Stationair, finished on the Airbus, and left OZ after 89 for a 3 year stint in Europe (Belgium) came back to OZ as wife and kids very homesick, with a 747 endorsement, went gratefully to QF (as had four starving kids to feed) and earned myself two little stripes, which was a interesting study in human behaviour, I accepted the job humbly, in fact was amazed that I passed that silly test (in my day you could either fly the bloody thing or you couldn't) all this group hug, softy feely stuff was totally beyond me, on our flight decks, you either had a well aimed manual chucked at you, or as previously posted you could earn a smack in the head, and in later years were never left in any doubt where you came in the food chain. It was always interesting when you signed on to see the doubtful look from a Skipper (some who still had bum fluff on their faces) about suddenly having someone the same age as their father sitting behind them, most were polite, but unsure, always skirting around what happened in 89, (except one smart ar#e F/O who berated me at every chance from SYD to HNL about what idiots we all were, until the Skipper told him to shut the F$#k up) but I just sat there (sorry guys, but being a QF S/O has to be one of the most boring jobs on earth) and did what I was paid to do, until QF took pity on me and moved me onto the 767 until 60 then on to the 737 until 65, when much to my wife's horror I came home for good. I have now just finished my first helicopter flying lesson, and let me tell you its like trying to stuff a live squid into a string bag ( I was always a bit suss about aircraft that don't need to take a running jump before coming airborne) and I am beginning to think I am right, but I will stick at it (if there are no more posts from me, you know what happened) but hey, I flew a 9, I can do anything!