Planes and Prayer

After a half hour delay for “issues” unknown, my plane for DC took off. I offered up my customary prayer for a safe trip during the period which wireless devices aren’t allowed, and then as we took off, noticed that our right wing was a lot more, um, floppy than our left wing.

That’s not normal. The left wing was moving as we took off, but just a few inches and looked quite rigid. The right wing, by comparison, was flopping around about twice as much. I wasn’t too alarmed, but couldn’t help but think “hey, don’t we want that thing to be, you know, strong and not flapping around like an elderly woman’s jiggling arm flab?”

Good think I got that prayer in. Normally, I just silently and quickly ask that the plane has a safe trip because the student-athletes I am usually flying with have so much potential and long lives ahead of them. Then I follow that up with, “and if the plane does go down, please make sure my character is in the movie and someone attractive plays me.”

Hey, they mad We Are Marshall. If I’m on a team plane that crashes, there should be a movie!

Ever swear to God in a prayer? Not like “I swear to you that I’ll go to church more if you keep that wing from flopping like a European in the NBA” but like “Lord, flying into Huntington WV” (for example) “is terrifying the shit out of me…”

Well, I accidentally dropped an F-bomb. As in, “and if the plane does go down, I’m glad I’m with these (F people) and not student-athletes with potential.”

Oh well. I think I’m screwed. If you’re reading this, it means the plane landed safely and let me post this during my layover, or my crackberry survived and was found in the wreckage.

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