>Turbulence, Shmurbulence
>When you think about it, it’s a little crazy how afraid we as a culture are to fly, particularly when we fly so much.
Oh, I know it differs from person to person. Some of my friends won’t set foot on a plane. Others do so with the aid of Valium. Others simply grip their armrests in terror at every bump and jostle. And still others really aren’t afraid at all.
But I’ve been flying a lot lately, and I’ve noticed that the entire ritual of flying revolves around fear. There are the safety instructions at the beginning of the flight, forcing us to imagine ourselves fumbling to put on our oxygen masks, or searching through a smoky cabin for the emergency exit, or floating aimlessly on our seat cushion in shark-infested waters.
It’s not exactly the most comforting start to the experience.
Then there are the dire warnings we receive from flight attendants if we happen to use the lavatory before the seatbelt signs are turned off. And the turbulence updates from the captain, always warning us when there are going to be “a few bumps” up ahead. And the shrill comments from nervous passengers during those bumps. “Well, I’ve never felt anything like this before!” and “How long has this pilot been flying, anyway?”
Consequently, my frame of mind varies when flying. If I’m having a calm, peaceful day, then I tend to do quite well while up in the air. Turbulence, shmurbulence.
If I’m feeling frazzled, then every little bump we encounter as we rocket through the clouds makes my stomach lurch and my face turn pale.
I’ve been doing quite a lot of business flying over the last few months, and have used that time to get as much writing done as possible. It helps to have something to take my mind off the friendly skies.
But on a recent flight home from San Francisco, I’d had quite a bit of downtime and consequently had met all of my writing deadlines. It was late in the day. My brain hurt. I needed a rest.
The flight had only 50 people aboard and I had an entire aisle to myself. I had brought along the mini-DVD player my husband gave me for Mother’s Day and a new DVD I had been sent to review, and I decided to kick back, relax, and enjoy the movie.
With that in mind, I even did the unthinkable and ordered a glass of wine. It was a 4-hour flight, after all; I might as well enjoy it. And I did. In fact, an hour after I had that cup of wine, I did something I’ve never done before on a plane. I ordered another.
Because my flight was getting in at 9! It was Friday night! My husband was picking me up! Plenty of others around me were ordering drinks, too! It was time to relax! I came up with a million reasons for that second cup. But the best reason was yet to come.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the pilot’s voice crackled over the plane’s PA system. “We’re going to be flying through some weather. I’m going to turn on the fasten seatbelt sign and ask the flight attendants to be seated.”
Ordinarily, that announcement would signal a need for me to tightly grip my armrests and start praying. But! Two glasses of wine! I merely sighed and kept watching my movie.
Over the next hour (yes! Hour!), we flew through the worst turbulence I’ve ever experienced. We were flying through a storm, and in the rough clouds the entire time. My DVD player bounced up and down on the seatback tray as I attempted to continue watching my movie.
“Hmm,” I thought to myself. “This is rough. I would ordinarily be really scared right now.”
But I wasn’t scared. I was… fine. I had cheated the system!
I’m not advocating drinking to solve your flying fears. Really, I’m not. Generally, drinking is completely inappropriate when I’m flying. Either my kids are with me or I’m preparing to navigate transportation and hotel check-in in a strange city, or I have to drive myself home once the flight has ended.
But on those rare future occasions when I’ve got four hours to kill on a Friday night flight, with my husband waiting on the other end to chauffer me home?
I now know exactly what I’m going to do.
This post originally appeared on Parents.com.
