Page 24 - Oct22T

From the Flight Deck
by Kevin R. Dingman
Diagnosis: A Dichotomy
Afraid of Flying?
A mask tells us more
than a face.
– Oscar Wilde
“Tis the season in which we are expected to scare and be scared. Second only to Christmas in dollars spent, the festival of All Hallows Eve,
the eve of All Saints’ Day, is the most enthusiastically celebrated of Catholic holidays commemorating Chris- tian saints and martyrs. Even so, October 31 now blends numerous different traditions and religious holidays into one amalgam of costumes, pumpkin-carving, treat-giving, trick-playing and assaults on our pancreas. Participants don costumes ranging from the angelic to the demonic. Pranks and devilish deeds are not only anticipated but encouraged, and behavior normally considered unhealthy or moderately risqué is toleraed. Despite this dichotomy, with its associated decadence, ghoulishness, fears and dread, we await the holiday with both anticipation and trepidation – like watching a ghoul sneaking up behind the horror-movie hero. Since Halloween approaches, let’s con- fess among ourselves in the private brotherhood of these pages that we sometimes have trepidation about flying.
22 • TWIN & TURBINE / October 2022
Many of us love to fly. It’s a lifelong passion infused with structure, rules, regulations and mental and physi- cal challenges – cumulating in a wonderful sense of joy, accomplishment and freedom. And this is the first part of our dichotomy. Flying can also be peppered with monsters, ghouls and demons. The list of fiendish threats is exten- sive: the weather, the rocks, our health, our proficiency, our money, our machine, the airspace system, and even the night. And our judicator is the boogeyman himself. And don’t forget the “bride-of-the-boogeyman” – the FAA. This is but a short list of the real and imagined menaces we overcome to fly – which would be the second contra- dictory part of our dichotomy.
Both Definitions of Anxious
Despite the times we scared ourselves, made bad de- cisions, ran a bit too low on fuel, stretched the weight and balance envelope, lost an engine again (the Duke
di·chot·o·my
noun. Division into two usually contradictory parts or opinions, especially when they are sharply distinguished or opposed.