Many of you know I recently went on a trip--a friendaversary-- to Maui. What better way to pass the time until the Marine returns than to fly to a tropical island with my BFF?
The problem with this?
I hate flying.
Yes, I've done more than my fair share of it in the last decade, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it.
In fact, while everyone else is stretched out with their eyes closed, taking a respite from their worries, I'm staring out the window expecting at any moment for some demonic creature to appear on the wing and joyfully tear it apart while I'm hopelessly and helplessly stuck inside the flying death trap.
Thank you Twilight Zone for that wonderful thought.
Never mind that airplanes are one of the safest ways to travel.
When my mind isn't conjuring up demonic critters it runs through all the more realistic and likely things that could go wrong.
Birds could fly into the engines causing them to stall or catch on fire.
The propellers can fly off and tear the airplane in half. (Okay, maybe not that likely, but there is a chance).
The landing gear could malfunction.
We could crash due to bad weather (Since I was little I always reflect back on the deaths of Patsy Cline, Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper, and Ritchie Valens).
Honestly, I'm surprised I didn't drive myself crazy or require large quantities of alcohol.
Especially when my first flight was delayed because of mechanical problems.
Glad I'm done with flying for a while. I think my next trip will be done via car, train, or ship.
What are your feelings or experiences with flying?
R.S.
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