I hate flying. I haven’t always. Back in the day, if someone said “Let’s jump on a plane!” I’d say, “How high?”…and not even care.
Now I care. Hurling through the sky in a hunk of metal propelled by combustible jet fuel does not thrill me. I’m sure post 9/11 I’m not alone in this. It doesn’t help matters that my son said, “I sure hope your plane doesn’t crash like in LOST.” Crap. I’d be interested to know how many other people have developed an adult onset fear of flying? I’m pretty sure that the responsibilities of parenthood are the culprit.
Anyway, I’m going to suck it up tomorrow and take these white knuckles on a plane to Vegas. I can hardly wait to spend some quality time with my best friend. Tiff and I met in third grade and have been sisters from other misters ever since. It’s hard living so far apart.
I’m also excited to see my old travel buddies. In the ’90s Tiff, Lisa S., Michela, Paige and I backpacked through India and South East Asia together. There were LOTS of plane rides involved, and my knuckles remained flesh toned every time. Ahhh, to be young and fearless.
So, I’m putting my fears of being separated from Avery and the plane bursting into flames aside. Five hours of terror is surely worth this much needed vacation. But it’s more than that. It’s also a nostalgic reunion. It’s been twenty years since our epic “Oh What A Long Strange Trip It’s Been” tour of Asia. I’m looking forward to reminiscing about those adventures and also about having some new ones this weekend.
That was then: