Monday 20 December 2010

Flying



It appears that I am not a very good flyer.

Upon entering a plane, I always have to "pat" or touch the outside, while I pass on telepathic "Come on plane. We can do it!" type thoughts to the aircraft.
Every plane I have ever flown on, I have touched. I'm not a planeophile or anything. It's nothing kinky, I just feel the need to reassure both the plane and myself. Kinda like a horse. I have a fear of horses. Let's blog about that another day.

During take off or landing, I MUST distract myself from what is happening, using all and any means at my disposal. Let's be clear about this, one half of my brain is using all its mental energy to keep the plane in the air (unless we're landing), another half of my brain is trying to re-open long previously cut off lines of communication with god, buddha, satan, anyone who will take my call. And the final half of my brain is busy with the task of keeping me distracted.

I panic-draw. Or panic-read. It doesn't matter which. During my last flight, I had almost filled a notebook with sketches and ramblings before the plane had even left the ground. I had to slow down. A nice Indian gentlemen next to me even made his wife look across at what I was doing. He asked me whether I was writing my autobiography.
"Yes", was my reply. "I'm very famous."

Different people cope with flying in different ways. On my very first flight, the guy sat next to me spent the entire take-off, flight, landing, under a blanket. For a while I started to think he was a pile of luggage that the staff had covered up. He didn't even use the bathroom.

Second flight, a woman prayed, loud and aloud during take-off and landing. That did NOT endear her to the other passengers.

Another thing that I catch myself doing (and this is not entirely rational or scientific here) is, when I board the plane, I look around at the faces of the other passengers and try to picture in my mind whether they are the types of faces that would be printed in the paper, underneath the banner "Mid-Air Tragedy!"
I do. I can't help it. Do we look like victims? Are these the faces of survivors or not? Are we crashers? - is basically what I'm asking myself. Do we look like flyers or crashers?

I didn't say it was logical.

I think I feel better for getting that off my chest.
The amount of mental energy I must put out during flights could probably be used to power the plane.

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