I Think...

So I'm sitting on the plane flying back from L.A., when we hit something. Turbulence, I suppose. I guess. I think. But I'm not any type of airline pilot experty type, so I don't really know for sure. I just know that it felt as if we'd run over a deer. Not that I've ever run over a deer. But I imagine that's what it would feel like.

Anyway, the pilot gets on the intercom and says, "Folks, what you just felt, I think we passed through a jet stream from another plane that was here previously." I THINK? Did the man piloting this aircraft just say, "I think"??? Why the heck doesn't he know?! He should be able to tell us exactly where we are and what we're doing at all times. Maybe I've got high expectations, but I genuinely expect my pilot to know what's going on! The pilot doesn't need to be a rocket scientist, but he does have hundreds of lives in his hands. (Of course, Kevin, we're all really in God's hands...don't start.) But I think of a pilot as kind of like a multi-tasking, brain surgeon of the sky, performing a difficult operation on hundreds of passengers at a time. He's responsible for knowing about longitude and latitude and landing procedures and flicking lots of complicated button sequences like they do in movies.

And what is this business about flying through something that some other plane left behind? What...a plane left its ghost behind? Or was it more of a plane fart? Why didn't the pilot see it coming?

Know what I think? I think it would be nice to never have to put my life in someone else's hands again that far up in the sky. I think I would like to teleport myself. Or better yet -- apparate and disapparate. I think...

- Inda