Flying

It's a funny thing flying. I'm believing that a metal contraption the size of a building and the weight of a herd of elephants will get me someplace at a speed and altitude that would wreck my fragile existence if I attempted to fly without the plane.

You sit in a seat built for someone in junior high or late elementary school. I'm 6'4". Typically next to or sandwiched in between people that you may not ever associate with outside of this experience. Not because of prejudice or malice, but because research says you can't handle more than eight close relationships at one time.

In Fight Club, Jack tells Tyler Durden that people he flies with are considered single serving friends. You share an experience one time and never meet them again. Jack makes this assumption because everything on a plane is single serving.

I've flown a lot and hate it. I think I'd rather experience sitting in a class on advanced quantum physics. I hate science just as much as flying, but I could at least stretch out in a classroom.

Right now a young man is seated behind me talking about Christianity to a Jewish man. This plane is full of students on their way back from a missions trip to Kenya. I haven't asked. I just have the intuition of a CIA agent and deductive ability of Sherlock Holmes. Well, maybe the intuition of someone who has read books on CIA agents and the deductive ability of Dr. Watson.

On my previous flight out to North Carolina I sat next to Mr. Celebrity Builder. I have no clue who he is. He sat there with sunglasses on the whole time and held his hard hat. That isn't a metaphor; he literally held his hard hat. He was about as rude as it gets and unpleasant in all interactions.

I have plenty of flying stories to entertain a dinner table for a little while, but that's not the point. What will you do with your moments in life?

Life is a series of journeys. Every time you think you're going to grab your luggage from the carousel you run to your next connecting flight on the journey of life.

I don't consider Mr. Celebrity Builder in the wrong. He seemed to possibly have legitimate issues with sitting next to someone. He kept rubbing his face and fidgeting. Go ahead and call me Watson. Since I have a slight case of OCD and germaphobe conditions I didn't think poorly of him. I attempted to see it from his eyes. I leaned  away from him to make him comfortable. Some would say that is insensitive, but he did seem to settle down. I could tell he liked being touch as much as I do.

Make the most of these single serving friends that you meet in passing. It could be a plane, train, grocery store, or hospital. You, not outside forces, make the best and worst of every moment. What impact will you leave on the salt or sugar next to you?

On to my next flight...

Yours truly,

Dr. Sherlock Watson