In three hours from now I will be on a plane, how ever many thousands of feet in the air heading for Dallas.
And I am terrified.
I have posted before about my fear of flying. It's actually a fear of heights. Or even more actually, a fear of falling. The other day I went over to the Baton Rouge capital, a 27 story-phallic-like-goverment-building, and I couldn't take the elevator to the top. My heart began to race. My stomach began to turn in on itself. I had to wait at the bottom.
And as far as I can remember, this has only been a recent phobia. I loved roller coasters growing up. I wanted to bungie jump and sky dive. But now there is no monetary amount that would kick up the desire to do it. There is nothing you could do to persuade me. I will be called derogatory names. My character will be defamed. I am ok with that. I will take my insults and wait at the bottom where the farthest distance I may fall is 6 feet.
The thing that I am so upset about is that I developed this phobia so young. I am going to have to travel throughout my life; I would love to get back to Europe sometime; and today is not the last time I am going to be in a plane. I wish it would have come later in life, you know, when you're worthless and don't do anything. But I have my whole life ahead of me. And the most convenient way to get around (for some reason) is thousands of feet in the air. Maybe, and I'll keep praying, they will invent some other form of transportation to where if something goes wrong, there isn't 3 thousand feet between you and the earth. Maybe.
One other thing. As I have been saying bye to people today, they usually say "Have a good flight" or something of that nature. They are commanding me to have a good flight. I always say "thanks" but I want to ask "How in the world am I supposed to insure that I have a good flight?" There is nothing I can do. I just sit there and hope that the pilot knows what in the world he's doing. My life is in his hands. The only way for me to insure having a good flight is not getting up and going into the cockpit. Maybe that is what people mean when they say that. "Hey Matt, don't get out of your seat and bug the pilot. Have a good flight. Not a bad one." Maybe they should say, "Hey Matt, I hope the pilot has a good flight." That would make more sense. He is the one behind all the little buttons and switches and levers. I'm in the back trying to read, trying not to look out the window, and going back and forth between my decision for Sprite or Coke (sometimes I read SkyMall catelog).
So into the wild blue yonder I go. If you read this before 6 o'clock today, pray for my sanity.
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3 comments:
Hey Matt,
I doubt you'll read this before I see you tomorrow, but don't go bug the pilot and make him crash. I hope he flies "real good". Err, flew.
I like Ginger Ale on planes. Except it's not really Ale. I also like peanuts, but they seem to have replaced peanuts with pretzels on my travels lately. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I flew on a plane about a year ago and a man on the flight choked to death on his peanut. Too bad he was the pilot. Fortunately, the co-pilot was not too far into his third bloody mary to get us down on the ground....oh well...
Have a good flight!
i usually think of that stephen king movie when i fly...what's the name of it? the langoliers or something like that. but i know what you mean. I feel the same way when people say, "have a good day." sometimes i want to reply, "no, thank you. I think i'll try to have a very bad one." but I don't, cause i know what they mean.
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