One of the secrets of life

Richard Glover writes today about the European travel disruptions:

One woman from Birmingham told the Herald midweek that she was staggered when informed she might have to wait a fortnight before she could travel home: “I passed out, just fainted, from the sheer shock,” she said.

Really? The news was so unexpected she was rendered unconscious? Is Sydney Airport now like the scene of a Jim Jones massacre — scores of people flat on their back mumbling, “the horror, the horror”?

Personally, I feel like fainting when told that flying is possible: me and 400 people inserted into a metal tube and then hurled into the sky in the expectation we will be served very small packets of peanuts and then land, some hours later, in a different country.

I like that last paragraph in particular.   I think I may have said this before here, but like Richard, I have never gotten over the technological wonder that is flying.   Yet I don’t think that I would like a job that involved flying so often that it did become routine and I no longer reflected on how improbable it is that I am having a drink while hurtling higher than Everest through thin, instantly asphyxiating air of Antarctic temperature from which I am separated by bits of not-so-thick perspex and aluminium skin, all while watching some crappy movie.   (Well, mostly crappy.  The only exception I’ve experienced to the normal rule that an inflight movie can never be absorbing  was Shakespeare in Love.  Yes, I felt a bit teary by the end, but then maybe that was partly the effects of jet lag too.  This was especially remarkable given that I was viewing it on one of those old blurry projector systems.)

I imagine that too much flying is probably like living beside a beautiful Australian beach, which I did for a couple of years some time ago.  At one level you can still appreciate the beauty, but there’s no doubt it does become less of a wonder over time.   I certainly remember that the longer I lived there, the inclination to go for a swim got more and more put off  until the most perfect of weather conditions.   No, it’s better to have the enjoyment of going there with just enough frequency that it never completely loses novelty.

So this is one of Opinion Dominion’s secrets of life:  know enough to be impressed by flight, but if you start doing it so much that you no longer get at least a bit excited by the prospect, start doing it less.