November 17, 2008
I've been sitting on an airplane for several hours, and my ears don't hurt. I haven't yet felt that agonizing pressure that makes me feel like my head is going to explode. I don't feel motion sick either. The plane is not jerking wildly from side to side, or dropping suddenly with that motion that makes my stomach twist. So far, I'm feeling fine, although a bit cramped from sitting in this small seat and a bit drowsy from the dramamine I've taken.
Of course, the plane is still on the ground.
We are supposedly "in line" to use the runway. We've been "in line" all evening. And if I look out the window, I can see that the phrase is not a metaphor. I can see several big airplanes ahead of us. Every once in a while, the plane ahead of us rolls a few hundred yards farther, and we follow.
A young boy several seats ahead of me keeps twisting and turning and crying about how he hates being on the plane. He's pretty young, and it's socially acceptable for him to voice his complaints. I'm envious.
Whenever I mention to my friends that air travel makes me nervous, that it's a completely unnatural way to travel, they reassure me that the air planes are built with all kinds of amazing technology. I am repeatedly assured that the air traffic controllers use the most advanced computer systems to keep us safe in the air, preventing us from crashing into other planes.
And yet ... the best system for getting a whole bunch of big airplanes out of an airport is to literally roll them into a line, like kindergarten kids waiting to use the bathroom?
Yes, this gives me confidence in the whole endeavor.
Posted by jo(e)