Revolutions don’t scare me.  Airplanes do.

I can date my fear of flying to a rough landing in 1983.  Ever since then I’ve avoided airplanes whenever possible.  On those rare occasions when it is not possible, I get by with self-medication. A drink in the airport bar and two more on the plane is sufficient to get me from one coast to the other.

But our journey this time involves 5 separate flights over 27 hours. Not to mention that the director of the school will be picking us up at the airport, so I have to be mindful of my condition on arrival.  We don’t want to make a poor first impression.

I hear this is a good book.

My good friend and fellow book-clubber Jenni used to suffer the same phobia until she cured herself with Qantas airlines’ Fearless Flier’s Handbook.  As you might expect, the idea of a book solution appealed to me.  So I checked a copy out of the library.  The thing is, I was afraid to open it.  I kept it for two months before returning it unread.  Jenni and I are in agreement that library fines support a worthy cause.

Finally I decided to see the doctor.  She laughed and made some jokes about flying.  I criticized her bedside manner.  She gave me a prescription for 30 pills.  Apparently she expects me to start flying a lot.  I asked why so many, and she said she wanted to make sure I could get back home.

Between the drugs and the travel angel pin my buddies gave me yesterday for a going away present, I think I’ve got it covered.

To infinity and beyond! Thanks, Jan and Cindy.