March 12: White knuckles
Whenever I get on an airplane, a friend in Calgary urges me to "fly safe."
It makes me smile.
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I don't know why the phrase "white knuckles" makes me think of airplanes. Perhaps it's the phrase "white knuckle flyer," which describes a person who is so terrified of flying that they grip the armrests so hard that they turn white. These poor souls need to understand that air travel is quite safe - at least as far as statistics are concerned. You're more likely to get killed on a train, in a car, on a motorcycle, or crossing the street. A more accurate phrase might be "white knuckle pedestrian."
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I was never a white knuckle flyer. I always felt safe on airplanes. Not sure why. Boats make me nervous (and I've never even seen Titanic.) I've been on a few - the most notable being the ferry that shuttled me out to Vancouver Island more than a decade ago. Once, when I was doing a magic show on the Akwesasne reserve, I had to endure a 30-minute motorboat ride after my client picked me up at the reserve's boat dock. As he sped out at about 300 mph, his wife treated me to a never-ending monologue about all the evil things white people were doing to them. I was happy one of the things she didn't say was "and they do crappy magic shows too."
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Here are things that would give me white knuckles:
- Talking about my feelings
- Driving in a blizzard
- Liberals getting elected
- Arthritis
- Worrying that my armpits smell really bad on a hot summer day
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Once I was 10 or so, I was on an airplane by myself and the person sitting next to me was a tall redhead with lots of freckles. She ate cheese. The cheese was marbled and it was wrapped in plastic. She told me she was a flight attendant. I asked her if she was afraid to fly. "I always am," she said. "Just before takeoff."
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Here are more people I remember meeting on airplanes:
- A neurology professor who was grading papers. He told me that his students didn't know how to write. I told him that basic English composition classes should be a mandate of any university and college program. He agreed. His breath smelled like mayonnaise.
- This really really drunk guy sitting right behind me. He kept singing really loud and annoying everyone. I finally had enough and I yelled at him to shut up. He did.
- A teenaged girl wearing a Cure T-shirt. She was crying. I asked why. She said that she missed her boyfriend. The flight lasted four hours. All she did the whole time was talk about her boyfriend. i found out that her boyfriend was a wrestler and that he liked country music and that he drove a Mustang and that he worked at Red Lobster and that his farts smelled like cotton candy. She showed me a picture of her boyfriend. He was scowling.
- A judge from BC. She was flying east to go to her daughter's wedding.
- Eleanor Lambert Cook.
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Here is the story of Eleanor Lambert Cook:
I was flying to Calgary to say goodbye to my best friend, who was dying of cancer. On the plane I met Eleanor, who was flying out west to attend a breast cancer fundraiser.
Eleanor and I talked for a while and the spirit moved me. I managed to convince the pilot to let me get on the PA system and I told everyone onboard about my best friend and about Eleanor's fundraiser and I asked if we could take up a collection. And a lot of the people on that flight did. They handed over all sorts of bills and we raised $407 for breast cancer research. It wound up making Eleanor's day.
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And here is why I am not a white knuckle flyer:
When I get on a plane, I don't think "Gee, I hope the plane doesn't crash."
Instead, I think: "Gee I hope I meet someone like Eleanor on the plane."
It makes me smile.
-
I don't know why the phrase "white knuckles" makes me think of airplanes. Perhaps it's the phrase "white knuckle flyer," which describes a person who is so terrified of flying that they grip the armrests so hard that they turn white. These poor souls need to understand that air travel is quite safe - at least as far as statistics are concerned. You're more likely to get killed on a train, in a car, on a motorcycle, or crossing the street. A more accurate phrase might be "white knuckle pedestrian."
-
I was never a white knuckle flyer. I always felt safe on airplanes. Not sure why. Boats make me nervous (and I've never even seen Titanic.) I've been on a few - the most notable being the ferry that shuttled me out to Vancouver Island more than a decade ago. Once, when I was doing a magic show on the Akwesasne reserve, I had to endure a 30-minute motorboat ride after my client picked me up at the reserve's boat dock. As he sped out at about 300 mph, his wife treated me to a never-ending monologue about all the evil things white people were doing to them. I was happy one of the things she didn't say was "and they do crappy magic shows too."
-
Here are things that would give me white knuckles:
- Talking about my feelings
- Driving in a blizzard
- Liberals getting elected
- Arthritis
- Worrying that my armpits smell really bad on a hot summer day
-
Once I was 10 or so, I was on an airplane by myself and the person sitting next to me was a tall redhead with lots of freckles. She ate cheese. The cheese was marbled and it was wrapped in plastic. She told me she was a flight attendant. I asked her if she was afraid to fly. "I always am," she said. "Just before takeoff."
-
Here are more people I remember meeting on airplanes:
- A neurology professor who was grading papers. He told me that his students didn't know how to write. I told him that basic English composition classes should be a mandate of any university and college program. He agreed. His breath smelled like mayonnaise.
- This really really drunk guy sitting right behind me. He kept singing really loud and annoying everyone. I finally had enough and I yelled at him to shut up. He did.
- A teenaged girl wearing a Cure T-shirt. She was crying. I asked why. She said that she missed her boyfriend. The flight lasted four hours. All she did the whole time was talk about her boyfriend. i found out that her boyfriend was a wrestler and that he liked country music and that he drove a Mustang and that he worked at Red Lobster and that his farts smelled like cotton candy. She showed me a picture of her boyfriend. He was scowling.
- A judge from BC. She was flying east to go to her daughter's wedding.
- Eleanor Lambert Cook.
-
Here is the story of Eleanor Lambert Cook:
I was flying to Calgary to say goodbye to my best friend, who was dying of cancer. On the plane I met Eleanor, who was flying out west to attend a breast cancer fundraiser.
Eleanor and I talked for a while and the spirit moved me. I managed to convince the pilot to let me get on the PA system and I told everyone onboard about my best friend and about Eleanor's fundraiser and I asked if we could take up a collection. And a lot of the people on that flight did. They handed over all sorts of bills and we raised $407 for breast cancer research. It wound up making Eleanor's day.
-
And here is why I am not a white knuckle flyer:
When I get on a plane, I don't think "Gee, I hope the plane doesn't crash."
Instead, I think: "Gee I hope I meet someone like Eleanor on the plane."
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