This isn't a literary reference to Erica Jong and sexual liberation. I mean it in the literal, I-don't-want-to-get-on-that-plane way.
So I shall try to tattoo these statistics into my heart:
• The death risk related to flying in a commercial plane is 1 in 10 million, while the odds of dying in a car crash are 1 in 5,000.
• In 2000, more people died in bicycle related accidents than in plane crashes.
• I'm flying American, one of the 10 safest airlines (as defined by number of reported "incidents").
I have the beginnings of a cold so I'm already feeling a little drowsy. Consequently I don't want to take the Xanax I will be carrying in my purse. But I will have it in my purse. And should my heart start beating so hard you can see it through my blouse (as if I was a character in a Warner Bros. cartoon), I will not hesitate to pop one.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
You're going on a trip? Today? Have a great flight! (I don't like to fly either...)
ReplyDeleteDon't say the word magazines. Arrrgghhh. I just went through my stacks the other night and threw out about 20 of them. still many many more to go. Which ones do you read?