Fear of Flying

I am not afraid of the flying really. I am afraid of airports. They are too busy and too crowded and people are moving at unnaturally high speeds to get ….. essentially nowhere because though the airport itself seems to be in perpetual “hurry-up” mode, the airlines are not caught up in the same mad-dash whirl. Indeed they are on some time table known only to them. It’s like that episode of the original Star Trek where Kirk drinks the bad water and is sped up. He is able to move at such frightening speeds that the Enterprise crew appears to him to be standing still, and they can only hear the buzz as he passes by them. Passengers zip here and there dragging luggage behind them like small dogs, cutting people off as though they were in rush hour traffic on the freeway.

Between the check-in with its weary-eyed and palpably impatient staff and the TSA agents who treat you like special education students, the entire process seems geared to raising a person’s blood pressure as much as it possibly can before parking you at a gate to wait in the most uncomfortable chairs, if you are lucky enough to find one, for however long they please. Nothing at all about the flying experience is designed to put you at ease. The color of the terror threat rainbow is on a continual audible loop as are the reminders to attach your bags to your person to prevent them from sitting still too long and attracting suspicion (though as an aside, I have seen bags sitting unattended for lengthy periods of time every time I have been to an airport in the last three months and no one seemed in the least alarmed – except for the time in Idaho Falls and Rob and I were too busy ….uh…greeting each other to notice that my bag had been off-loaded.  The TSA guy had taken the bag off the carousel already.  “Anyone own this purple bag?”  Personally, I think the TSA guy was just jealous.)

Embarking is a tad stressful but mainly because it brings out the territorial natures in many people as they jockey for storage, leg room and armrests. Even though I know checking luggage is a gamble only slightly more reliable than a power ball ticket, it is worth it to avoid the seething hostility of the business class traveler. If you can’t be a bit more sanguine perhaps you need to look into a career change.

As for the flight itself, take-off is almost physically unpleasant but once up in air and level, it’s not so bad. My daughter has the same tendency to startle that I do, so I am a bit worried she will not take to flying well but she is very excited to see Rob, her big sisters and our new home. Hopefully the excitement will prevail.

I just want to be there and in Rob’s arms. I have mentioned before that as our physical separations get shorter my ability to endure them shortens as well. When you are ready to be with someone for what  “better be a damn long time” as Rob puts it, then you are ready right now.

Jusqu’a ce soir mon amour, jusqu’a ce soir.  Je t’aime.

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