I am a nervous flyer, but do it anyway
Forget fears about turbulence, fellow rogue passengers with box cutters, ethanol in the engine or ever shrinking carry on and leg room…is the pilot freaking out or dead?
Automobiles are statistically far more dangerous of course, and while I’ve never experienced anything too scary in the air, it isn’t hard to get me white knuckled or queesy with common bumps and dips. Somehow in a car wreck I feel like I might have a chance - that is, manipulate my body in some way to minimize injury. It’s an illusion of course, but to be in a cylinder falling out of the sky, ever faster, subjected to your fellow sardines shrieks and panic…I don’t think I could handle that. But I think my “fear of flying” is actually rooted in a fear of sharks. Somehow you realize you’ve survived the impact, maybe some broken limbs, clinging to some flotilla in the frigid ocean and fuel burn off dancing on savage waves, only to realize the uber-efficient predators will find you before the rescue party does-
I’ll still take taunting the Christmas Day Tiger, thank you…
