I understand the theory of flight. I know the math, I know the mechanics. I’ve been on more flights then I can even remember. Flying has become so routine to me that it’s almost mundane at times. Get to the airport early, muddle through security, get a drink, board, fly, land, etc.
There was a day where flying was an event. Suits and dresses and it took two days to fly across the country. Now it takes five hours and people complain that they didn’t get an entire can of soda and an extra packet of peanuts on their super saver, discount, fee implementing low cost airline.
My personal preference is a window seat. Primarily because it is nigh impossible for me to stay awake on an airplane and it’s a lot more comfortable to lean up against the side than it is to lean up against the stranger complaining about peanuts in 14C. A little turbulence wakes me up and in the middle of my mundane, every day flight and I look out the window.
There I am, 10,000 meters in the air in a 100,000 kilogram tin can.
Flying.
Infinitely Expanding 