For one thing traveling is perilous. Fiery death is only one small misstep away. It may not even be your misstep. It might be an overly tired construction worker changing lanes suddenly. And trust me, everybody thinks their reflexes are sufficiently keen to close to within millimeters of the car in front of them while driving 80 miles an hour. Incidental Death By Exaggerated Ego, that is what the official cause of death would be in that case. And I don't want it happening to me.
Suppose, for a second, you are driving down the freeway, traffic is light, and things are going swimmingly. You are lulled into a sense of security by the peaceful conditions. "That song on the radio stinks," you decide, and you take your eyes off the road long enough to change the station.
What you didn't realize, while trying to find something decent to listen to, was that soaring in the clouds above you is an aging plane, maintained by a staff of overworked, under trained, apathetic jet mechanics. And about the time you find "Truckin" by the Grateful Dead, or Hank Williams crooning "I'm so lonesome I could cry" a jet engine, burning like something from the bottomless pit of eternal suffering lands on your car. Stupid Top 40 radio stations.
"Oh, don't worry Tim," people tell me, almost constantly, "flying is safer than laying in bed." What? Now I have started to sleep under the bed. Which has the added benefit of keeping the the place free of monsters. It is a little cramped, and uncomfortable, and almost impossible to read. But, safety is paramount.
So, I am going to risk it, and take off for the sweet glorious mountains. And while I am traveling I intend to compile a video diary that you will have the opportunity to suffer through, if I live that long.
Have a nice weekend, smile at your co-workers, and don't cut in line in front of other people, that is so rude.
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