Flights of Fantasy

Wherein Our Heroine Digs Deep to Fly High.

I used to fly a lot - approximately once a week, twice if you count the outbound and returning legs of the journey. Aside from a lot of frequent flyer miles (artistically scattered among so many airlines as to make most of them virtually useless), an uncomfortable familiarity with airport concession food (those of you who complain about airline food have not flown in a long time - it doesn't exist any more), and a stunning ability to pack anything I might need for several days into a single wheelie carry-on, the experience left me virtually untouched either by special knowledge or insight.

You thought I was going to say something profound there, right? Trust me, commercial airline travel is a deeply shallow experience.

One thing I also never acquired was a fear of flying. I observed plenty of frightened passengers coping with their fear (white knuckles and prayer were commonly employed remedies), and I was startled plenty of times by a sudden drop or lurch, but I was never afraid in a sustained way. Little puddle-jumpers with their 22-year-old pilots didn't frighten me any more than massive passenger jets with an experienced, efficient crew. This may not argue for my intelligence, but at least I didn't spend hours in terror.

I may not have been afraid, but I was certainly uncomfortable plenty of times. At 5'7" I am not exactly a skyscraper, but I am surprised that my kneecaps still function, as they were jammed so often by passengers in front of me who reclined a degree or two. Seat cushions flattened by innumerable fluffy, junk-food fannies astonishingly didn't give me permanent spinal damage. Small children who sat behind me and rhythmically kicked my seat somehow survived the encounter. All of these tiny irritations made travel on commercial airlines uncomfortable enough for me to want to give up my job, but I had colleagues who were actively frightened by the experience, and they stayed.

What is it that causes a person to stay in something that frightens them? Are they looking for increased finger strength and spiritual uplift by constant, white-knuckled prayer? Or is the fear of leaving the job stronger than the fear of flying?

It seems that modern magazine articles (which you might think I have more time to read now, but that is one thing airplane travel is good for: consumption of disposable literature) advocate a policy of compromise in just about every troublesome situation. So, for those who want to keep those traveling jobs but hate the thought of being flung into the air in a giant metal tube, how about alternative transportation?

I'd offer to lend you my pony, but I still don't have one....

Posted: Tuesday - February 24, 2004 at 08:01 AM | |