I’m thankful for airplanes. I really am. I also hate them with a passion. Well, I should say I hate flying. I’m thankful for airplanes because they get me places and to see people I would not be able to see other wise. And tomorrow one of them will take me to see my fiance.
But I hate flying. I hate the roller coaster feel of them. (I also hate roller coasters.) I dislike not being in control of the thing in which I am riding. I also have trouble sitting in the passenger seat of vehicles.
But I love riding on a motorcycle. If you get on a motorcycle you have to be prepared to die. When I get on an airplane I want to get somewhere. I want to see someone. I want to live. And the pilots wont let me fly myself places. For some reason.
The only flight I was not afraid to fly on, was the flight I accidentally met the co-pilot and pilot beforehand. Then the co-pilot decided to make fun of me over the speaker and told everyone I was on Who Wants to Be Millionaire, and lost, hence the commercial flight.
I guess what I’m saying is that I’m thankful for airplanes, but I distrust pilots unless they are making fun of me.