The Friendly Skies

Reading about the commuter plane crash in Upstate New York has caused some old worries of mine to resurface.

I live under a major flightpath to my local airport.

This wasn't too worrisome until commuter/business charter flights became a tour-de-force there a few years ago. Now, on top of the heavy air traffic from the local National Guard unit, all sorts of commuter craft are added to the mix, especially after 5pm. The noise is stressful and I've always wondered where exactly do they dump out the lavatory (can you say "potential disease vector")? There are also strange science fiction-type noises that I hear on occasion that I flat out cannot identify- is someone testing experimental military aircraft (like maybe the crash-prone Osprey plane/helicopter hybrid?) or is it just the sound of planes breaking the sound barrier (this close to the airport?). Even before September 11th, the day-to-day sound and sights of living under a flightpath gave me terrible nightmares of horrific crashes and flaming death. So you can imagine that those nightmares have by no means decreased in frequency.

Add to this mix the "dusting" planes that my state uses to spray for mosquitoes that have on more than one occasion flown so close to the tree line that I could throw a baseball at the belly of the beast and probably muck up its landing gear. And I can't fail to mention the giant arse at the port who owns a helicopter and likes to take the occasional joyride at HOUSE level over where the old farm used to be just a few houses away.

Clearly, my environment has had a profound effect on me in regards to flying. This recent crash is another brick in the wall for me. The only way I'm ever getting on a flying vehicle is if someone pulls an "A-Team" on me (B.A. hated planes and the team had to drug/incapacitate him to get him on one without a bodycount). I love how the FAA and various flying experts like to kick around numbers that show that flying is safer than driving, etc. But to the experts these are just numbers, to people who lose loved ones in these statistically insignificant accidents, they are sons, daughters, husbands, wives, uncles, aunts, and grandparents- they are losing their world. One life lost is one life too many in my book. When flying can meet that goal, then I'll call it "safe".