In the early 60’s my business mentor, a neat gentleman, was usually stoned by noon. Not pot – heaven forbid, but good old American whiskey. I remember it well – we made a flight to Hemet California to inspect a motor home factory. It was his plane, a beautiful new Mooney aircraft.
After a pristine landing, the co-investors in the rear seats saluted! Beautiful landing ****. Name omitted.
At any rate, as we strolled toward the terminal, my mentor said,”Yep, three shots of good American whiskey works wonders.
New bumper sticker, “Fly Drunk.”