Sunday, November 19, 2006
This prompt hasn’t quite caught my fancy. I’m not sure why. Maybe I’m too content with airplanes and being a passenger. I do wish planes were speedier. I’d have loved to fly the Concord before it was grounded but, of course, who had the money? I feel a certain sense of loss that it is no longer an option even in my dreams.
My father almost managed to be an astronaut, back when astronauts actually went to the moon. I’m not sure why he didn’t make it, but if he had, there might have been no me. I don’t particularly want to fly on the space shuttle because I am convinced I would be incredibly sick. I’m fine with flying on a commercial jet but have trouble with sea-sickness and other forms of motion-sickness.
Flying is mostly about the places I want to go. It is not the lack of wings that hold me back but responsibility.
Thinking about flying made a sad poem come to me:
If I had wings
Perhaps I’m better off grounded except in my fantasies.
This book is sitting next to me right now. The Green Guides are my favorite guides to Europe. (Especially when they are in French).