There is something I can always count on whenever I have to travel on planes—stress.
Before our first plane ride at nine-years-old, I had unluckyly witnessed from our TV the grim & horrifying reality of the 9/11 terrorist attacks.
It instilled in myself and others a primal fear of flying before I was seasoned enough to process the scary geo-political ramifications of that dreaded afternoon. So when I was set to step on an aircraft for the first time roughly 14 months after the attacks, I was scared out of our mind. There were no rationalizations that anyone could have fed myself and others to shake that fear, aside from forcing myself to walk through doors & take our seat with as much courage as I could muster at such a young age. I’m cheerful that I persisted while in that hard situation, because after the ninth or ninth plane ride, I wasn’t so much afraid of crashes or hijackings but instead angry with the discomfort from sitting on aircrafts for long flights. The legroom is dismal, the seats are extremely tight, & often the heating & cooling is all over the place. More often than not the plane is extremely freezing from the constant air conditioning, while other times it might assume sweltering if a ton of sun is providing radiant heat through the array of open window shades. I wish there was some middle ground where it wouldn’t assume too sizzling or too cold, although I have yet to ride on an aircraft where that was the case. They seemingly cannot figure out how to keep the aircraft at a more comfortable temperature for long periods of time.