Flying into D.C. the other afternoon, we went through some serious wind conditions. I’m not just talking Winnie The Pooh blustery here. I mean, I’ve been through typhoons on a Navy ship and I don’t recall that being much more exciting. It was SO cool!
That plane was rockin’ and rollin, hopping up and down, jinking this way and that. My chin and belly made a passing acquaintance as first I was compressed like a Jack in the Box on the updrafts, then stretched to about twice my usual length as the plane dropped out from under me. I don’t know why I enjoyed it so much, since I’m not a fan of roller coasters, but it was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.
It’s possible I was actually giving voice to my delight, as evidenced by the fact that several of my seat mates looked at me like I was a crazy person. I don’t know why they bothered glowering at me. Their disapproval might more profitably have been directed at the woman a couple rows ahead of me who failed to keep her lunch in the bucket. (Which, by the bye, was actually kind of amazing; I’ve never seen anyone actually throw UP before.)
Some folks just don’t know how to enjoy the simple pleasures.
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