We will now take off (we think)

Every year the organization where I work holds two conferences for educators, one in a fun place like Orlando, Florida, and the other in a place like [name withheld to avoid possible recriminations by offended citizens, but think Indiana]. I have just returned from the June conference, which did NOT take place in a locale fitting the first description, but which nevertheless was enjoyable and enlightening, particularly because it stayed light outside until much later than where I live. This allowed us staff members, every evening, to exclaim to each other, "Can you believe how LATE it stays light out??"


This year we kicked off the conference even before we left for [think Indiana]. The kickoff consisted of a series of mechanical malfunctions on the various planes on which we were heading to the conference. On my plane, we passengers sat at the gate for quite some time with no explanation for why we were not moving. I passed the time with productive thoughts such as these:


10 minutes past takeoff time: We're late. Why are we late?


20 minutes past takeoff time: We're really late. Maybe something's wrong.


30 minutes past takeoff time: This is way too late. The pilot is afraid to tell us something's wrong. What's wrong? SOMETHING'S WRONG!


The wing flaps, of which I had an excellent view, began opening, closing, opening, not closing, not opening, opening a little bit, etc. This confirmed my suspicion that something was very wrong, and that if we took off, we would crash, and I would never make it to [think Indiana], and my garden flowers would all die without me, and...


Finally the pilot announced that the plane had a fluid leak, but that we should be on our way momentarily. This seemed rather hasty. What sort of fluid leak could be fixed in moments? Surely it would be much better to get off the plane, get on another one that did not have a fluid leak and would take us promptly to [think Indiana], and take their time repairing the first plane. That way, if the leak was not properly fixed, then someone ELSE could be the guinea pig.


But soon we were preparing to take off, and the flight proceeded smoothly, at least until the pilot announced that we were likely to experience some turbulence upon the descent to our destination, due to "a bit of wind."


Now, U.S. pilots are all schooled in British terms when they have to make potentially frightening predictions regarding weather, plane malfunctions, disruptive passengers, a dearth of bottled water, etc. This is because if emergency information was delivered with typical American forthrightness -- "We are probably going to drop 7000 feet due to this turbulence and will likely not come out of this alive" -- all manner of panic would ensue, including but not limited to a hijacking of the beverage cart. Pilots therefore learn instead to use classic British understatements, such as "Well, we might hit a spot of wind up here. Nothing to worry about, of course. Ed, where did you say that eject button was?"


So when our plane hit that "bit of wind" I began to pray earnestly that it would not last long and that we would land quickly. I then realized that the quickest way down would be to nosedive, and hastily amended my request to "quickly land in the normal way." Just in case there was any confusion about the preferred outcome.


We did land in the normal manner, rather quickly, something for which the person next to me should be grateful. If we had not done so, his arm and probably the rest of his person would have been covered in bruises for several days thereafter.


Other colleagues had a "bit more" trouble on their flights, such as the one whose plane took off, came back to the airport because of a "slight mechanical failure," took off again, and returned again.


At one point the pilot emerged from the cockpit to ask how much alcohol was on board. This is not an inquiry that inspires confidence in passengers. It also raises several questions. Had the pilot run out of alcohol, up there in the cockpit? Was "mechanical failure" code for "we need more"? And why weren't the passengers getting any of this alcohol?


At some point my colleague abandoned the plane and returned the following day for a flight on which, it was hoped, the only mechanical failure would involve opening her bag of peanuts.


In the end we all arrived safely in [think Indiana]. We had four stimulating days during which to immerse ourselves in the current topics of education, and in our free time, during those long summer evenings, to contemplate our return flights home.