Fright to Tampa
7/16/2007 9:48 PM
Dear readers this post started out as a few lines jotted onto a pad waiting to jet off to Florida. I like to do it on the plane it gives the impression to my fellow travelers that I’m noting important thoughts…in actuality I’m trying to recall the Dr. Demento top 10 of 1983. In between this I have certain streams of consciousness that I scribble out before I pull out the latest issue SkyMall…”Hmmmm a $250 belt rack? I’ve never thought about it. But it does seem like a good deal. Oh and its free ordering from the air phone!” Change and chaos would soon enough be the order of the day. Heres what I had written until that time would come.

-Espresso fueled leg from Milwaukee to Memphis. I love that Northwest World Club for the java alone.
-Memphis to Tampa. Things are looking up. Bumped to first class. Obviously the notepad and stylish pen have afforded me with a certain cache. I may need to get a black sports jacket.

“Oh Mr. Radworld we had NO idea it was YOU on our flight. (tearing the ticket up) No, no, no…this won’t do. We hear as many as 5 or 6 people read it. Take this man to 1A!”

Even though I’m in first class I hate seat changes. I wander about with my ticket in my hand showing it to anyone in a uniform. “Sir, I’m on the maintenance crew.” I lurk about like a kid sneaking into the matinee. But after a few moments I steel myself and my demeanor changes to suave jet traveler from coach cow. “Bloody Mary, please!”
-As we rise over Memphis. I catch another simple moment of bliss. The shadow of the jet falling away from the runway…higher. Across the rooftops and pools on the suburbs below. It’s just a moment but the moment is mine.

This is where the fun begins.
MOMENT OF BLISS MY ASS. Cruising at 33k out of Memphis. There is a loud thump and then it sounds as if there are a couple of tennis shoes in a dryer. Except the dryer is a jet engine and the shoes are 100 pounds each and they are spinning around the dryer at 200 mph. So its kind of THUDDDD! Thump, thump, thump, thump. I’m no pilot but I do know this can’t be good. Then suddenly the thumps stop. Then I get that feeling you get on a roller coaster as you crest the highest hill. When you’re at the highest point you can get at then you feel the tenuous strings slip and you start to fall but its cool because you’re on a roller coaster you’re strapped in by 8 different safety devices. When you are on a plane 33 thousand from the unforgiving earth its slightly less cool. We reached the highest point we would and although it wasn’t a “nose dive” it’s as close as I ever want to get to one in a multi-ton aircraft. I’d like to say…I’m a seasoned traveler. I don’t like to appear like I’m panicking…I don’t ever want to be “that guy”. You know “that guy”. You see the headlines. “Man runs up and down airlines aisle is restrained by 8 passengers.”, “Man locks himself in aircraft bathroom and cries like a wee baby.” Aside from that there’s a semi good looking woman and I really don’t want to start freaking out before she does. The “thump, thump, thump” stop to everyone’s relief but it’s a short lived relief. Because now we are succumbing to gravity and disproving a theory I’ve had for a long time. HOPE does not hold airplanes up. In fact I was just about to jettison mine when you could hear our engine….our lone, remaining engine powering up and our “brick” glide ending. Everyone nervously smiling in first class…some “heh, hehs…woo!” All I’m thinking is…”WE’RE ON ONE FREAKING ENGINE! I knew I should have taken a plane with 3!” The pilot now makes the announcement we all knew was coming. “You may have noticed a sound and a slight drop in altitude…” I always like how pilots try to lighten the situation by putting it on you. “You may have noticed…we here in the front are used to it. It may have seemed like a big deal to you but me? I just put down my martini and leveled this baby off by knocking the RPM’s up on number one. Tell you what we’re gonna do. I’m going to get a new cocktail and then we’re gonna turn this big ol’ bird back to Memphis and get us new one that’s gonna get you ALL the way to Tampa.” By the shear gratitude of being alive you don’t question a thing...”Yes, oh yes…thank you Clarence, I want to live…I want to live.”

So we go back to Memphis and I can tell we are moving a lot faster than we were leaving. It took us about 50 minutes before the “thump, thump” and we’re on final approach back in Memphis in 20. Now my math is bad but those numbers don’t make sense to me unless there is a serious fucking problem and they want us on the ground pronto! I’ve seen too many disaster movies and I can make unbelievable jumps of conclusion in a single supposition. In my mind I start playing “cockpit theater” and this is the scene I have playing out in my head.

“Listen…I think bought us sometime with the cattle in back but this ol’ bird has got about 25 minutes in her before the only thing we’ll be piloting is a 120 ton Jart.”

Plus, the flight attendants are wayyyy too quiet. Long thoughts of career decisions gone bad. Sure you get to travel the world but there’s also a chance you’ll cash it in like this, slinging peanuts and ginger ale at 30k. Very few of us want to die at work. Not just for the thought of being away from loved ones when the bell is wrong. Rather we want to do whatever we can to avoid the embarrassment of what we all actually “do” for a living. If there is a god and when my time comes, please don’t let it be while I am cross compiling a report. With that I’ll take a short break…We’ll rejoin my adventure in the skies after a word from our sponsors…