Fly High or Die Tryin' By Becky Lucas

Yesterday I looked into the sky and what I saw sent waves of nostalgia coursing through me. There, in the sky was the message 'marry me' penned by a skywriter. Skywriting to me has always seemed like a mysterious trade, I don't know anyone who has ever done it nor have I met anyone with any connection to a skywriter. I don't even know how you get into the business. Were they told by their school guidance counsellor that they had a high aptitude for loop the loops? It always seemed strange to me that you would spend years gaining the experience it takes to be a pilot only to become the equivalent of a guy who stands on the corner shaking posters that advertise cheap pizza. For some reason, skywriters never seemed to advance from skywriting to operating a boeing 747. In fact, it always seemed to me that they were one pay check off joining the circus, they are after all the carnies of the sky.

The sad truth of the skywriter though, is that you don't see them around anymore. It appears that skywriters have gone the route of all other irrelevant trades. I suspect that somewhere there is a place with limited wi-fi access where all the shoemakers, blacksmiths and milk men roam. Placing bets on the next fallen trade, whilst diligently thumbing through hard copy yellow pages and sending postcards, eyeing off the postman as if to say 'you're next'.


Stand up comic from Brisbane, Australia. Some people describe Becky as an Aussie battler, others just say 'oh yeah, she's a person'.

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