I flew the Chippie at Edinburgh UAS in the 1960's. It was a pile of poo. Nothing to do with me but the fool of a Polack designer who went on to disgrace himself with significant parts of the Concorde. He knew next to sod all. I wonder if after all these years it would turn out to be a delight after all? Is there, do you think, an equivalent of a tooth fairy that swops young men for old but exacts revenge by applying retroactive fond memories to absolute crates? As a boy in the early fifties the Vampire exercised a fascination but when I got my hands on a Venom it had become sedate. The JP was for wusses, the Gnat had a delightful bite and everything went downhill from there. But let me assure you the Chippie was a bag of bolts. Unless I was a very bad pupil you understand.
Oh to be young again. Anyone got Dorian Gray's phone number?