probably have a lot of questions about the Transition Roadable Aircraft, like:
Q. Who makes this new-fangled flying car contraption I've been hearing so much about in sparsely read, slightly humorous newspaper columns?
A. Terrafugia, based in Woburn, Mass.
Q. Terra-whatta?
A. Terrafugia, which is Latin for "escape from land" and certainly more confidence-inspiring than "plunge to earth."
Q. So who's involved in this company that I'm having a difficult time pronouncing?
A. Terrafugia is, according to terrafugia.com, "comprised of a team of award-winning engineers who have been advancing the state of personal aircraft since 2006. Founded by five pilots who are graduates of MIT and supported by a world-class network of advisors and private investors, Terrafugia's mission is the innovative expansion of personal mobility."
Q. Can you give me a few more details to flesh out this column to its usual length?
A. Sure. Terrafugia says "the Transition requires a Sport Pilot certificate to fly. It is a two-seat aircraft designed to take off and land at local airports and drive on any road. Transforming from plane to car takes the pilot less than 30 seconds. The Transition will cruise up to 450 miles at over 115 mph, will drive at highway speeds on the road, and fits in a standard household garage."
Q. I'm convinced. I'll take one in black with a No. 3 painted on the door. How much does it cost?
Q. Without the No. 3?
Yes, it's that pricey, and that's the reason I will likely never own a genuine Transition Roadable Aircraft. If I withdrew all the money from my credit union account, found $190,000 between the couch cushions and hammered open my daughter's piggy bank, I still could not buy a Transition Roadable Aircraft. The closest I could come would be a used knockoff from Honest Dan's Auto Emporium. ("GOOD CREDIT? BAD CREDIT? NO CREDIT? WE DON'T GIVE A RAT'S PATOOTIE!")
"Honest Dan, I'm looking for a flying car in my price range."
"Step over here, hoss, and take a look at this."
"Wow! Is that a Transition Roadable Aircraft?"
"No, it's a Performance Optimal Soarer."
"A POS?"
"Is it ever. Go ahead, kick the tires, shake the wings. This baby will fly circles around the Transition. Here, take the keys, son, crank 'er up and listen to 'er purr."
"Sounds like it's missing. You hear that?"
"Nothing a tune-up won't cure. We'll throw that in for free before you fly it off the lot."
"The 'check propeller' light is on."
"It's probably just a fuse. Me, I'd put a piece of duct tape over it and forget about it. This baby is in near-perfect condition. One owner. Little old lady who only flew it to church on Sundays."
"I don't know, Honest Dan."
"Chief, I can take one look and see that you, without a doubt, belong in a POS."
Wild blue yonder, here I come.
Scott Hollifield is editor and general manage of The McDowell News in Marion, N.C. and a columnist for the Media General News Service. Contact him at P.O. Box 610, Marion, N.C. 28752 or e-mail rhollifield@mcdowellnews.com.
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