The flight home from Atlanta night-before-last got pretty choppy, and we had one of those pithy pilots who just says, “everyone get to your seats” instead of something comforting like, “Well, folks, we’ll be going through a little band of turbulence as we descend into Boston, so I’d like you to just buckle in and … blah blah blah.”
OK, I’m not always a really calm flyer anyway (though I no longer scream out loud, causing people in the front of the plane to turn around and say, “Whatever you do, please just don’t throw up”). However, I do occassionally ask the person next to me to hold my hand.
Last night was one of those flights, probably more to do with my caffeine intake than the turbulence, though both were on the way-higher-than-average level.
I’d scoped out the situation in advance:
On my right, across the aisle, was a guy who I knew had once been a basketball player,and whose wife – further to my right – was also a basketball player and a jewelry designer. They both looked pretty calm, but they were across the aisle and my general rule is to only request across-the-aisle hand-holding if nobody is sitting next to me (or if, as has happened, the person next to me has already indicated their own anxiety level is way beyond mine – usually via a mime-activity of some sort).
To my left was a young man in a uniform, who was really happy because he was headed home on leave. He hadn’t actually been in battle conditions, but he’d been in training and he looked pretty sturdy.
When the turbulence hit, about an hour out of Boston, I weathered it OK for awhile, but it moved into hand-holding territory.
So … hmmm … a guy who protects people for a living, in a comforting uniform with insignias on it is to my left, and an ex-basketball player and his wife are way across the aisle on my right. It should be a pretty simple choice.
BUT … I have reason to believe (bring in the ominous low musical underscoring) … that the enlisted man has … (big timpani roll) … a cold.
So … I reach across the aisle, startling the ex-basketball player, who, it turns out is not the hand-holding kind, but who assures me there’s a lot of turbulence (which is oddly reassuring).
And we make it safely to the ground.
So someone explain this to me, someone who studies the human psyche: I’m so anxious about this flight that I’ll reach across the aisle to invade a stranger’s personal space — but I will not reach to the guy next to me – a guy whose profession is protecting people – because I think has a cold.
Am I really more afraid of a cold than a plane crash? If I don’t really think the plane is going to crash, why am I responding with such physical anxiety?
Why do I feel afraid of the turbulence but act afraid of the cold?
And while we’re at it, how come the taxi credit-card screens in Boston only allow you the option to give 20%, 25% or 30% tip? Do they know that the quotient of our math skills, multiplied by our laziness … no, never mind, I can’t even figure out how to end that sentence. I’ll just go for the answer about fear.
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December 9, 2011 at 4:09 pm
alex feldman
Most of us think of our decisions as sensible and rational. but as you’ve pointed out from your own experience, a closer looks shows otherwise. nice writing !
December 13, 2011 at 9:07 pm
richard Hanna
You were more afraid of the cold indicates to me that deep down you didn’t believe the plane was gonna “go down” which is why you would be afraid of the turbulence i.e “fear of death”. Once I was on a Ryan air flight from London to Dublin, out one side of the plane beautiful sunshine out the other the darkest purplish storm clouds which set upon the Air bus with a vengeance. It was like a Knots-berry farm, there were all these made Irish people lifting their hands up and cackling like they were having a grand time.I was petrified into silence personaly. Then the plane did something weird, it started twist almost ricochet from side to side in an alarming way. All of a sudden the laughter stopped dead! I thought this was hysterically funny and as the pilot is fighting to gain control of the plane I was the only one laughing, I thought “well this shut you all up”.
December 13, 2011 at 10:27 pm
HipHarp
Richard … I think I was on that flight!
Actually, it WAS an Irish flight where I spontaneously screamed. I finally got the guy two seats behind me across the aisle to hold my hand since he was closest, then let go when I realized he was so scared we was squeezing the circulation out of my hand (gee, maybe I should have kept hold for HIM…)
When I yelled out “Isn’t anybody else scared??” (it was a small plane) a lady in front said, “We’re ALL scared, we’re just not yellin’ about it.”
But you’re right — I knew the ‘odds’ were high against the Atlanta plane going down. And guess what? I got a cold anyway. (Oy, I hope I didn’t give it to the basketball player!)