I Hate Flying

I hate flying.

Yes, I’ve said it before, and I’m saying it again after a recent flight to the South to visit old friends.

The visit was wonderful. The flights (fortunately direct both ways) were –- as usual –- awful.

Now, I know most people who fly these days do so as casually as getting on a bus. From my seat, I look around and everyone seems absolutely oblivious to the obvious danger we are in.

Most everyone –- except me –- immediately starts staring at their smartphones, laptops, or other digital devices. I’d guess it’s the same tactic they use when they’re not flying: whipping out the smartphone to stare at rather than absorbing the actual reality around them.

I admit I’m no techno geek (Did you know there is something called "Airplane Mode"? Neither did I!).

Heck, I’m not even a regular smartphone user and often leave it home when I go out.

For most people nowadays, that's some kind of blasphemy.

I mean: How can you even exist without a phone in your hand at all times?

But let’s get back to flying and the loathing I have for it.

Let’s start with the pilot: You know, the person up in the cockpit with total control of your future. The person you’ll never see or meet, won’t ever know his/her name, and won't know whether they have a drug or alcohol issue or left home that day after fighting with their spouse.

Do they have a health issue, mental or physical? Do they have a heart problem? Is the co-pilot –- again totally anonymous to the passengers –- able to take over should the pilot have a sudden stroke or heart attack?

I can only hope so.

Then we observe the flight crew. Can it be there are still some people on the planet who have never learned how to buckle a seatbelt? You wouldn't think so, but EVERY flight begins with the flight crew people demonstrating the oh-so-complex art of fastening and unfastening a seatbelt.

Give me a break.

Most of the passengers completely ignore the flight person’s safety presentation. I DO watch it –- not because I need to but because I feel sorry for the poor slob standing up there making a fool of him/herself.

Then there’s the seat. In rows that should have no more than two seats, there are three. Passengers have to sit far too close to each other and can barely move without elbowing the person next to them.

But the airlines must maximize their profits on every flight, filling every seat on every plane that takes off –- resulting in a jam-packed environment that can’t be enjoyable for anyone.

And don’t get me started on crying babies and selling alcoholic drinks to people who are pissed off because they have to spend multiple hours sitting in a too-small space.

Sorry, but children should not be allowed to fly until they are old enough to control their emotions, and alcohol should NEVER be served on these overcrowded people prisons.

Finally, there’s that moment after the plane lands, stops taxiing and arrives at the gate. That’s when just about everyone jumps up and tries to get to the overhead storage compartment to grab their carry-on and maybe get ahead of those sitting in front of them.

But that never works, and only creates a totally-unneeded atmosphere of additional tension.

From takeoff to landing, I am completely stressed out.

Fly the Friendly Skies – my butt!!