I just returned from a 24 hour excursion. I had to fly. I hate to fly. It's rarely a good thing. A word to the wise from those who know me: don't fly with me.
On the outgoing trip, I had to sit over the wing. Anyone for whom surviving trubulence is a death defying act knows that sitting over the wing is one of the worst places to be on a plane in terms of a smooth ride. This flight was no exception. It was bumpy the whole way.
What was more interesting were the women sitting in the exit row immediately in front of me. The talked the entire time. More accurately, they talked non-stop. I know this for a fact because once we boarded the plane, we sat on the tarmack for about an hour. One of the women talked so much that the person sitting next to me-- who spoke German as her primary language-- found the English to say, "I wonder if she has an 'off' button." Funny as hell.
Back to the story. As we were preparing for take off the attendant came back and did his dutiful diligence in making certain they were prepared to assume the responsibility of sitting in an exit row. Did I mention the talker was decked out in crosses? She had a big one around her neck. She wore two more as earrings. Another was a ring on her finger. Nothing like wearing an instrument of captial punishment as a fashion statement. Anyway, when the steward asked if they would execute the emergency duties, the talker said, "Oh, it doesn't matter to us. We're ready to meet Jesus any time, the sooner the better."
There's more to the story, but here's the Reader's Digest version: they were asked to move. Their desire to meet Jesus was greater than their desire to value the other lives on the plane at least as much as they valued their own. Isn't it ironic that those who claim to love Jesus best are also the ones who don't get his foundational teachings?
Right on! It didn't make the plane ride any easier, and I didn't volunteer to take the exit row seats. Given my luck, the Jesus freak lady might have booby-trapped the escape latch to get all of to Jesus a little bit faster. As a priest, I could just see that headline too clearly.
pax [+]
Never, never, never, never. I have NO qualms about flying. I have flown a kabillion times. I have flown with 35 teenagers to Europe. I have had to get said teenagers on a flight home on standby because our travel company sucked. And still, my worst travel day is better than your best, hurricane-boy. Go on, tell 'em about the natural disasters that follow you around. I will never, never, never get on a plane with you. And I'm sure as hell not going through airport security with you. Pharoah.
Posted by: Marie | June 27, 2005 at 07:50 PM