No Sunroofs on Planes

It is a little known fact that I’m a white-knuckle flyer.

That being said – I fly a lot.

I’m mostly fine. Nothing a few screwdrivers in the airport or a Xanax can’t fix.

Except I never actually have either of those things. More’s the pity for the people around me.

I’m in Portland right now.

The plan is for me to come home Monday evening, as there are patients and cats who expect my return by Tuesday.

We’ll see.

The trip up Friday evening was eventful solely for a full flight and high-number Southwest Airlines boarding pass that put Himself and I nearly last on the plane. There were only middle seats left. At which point I announced to the cabin, “I’m going to be digging my nails into someone and I’m sure everyone would be happier if it was my husband.”

A kind gentleman moved so I could gouge the arms of a man that the state of California considers it copascetic for me to.

The flight was fine, a little bumpy as flights into Portland always are, at which point I always regret being too cheap to buy a $9 cocktail.

Then Saturday morning I woke up to see that a Southwest flight from Phoenix to Sacramento had to make an emergency landing when a hole tore open in the roof at 36,000 feet.

Now, a few things about me and flying.

Despite the fact that the odds of a flight disaster are in the same probability class as winning the lottery, I never buy lottery tickets yet remain convinced that my plane is destined for a precipitous reunion with the ground.

I am also unshakable in my belief that the only thing holding the airplane aloft is my laser-focused concentration. I stare straight ahead and hiss hostilely at the flight attendant who distracts me by offering me a package of stale pretzel fragments because, my god woman, I have a job to do here! Don’t make me start flapping my arms!

So imagine my state of mind knowing that a plane that shares the same paint job as the one I am going to be flying home on had to make an emergency landing because of the unexpected addition of a window in the ceiling.

Now, I know we can’t agree on a whole lot as a population, but I think we can all safely reach consensus on planes having roofs.

Call me old fashioned.

Call me a coward.

Call me anything your bloody well want, but I draw the line at getting on a plane that bears any resemblance of any kind to Swiss cheese.

So this afternoon, think fond panic-free thoughts for me.

And think positive thoughts for Himself and the integrity of the skin on his forearms.



  1. I agree with you. Absolutely no sun roofs. I’m not afraid to fly, but I still think if people want something like that, leave me out! Keep up the concentration on the flight home. Hope you leve the hubby with some attached limbs and, “God’s speed”.

  2. Psssssttttt

    Hey, Himself.

    Yeah, over here. I’ve got some real nice body armor to sell you. Now we can’t let Lori know because she’ll probably worry that armor will wear down the plane. So you’ll have to reach out to me real quiet like.

    Godspeed this afternoon

  3. I never used to be nervous about flying, but since having kids, I get quite nervous. It doesn’t matter if they’re with me or at home when I fly. Take offs and landings are the worst for me!

  4. flying is terrifying.

    in august? I will be the white ghost that gets off the cross-country flight from MI to San Diego. You won’t be able to miss me.

  5. Sending you many, many panic free thoughts and also this one:

    Since a Southwest flight already had something happen to it, the odds are very, very, VERY good that nothing will happen to your flight.

  6. I hate to fly, too.

    “What was that?” (landing gear. we’re fine.)
    “What was that?!?” (a little turbulence. we’re fine.)
    “What the hell was THAT?!?” (landing gear. again.)
    “Why do they move the landing gear twice in one flight?”
    (so we don’t crash.)

    I hate to fly, too.

    I’ll think peaceful, Xanax-blurred thoughts for you. You just concentrate on keeping that plane up.

    NO pressure.

  7. I’m taking my unaccompanied minor to PDX today to spend spring break with Rat Bastard. Her flight leaves at 3:15 (Horizon). Any chance I’ll run into you? I could bring a leather strap for you to chew on.

  8. I have been quoted as saying, many a time, that if I drank, IF, I would knock back a couple, every.time.I.flew. Every time.

    Can’t I just get a valium for every flight?

    You’ll be safe. No worries. I will channel my inner-safe strength with you.

  9. I share the same terror you do – I hate flying. I think it stems from my control issues. It’s only okay for the plane to make weird noises and move around speratically if – and only if – I am flying the plane myself. Any other time, and I am smacking on some gum, praying, crying, and peeing my pant all at the same time.

  10. I’ve started to worry about how old the planes are getting. They were probably fine when built, but blowing a wing isn’t quite the same thing as blowing a tire. And the whole skylight thing, well that’s crazy.

  11. Huh. I’m feeling a little bad friendish that I had no idea you were in Portland. Or that Himself has huge gouges on his arm.

    Also, David flew Southwest yesterday.

    It’s all scary. You’re home now, right? RIGHT?!?!?

  12. What’s odd? Is that the part that freaks me out about flying? Is the fact that I’m stuck in a big germ tube for several hours. I get sick when I fly (from the germs, not air-sickness). Pretty much every time. I like driving.

    Also? Himself needs to get one of those gloves that people who handle birds of prey wear. That combined with the mani idea that Liz mentioned should take care of the whittling of the forearms.

  13. I was at the airport, waiting to board a SW flight when I heard about the sunroof. I’m not a great flyer and that didn’t help. I’m thinking good thoughts for you and please do the same for me, as I’m back in the air tomorrow. I keep telling myself that SW is the best place to be because they have done all of their inspections. Who knows about those other guys… :)

  14. Lying doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Well, Lying with a baby is horrendous but pre-baby I flew a lot and always welcomed the opportunity to relax, watch TV and flip through a magazine. That being said, if there was a HOLE IN THE ROOF??? I would flip the f**k OUT.

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