Things I Know 188 of 365: Their relationship changed in a second (The Lost Post)

Illiteracy is rampant. People are out of communication.

– Karen Black

On a plane for Atlanta.

The row ahead of me includes, from aisle to window, dad, mom, 3-4 year old.

While signs suggest this isn’t junior’s first flight, he’s also not quite ready to take over for the captain.

He cannot help moving. He is driven by the energy of a pre-schooler multiplied by the idea of actually flying – up there – in the planes. They look so sky when they sore over his house.

I sit at a safe observation distance in the aisle seat with a sleeping elderly couple providing suitable insulation between  my flight and this kid’s frenetic energy.

I’ve other work to complete, but can’t tear my eyes and ears off of the scene.

This little guy cannot stop investigating. He’s got questions, and his compact size allows him to wiggle to vantage points I’ve never enjoyed in flight.

I am loving the story he’s writing of the flight.

The flight attendants, all big hair and drink rations, are having none of it.

“Ma’am? Ma’am! He’s got to sit. He’s got to sit down. The captain’s got the fasten seatbelt sign on. Ma’am?”

The line is delivered with a smile reminiscent of the one the evil queen must have flashed when meeting her stepdaughter while courting Snow White’s dad.

Not above attempting help, the flight attendant tries to buy compliance from the little guy, “Do you like chocolate milk? I think I’ve got some chocolate milk in back.”

Motion stops in the seat, and the flight attendant turns toward the tail of the plane. To no one in particular, she flashes a face of “OH. MY. LORD.”

After the milk is delivered, our rows enjoy a period of relative calm.

“Uh-oh, mommy,” I hear.

Mom’s head looks toward the window seat and then turns to dad, “His armrest is broken. We should tell them.”

Dad, stereotypically non-communicative, nods his head and heads back to sleep.

Twenty minutes later, mom and kid work their way to the restroom. He’s gotta go. Plus, peeing on a plane sounds like an adventure.

While they’re away, flight attendants begin collecting trash. One meets another just behind my row.

“He broke the armrest,” she says.

A heavy, all-knowing sigh.

They continue on their way.

From that point, until we exit the plane, a quiet battle takes place between the flight attendants and the family seated in front of me. It’s as thought mom, dad, and kid have shown themselves to be incompetent as passengers. Several times, they are questioned as to the upright and locked status of their seat backs as we prepare for landing.

The kid has broken their plane and they will take it out on this family in the only way they know how – by flight attending them to death.

As I watch the situation turn from cute to funny to sad, I wonder at the seconds of miscommunication that shift how these two groups understand one another. An event took place for which neither was responsible, but both were party to, and it defined how they came to know one another.

It took only seconds.

Things I Know 185 of 365: I wonder what’s next

That’s one small step for man…

– Buzz Aldrin

So what’s next?

As Atlantis made its way to the heavens, I felt a bit sad. This was it.

The feeling is somewhat akin to what happens in my brain the day after completing a marathon.  No other races on the horizon, a lack of purpose starts to circulate.

Sure, there’ talk of manned flight to Mars and landing on an asteroid. I all in favor of those. Thing is, I am also supremely confident those things will happen in my lifetime. Years of watching science fiction movies and television have made these goals seem almost expected. They are the logical next steps to where we have been thus far.

I want the illogical next steps.

A moment passed us by when Atlantis launched and no leader took to the podium to say, “Here’s what’s next. I know it sounds perfectly impossible, but we are in the business of the impossible.”

People don’t need permission to dream, but encouragement isn’t going to hurt.

Things I Know 179 of 365: Not all systems need disrupting

We’re flying in a Lockheed Eagle Series L-1011. Came off the line twenty months ago. Carries a Sim-5 transponder tracking system. And you’re telling me I can still flummox this thing with something I bought at Radio Shack?

– Richard Schiff as Toby Zigler in The West Wing

I think the man across the aisle from me wants our plane to crash. Just before takeoff, when the flight attendants were announcing the need to power down all electronic devices, I saw him select a playlist on his iPhone and slip the phone into his pocket.

A few hours into our flight and he’s still sitting across from me, still listening to his music…and we’re still in the air.

My phone is off, in my pocket.

It will stay there because I have been told that is where it should be.

Thirty minutes later, we’re still in the air, and guy-across-from-me is still listening to music on his phone.

It strikes me as counter to my nature that I don’t follow the evidence and have my phone out during the takeoff and touchdown.

I admit it seems highly unlikely that my phone, my Kindle or my iPod would take down this 757. If that were the case, I probably wouldn’t be allowed to have them on the plane in the first place.

But I don’t know.

And that’s the key.

I don’t understand the system. Aviation, engineering, electronics – all these are outside the areas of my expertise.

In this system, I have an amazing amount at stake. I am thoroughly invested and committed to its success.

Entire sub-systems and interactions are beyond my understanding. Thus, I keep my mouth shut. If I decided to study aeronautics, become familiar with everything involved in the process of moving a plane from one side of the country to another, then would I have a space to speak up.

When my life and the lives of others are on the line, it’s probably best not to disrupt a system I do not understand.