I generally spend entire flights either staring at my watch to see how many seconds are left or locking myself in the bathroom and pretending I’m anywhere else.
But on my round-trip to Florida the other week, I was as composed as a runway model!
On the way there, a lady seated next to me started up a conversation, and by time we wound down, I noticed that more than half the flight was over. (And I was fine for the rest of it. I didn’t go to the bathroom once!)
The way back was a little bumpy, and the descent was so shaky that everyone applauded when we were on the ground. (I always found that weird. So you’re applauding the pilots for doing their job? And if you crashed, would you boo?)
Anyway, I didn’t applaud at all. Not that I wasn’t thrilled to be home again–it’s just that I hadn’t been worried in the least. I just sat there, zen-like, letting everyone else pull their hair plugs out for a change.
I don’t know what’s happened, but I seem to finally realize that flying is safe (especially with all these intimate pat-downs) and worrying is a waste.
Whatever it is, I pray it stays this way! I want to travel the world again!
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on January 5, 2011