Our flight home from California was a bit harried and I tried to tell people how harried in my weekly column . Since we arrived home, I have found myself at times sitting on my deck watching the planes in the distance as they leave Indianapolis International headed for points all over the globe. I consider myself as a person who is afraid of flying but as I watch the planes, I seem to have forgotten the terrifying parts and now only remember the good stuff.
I have a feeling that if I’d climb on a plane today or tomorrow, I could cure or at least curtail somewhat, my fear of flying. Unfortunately, I have suffered some severe financial reverses this month so I probably couldn’t fly any further than maybe Bloomington, some fifty miles down the road. I could drive there faster than I could fly, if I were inclined to do either.
Of course, there’s that little matter of the plane sliding off the runway in Brazil.
