I was in Miami for 46 minutes last week---a painfully short period of time. After deicing for twenty-five minutes at LaGuardia, and then bucking one hundred knot headwinds for three and a half hours there was absolutely zero chance I was letting the first officer do the walk around---even if it was only 65 degrees outside. (A cold front had just pushed through.) I would have preferred eighty degrees, but at this point in the season, I'll take what I can get, which, by the way, was sixty degrees warmer than it was in New York. "Junior; I'll get the walk around, you program the FMS."
During the walk around a couple of things caught my eye. First; the folks on the ramp were all bundled up. Heavy winter jackets seem out of place in Miami. Second; and not nearly as funny, the #4 main landing gear tire looked low. I stared at both; pondering our fate. What if there are no MD-90 tires in south Florida. . . And we get to stay here in Miami. . . And all the layover hotels are full. . . And they send us out to that cool old hotel on the beach. . . The bubble burst when the mechanic said: "Just a loose valve stem, Captain. We'll have it pumped back up in no time."
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