Well, I just checked on my plane tickets to San Francisco. I’m flying out there at the end of the month to visit some friends. I have to admit I’ve never been a huge fan of flying, and well, this trip is making me a hint nervous. Perhaps, it’s because when I log onto my airline’s web site, my plane is listed there as a “jet” . Not a nice, big, safe Boeing 747, but a small, puny, wind-up jet. Or perhaps, the fact that my plane’s reliability is listed as “N/A” is what’s making me nervous. What does that mean? Does it mean that the plane crashes so frequently that they don’t even try assessing the plane’s overall reliability with regards to arriving at its ultimate destination.

I’m definitely getting bad vibes about this flight…

I just hope I don’t have to walk out on to the runway to board my plane. It always makes me nervous when the plane’s too small to hook up to the gate. One might think, the bigger it is, the harder it falls; but frankly, I want as much metal as possible shielding me from the ground- especially if we do end up hitting it at 700 mph.

Anyway, that said, I think the airline should supply us with parachutes. Cause frankly, if they’re making us fly in this little propellar plane, I think they should at least give us a fighting chance at survival. Ironically, instead, they give us lifejackets and an inflatable boat. What’s that about? We’re not on a boat. Our biggest threat isn’t water. We’re on a plane. Our biggest threat is falling 20,000 feet to the ground. I mean, it’s kind of the equivalent of taking birth control pills prior to going bungee jumping…

Rumor has it that the airlines don’t bother giving us parachutes because it only takes about 10 seconds for the plane to crash, and they don’t think we’ll have time to put them on. Well, hell, that’s not fair; cause let me tell you, if that plane’s heading towards that ground at that speed, I’m going to have that parachute on in .5 seconds- thus leaving me 9.5 seconds to push all those little old ladies out of the way and get to the door. I think I may go out and buy myself a parachute. I wonder if they’ll let me wear it on to the plane?

I might also go out and buy that book about those people who crash on the mountain and end up eating each other. I want to make sure I know all the little secrets to staying uneatten. Obviously, the fat kid’s gonna go first- I think tawny and muscular may be the way to go. By the time my trip rolls around, I’m going to be the human equivalent of a beef jerky…

I guess the sad thing about this whole process is that even if things do go well (ie: the plane does not crash into a mountain and the passengers do not end up eating one another), I’m still going to have a miserable flight, because I am, no doubt, going to end up with half of the passenger next to me in my lap, a baby screaming in my right ear, and a slab of sirloin steak which might potentially take a bite out of me. I definitely think it’s going to be a long trip…