Every day is a struggle to avoid bodily harm.
I don't smoke or drink or eat fried foods or ride roller coasters or drink milk more than a week before its expiration date or walk through tall grass or touch other human without immediately burning off potential germs with Purell.
Yet for some reason, on an airplane, I'm chillin' like Sully Sullenberger.
At takeoff, I curl myself into a ball against the window, cozy up with my iPod set to a Genius Playlist based on the Goo Goo Dolls, and sleep through the potential life-gamble in the clouds.
When it comes to landing, I tend to ignore all instruction, from the seat-belts to the upright-and-locked-position-bullshit because let's face it:
It doesn't make a damn difference regarding your safety.
Astonishing, No? It's like Evan's rationality only likes kick in at 30,000 ft.
One precaution I've always proudly defied is the "electronic rule" during takeoff and landing.
I'm using my iPod for the whole 2 hours and 55 minutes, bitch. And no one will stop me.
I just don't see the practicality of this FAA regulation...
Will Air Traffic Control suddenly start hearing my MP3 of "Pokerface" through their headsets and re-route the Boeing directly into a School for the Blind???
Will the pilot have a seizure induced from my decision to run through Phil Collin's Greatest Hits album?
A cell phone, I understand.
It can interfere with radio signals or some shit, maybe.
But the iKrum??
No way.
The Devil Incarnate
On my last flight, an elderly woman resembling a hybrid between Judge Judy and a Gremlin decided to remedy my obstinacy...
*We being our descent: landing gear, looking out the window at a vast toy-town, the whole thing*
Crotchety Old Bitch: They said to turn off all electronics...(she points to my 'Pod)
Me: (removing my ear bud): Oh, yeah...no, I put it on Airplane Mode so it doesn't interfere with anything, it's fine.
Bitch: The captain just said "all electronic devices..."
Me: Yes..I've flown on a plane before, but you don't understand, it won't affect us in any way.. I promise... we're like a minute from the ground.
(The old woman presses the Flight Attendant button)
Me: You're kidding..
(I take out my Details magazine with Adam Lambert on the cover as the Stereotypical Homosexual Male Flight Attendant In His Mid-40's approaches, yellow tie and all)
Gay Guy in the Sky: Is everything alright?
Bitch: He won't turn off his machine...
Me: Sir, I have no idea what this woman is talking about....and earlier she said something to me about trading my Terra Blue chips for a chance at the Mile-High Club? I didn't get that either..
Flight Attendant: What?...Look, we're landing.. let's just try be civil here? Okay??
Me: *grinning* Of course.
(He goes back to his little seat against the wall in the back, we land and I take out my phone)
Me: "Dad...yea, just landed, you'll never believe this, but we almost died! I left my iPod on when we were landing, and the plane began to shake and dip, so this really smart Grandma informed me to turn it off and we landed safely...praise Jesus!"
Bitch: Prick.
As I removed my backpack from the overhead storage compartment, I turned slightly and she caught a mouthful of North Face.
I aspire to read about the day when Al-Qaeda takes a flight hostage by waving iPods during take-off.
