Fly and Take Me Places

A tribute to the good people in the aviation business.

Oh, and especially dedicated to TK, my beloved brother who has finally gotten his wings and proved himself Ray Bans-worthy... Congrats!

You know, when you say how a man's medicine could be another man's poison, it's the same for airplanes.

For those who travel distances, the plane is probably the best invention ever known to mankind. I'm one of them who think quite so, despite the fact that I absolutely hate every ear-popping minute strapped up there with nothing but great masses of mist. For the frequent flyer that I have become -- previously for studies, then for work, and now simply for pleasure -- air travel has become a normality. It is impossible to imagine a world without airplanes anymore.

But for the rest of the world's population who never had the need, the urge, the guts or the means to stash money on a few hours' worth of fast moving transport in a two feet wide space, the airplane is then probably one big piece of metallic crap that uses up way too much of the world's precious resources.

Well, I can totally see their point. In fact, at this very moment I'm jetting away for the nth time on an airplane, I feel so overly indulgent that I am a tad apologetic toward the feet-firmly-planted-on-ground folks. By the same token, I wonder if the thrust-worthy guys over at NASA feel the same toward us lowly, gravitated earthlings too when they blast off to outer space.

Alright, back to my point. The point is, if you have not gotten it already (and I do not blame you if you haven't, considering that you're listening to a person who, technically speaking, has her head in the clouds at this moment), is that I love my airplanes. Airplanes big or small, airplanes long or short haul.

The funny thing is, I had never put much thought about an airplane in my entire life until just minutes ago when my flight was preparing for take off, and I had pressed my face against the tiny aircraft window to see four other airplanes of various sizes waiting in line behind ours. There they are, with their respective carrier colors and logos proudly emblazoned on their bodies, these powerful creatures carry a somewhat elegant, yet secretly haughty demeanor, not unlike their prettily groomed crew.

As I have mentioned, I do not enjoy being couped in thousands of feet above sea level. The level of discomfort is on par with being in a dentist's chair. However, quite ironically, I take great pleasure in the fact that I've flown with them. Them... the planes... The Big Guys, as I call'em.

In case you are wondering what on earth the cabin pressure had done to make me sprout so much senseless gibberish, let me draw a parallel -- it's about the camaraderie between me and the airplanes. It's like fighting a battle alongside the general whom you admire. Yes, I WORSHIP airplanes.

I worship their ability to fly and take people places. Through thunderstorms, blizzards, roller coaster turbulence, they almost never fail in their job. I worship them for the fact that about a million people a day entrust their precious lives to them. They carry on them, academic minds of students, profitable prospects of businessmen, and even hopes of miracles of patients with various health conditions, jetting them off to the land where their dreams may come true. Or, perhaps true for most other frequent fliers, simply ferrying weary travelers home, to where their loved ones are patiently waiting. Such is the lofty job description of these mean machines.

I continue to count my blessings each time I get to fly and witness that great responsibility upheld and delivered upon every arrival to all who silently pray in their seats, a smooth, safe touchdown.

Thank you, and it has always been a pleasure flying with you, Mr. Aeroplane.