Flying, Crying and Dying

(Article created 17/10/2008 10:21)

OK, I've been busy deluding myself that maybe (just maybe) this flying thing is do-able. My last flight was Aeroflot in 1990 and after a stint of working for Virgin Atlantic in Crawley, I just didn't dig flying anymore. Nothing happened, no bad experience or anything, I just one day woke up and thought, Never Again, this is just plain dangerous.

Every time I've built up enough courage to book a flight something happens. The last time was the day concord crashed on the day I was about to book a regular flight to Southampton. For the budapest flight, I just wussed it and didn't turn up, lucky too as they had to divert to Edinburgh to wait for the weather to clear in Newcastle and apparently it was hair-raising final landing at Newcastle (so glad I bottled it).

I realized you can't dodge it forever so we booked the flights with Easyjet for a week in Spain, the day after two planes crashed near where I used to live, the day after that two bombs exploded in Malaga (near where we're going) and the day after that the Spanair crashed on take off - Methinks Someone/thing could be sending me a message... How crazy does that sound "Sending me a message", I don't believe in a supreme being, a God or any such thing. Yet I choose the completely irrational and paradoxical position of now believing something I don't actually believe in and, moreover, assume he/she/it/them or they are actually sending me a message."

Statistically the safest form of Transport
Everyone hears this, but I'm just convinced people use the expression to stop them thinking about the inalienable facts that they are traveling over 500 miles per hour and more than 6 miles above the earth, in a tin-can built to a safety factor of 1.4, with thousands of moving and interconnected parts built and maintained by the lowest bidder. Though putting safety in context, aviation is getting safer - since the 50's the number of flights has increased over three times and the number of fatalities have been reduced more than five times.

They just don't belong up there...
If we were meant to fly we'd have wings. I know and understand the aerodynamics and lift/drag of an aerofoil, but look at them they are just too dammed big and heavy.

You've got to go sometime/When your numbers up it's up...
I'd rather it was not at 500 miles per hour, 6 miles above the earth etc. etc.

Just get drunk/drugs from the docs
Initially sounds like a good idea, however, if an accident does happen I'd rather have my wits about me to take full advantage of any survival or escape opportunities that present themselves. Being mortal drunk or sky high on valium, I guess, will just make it more likely that in an accident whatever transpires will be seen as fate and will be accepted without challenge or struggle. Nah, if it comes to it I'm going out with a fight...

Rhymes with Dying
Good f***ing point... But, it's all getting too silly now...

Tags: Details | Crazy | Flying | WTF