United Flight 162

I flew to Boston today to attend the funeral of my friend Pamela's mother, Ann Frame. I never got the chance to know Ann well--we met only briefly a few years ago. But Pamela is a friend who has at times dropped everything to swoop in with love and encouragement when I needed it most, so I would go nearly to the ends of the earth to try to do the same for her.

Air travel is a wonderful, amazing thing that also freaks me out if I think about it too hard.

"Watch your elbows and
knees, please, elbows and knees," chants
the flight attendant
in a sing-song cockney voice,
pushing the beverage
cart down the aisle. This strikes me
as funny. As I
hurtle through the air in a
metal shell, strapped to
a foam seat, going
six hundred miles per hour at
thirty thousand feet,
my elbows and knees
are the least of my worries.