I honestly have no idea why I'm more afraid of being killed flying then driving. We all know the odds. You are less likely to die in a plain crash then drowning in a bucket. Yet the site of an air plain just automatically triggers the thought, "hey, there goes a flying tomb". I'm not kidding. Somehow in the last 7 or so years, my mind inexplicably and without provocation decided that airplane = death.
It started with me hearing somewhere that the take off and the landing were the most dangerous part of the flight and culminated with me trembling for all 45 minutes of a flight from Vegas to Burbank as I felt the plain descending violently......for all 45 minutes......even while we were ascending. It was awful. Literally, 45 non-stop minutes of the little voice inside my head thinking "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I don't know how I got to be so nuts.
Tomorrow I fly again. Six hours. I was planning on driving the 3000 miles to new york largely to avoid flying until more then one person pointed out that the drive was far more dangerous. I actually considered doing multiple lay-overs and in a sense hop scotching my way across America, but I couldn't decide what was more horrible, 3 take offs that stretched the trip into a 15 hour ordeal or one 6-hour long miserable stretch of non-stop terror.
The new plan: ship the car and fly direct while completely stoned on herbal supplements. That's right, too chicken to use illegal drugs, too lazy to get a prescription for real drugs so I'll be popping Valerian root like there's no tomorrow.
The one time I've attempted taking Valerian Root to calm myself on a flight, I accidentally overdosed. That's right, I overdosed on herbal supplements and it was fantastic! The high itself wasn't actually enjoyable. No. It was basically the out of it feeling you get when you take strong cold medication that leaves you very sleepy and too fuzzy headed to understand anything. The enjoyable part in that experience was in thinking, "right now, I don't care if we do crash" followed by mirth and giggling (hopefully to myself and not out loud). I plan to recreate the experience with alcohol as my backup plan.
My step dad wanted to know how I would find the emergency exit if I'm drunk.
Damn him!
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Valarium root huh? I might try that...it sounds like crazy amounts of fun.
ReplyDeleteyour blog makes me giggle incecently...yeah i spelled that wrong. what?!
Um, there is a reason that airports have LOTS and LOTS of bars. No need for fancy herbs, just a few Long Islands or several shots, if you prefer and presto, all the worrying goes away and it is sleepy time. ahhh.
ReplyDeleteshould I be scared of buckets now?
ReplyDeleteWell, you've gotta die of something, why not in a small aluminum tube? Better than standing around in a desert holding an empty wooden bowl :)
ReplyDeletebtw, it's extremely surreal that I stumbled onto your blog while googling around. I think we used to live on the same street in Riverside. wtf!
Thanks Aby. That makes my day :). lol. What?
ReplyDeleteI've inspired substance experimentation in a whole new direction. I feel my job here is done.
Kevin - so sure enough, I forgot the velarean and the bar was on the other side of the security check point. Grrrrr!!! Next time, I'm heading straight for the long islands. I can crawl across the security check point.
gmarp? Have you been wrecklessly handling buckets? Haven't you read the warnings clearly printed on each and every bucket?! You might as well go chewing on power lines in the rain!
Mike? Where from? Where you the trumpet guy from Riverside Plaza? Sorry, bad with names. Now that you put it in that light, yes, dieing because the little misile they launched me in missed its target sounds wonderful. lol.