An Exerpt from My Thoughts: flying

No matter how much you think you know about flying, your first flight experience is like nothing you imagine. Why? Because, before you ever walk onto a plane your only perception of flying has most likely come from T.V. However, the airplane scenes on any television show or in any movie couldn’t be further from the truth. For instance, have you noticed that every time there is a scene the actors are in the front of the plane? This means infinite leg room. You sit down in a real plane and you realize this concept of leg room probably wasn’t on the agenda at the “How to Build an Airplane” meeting. “Um sir, what about leg room?” asked the intern.“Leg room? HA! Go get some more coffee, Kyle, and let the people getting paid decide what the public needs.” (turning to high executive peers) “Leg room, what kind of crazy idea is that? I like him though, makes one hell of a mocha latte.” Even in the front seats of an airplane you have no leg room. Why? Because they put a wall in front of you. Is there need for this wall? No, there isn’t. It just stands there mocking you. Another thing about these scenes is that the actors can actually stand in the plane. Since when can you stand in a plane, other than in that little strip of carpet they call an aisle? You know this aisle, the thing that causes you to get hit in the groin every time someone, heaven forbid, decides to stretch as you walk by them. You also are able to hear the actors very clearly in any airplane scene. I guess they just forget to add that pleasant sounding hum the twin double barrel monster turbo engines make. Though that hum is annoying, I DO prefer to hear it THROUGHOUT my flight.

I have motion sickness. Yes, that means I vomit when an unnatural object is ushering me across this great earth at a rapid speed. With that in mind, let me now tell you of my first flight experience. My immediate family, all six of us, was flying from St. Louis, Missouri to Akron, Ohio along with my aunt and cousin to attend a glorious event, a family reunion. The flight took place about a year after 9/11. This means, the security implications were in affect to prevent another horrendous tragedy.
My brother is a photographer and he was assigned to take the pictures at the reunion. You are probably thinking no big deal, right? Wrong. He is the only person I know that can actually mock NASA telescopes. “They think that thing can see Saturn up close. This baby can fucking see through Pluto.” My brother was well armed with camera equipment. He had a backpack full of gadgets and enough film to capture the natural decaying processes of styrofoam in real time. And just in case my six-foot tall, blue eyed, pale brother was indeed planning on smuggling a bomb onto the plane, the security guards had to open and check every knickknack and film canister in the backpack. This took about twenty minutes, which is entirely too long. They should have realized, according to the notice sign illustrating things one is not allowed to carry on the plane that bombs clearly come in boxes marked ACME. After the search, we were allowed to start boarding the jet, if it can even be called a jet.
Due to the three hour long flight between St Louis and Akron, we took Andre-the-Little Airplane-that-Might. This plan was so small we had to board the plane by leaving the terminal, walking across the tarmac, and climbing up a portable stair case that can reach speeds of 60 mph. Not a good sign for a first time flier who is a little afraid to ride the Looped-Dee-Loop at my parish picnic never the less an airplane. “Can this thing get off the ground by itself, or does it need to be wound up?” I thought to myself. I had enough anxiety for a therapist to prescribe elephant tranquilizers, but I was relived when I looked at my ticket, row 1 seat 1. “At least I will be able to stretch my legs. And if I do have trouble, I can receive help from a stewardess, I mean flight attendant- I mean in-flight-engineer.” As we boarded, my family went right, and I had to go left. My seat, normally saved for uniformed employees, stood alone, perpendicular to and right behind the cockpit- I mean flight deck- I mean in-flight-control-room-area. I sat down mange to buckle my seat belt, amazingly without instructions on how to do so. After I was strapped in tightly, I looked fearfully at the in-flight-engineer- I mean traveling waitress that doesn’t get tipped, and she just simply looked back and smiled. I immediately resented her. I started to think that smile will be gone about eight seconds after take-off when my breakfast, Fruitloops and a Cina-bun, is on her shoes. Fortunately (for her), my mother informed the poor gypsy waitress of my situation, and remarkably I was able to join the rest of the passengers in the normal sitting position facing the in-flight-control-area.
An hour later we were in the route over Illinois, and I had the pleasure of revisiting the Fruitloops and Cina-bun. Immediately, my family members came over barking orders of how I could cure my airsickness. “Don’t look out the window that makes you dizzy”Well actually I find looking out the window quite enjoyable. It’s pretty looking out the window of an airplane in the sky.“Lay back and maybe you can get some sleep”Right! Move my seat back from a 90 degree angle to the comfortable sleeping position of an 87 degree angle. Then, I can fall asleep and certainly will not wake up from the tranquil sounds of jet engines. ***side note*** Never see “the Sounds of a Jet Engine” next to “the Sounds of the Rain Forest” or “the Sounds of the Babbling Brook” in the soothing sounds CD section ***another one*** where is this babbling brook? I would like to live next to it.*** “You are just afraid of the height, stop looking out the window.”No I’m not afraid of the height. I’m afraid of falling from the height of 30,000 feet in a fiberglass tube traveling over three hundred miles an hour.Though my first flight was not the most pleasurable experience I’ve had, I did survive. I think airline companies purposely make air travel suck just so your destination is that much better. This way you will want to continually go places. I was not exactly thrilled about going to the family reunion, but when we landed I was so happy I wanted to stay with my distant cousins forever. In fact, my joy was so great I could have been hit in the crotch with a crowbar and not cared. Shortly after we arrived in Akron my Dad had discovered that he had lost his driver’s license, his only formal form of identification. It was somewhere from the plane to the car rental agency. This was going to be a problem on the flight home……..or was it? My dad put in a call at the airport as a heads up to look for it or at least for someone to check the lost-and-found. We spent the whole week in Ohio, and I do have to say it was more enjoyable than expected. However, we never heard anything about the driver’s license. When the time came to board the airplane, and we all took out identification, except my Dad. The security guard asked to see his diver’s license and my dad explained the situation. She replied “I will let you board if you show me a library card and a credit card.” Yes, my father boarded an airplane after 9-11 security measures with a LIBRARY CARD and a CREDIT CARD. Moral of the story, if you are a terrorist that doesn’t want the hassle waiting in line at the DMV, go to your local library sign your name on a card, receive a credit card in the mail, and you are set to hijack. HELPFUL FLYING TIP: Always fly while heavily intoxicated, it makes the flight so much better.