Flying Without Mechanical Aids (Part Two)

When 'Flying Without Mechanical Aids' only one of the two wing men may give the order to take off, otherwise there would be total confusion and risk of flight collapse.
“All systems ready!” Mayo shouted from his end of the line, there because he was an experienced aviator.
“All systems ready!” I responded from mine.
Mayo and I had practically emptied Giorgio’s Vineria and the ‘Nolano’ - Mario Tozzi’s pleasant little wine bar two doors down from Giorgio’s, a quieter, more relaxed place, better suited to the intellectual drinker - and formed up a group, possibly a world record, of seventy-four aviators, plus Mayo and I; a mixture of Romans, Campo residents and tourists. It was an amazing sight. A party atmosphere that involved the entire Campo de’ Fiori.
Excitement rippled through the aviators and across the piazza.
“Ready?” I shouted.
“Ready!” seventy-four laughing voices responded in unison, a medley of languages.
“Now!”
With Mayo and I flapping our hands - it is vital the arms remain rigid during this - seventy-six aviators simultaneously bent their knees, hopped off the curb into the air, and hovered for the briefest of moments (as in Martin Allard’s photo, top right) before making a gentle and perfect touchdown on the cobblestones a second later, again bending their knees to cushion the landing.
This was greeted with thunderous applause and unbridled cheering from our audience, which matched the aviators in numbers.
I wouldn’t put any money on it, but I might have heard a jeer or two.
(Losers)
However, they were easily drowned out.
(It was a no contest)
The aviators - remember that most had never even seen each other before - laughed, shook hands, chatted about the experience and wandered off to buy each other drinks.
A mixed group of Argentines and Swedes - again, total strangers before flying - came over and thanked us for inviting them to join in, then went off to do some sightseeing together.
An elderly gentleman from Ireland got quite emotional about it.  "You two are right; it takes so little..."  In fact, he was so overcome, he couldn't say another word.  He smiled, shook our hands vigorously and nodded at the wonder of it all.  We watched him wander off, and laughed when he did a fast soft-shoe shuffle on his way around the corner.

“Feeling better, Mayo?”
“Much better, thank you, dude. Feel like I could now go out and save the world!”
“Yes. Flying will do that to you.”
We were silent for a moment, basking as we always did in post-flight bliss, before strolling back to Giorgio's for a cold beer.

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