The Christmas Trip Home

Posted on December 22nd, 2006 by Christine.
Categories: Hilarious, True Story.

Let me preface this with… I love my Christopher to death. He’s truly one of the most interesting people I know. He’s extremely smart, ambitious, reliable, funny. He reminds me of the type of guy I remember knowing in high school that I would have had a secret crush on… the kind that is good at everything (academics, athletics, etc.), is always invited to the fun parties, always makes the parties fun, and is always just a little hard to figure out completely. I didn’t know him in high school, but I’m guessing that’s what he was like.

Having had the opportunity to get close to Christopher, and really get to know him, some of those mysteries have been explained, and some haven’t. I know I’ve made fun of Christopher in the past for his irrational fear of sharks and ocean swimming, but I’d completely forgot about his fear of flying until this past week while he was getting ready to go back to Pennsylvania for Christmas.

My life with Christopher is about as odd as anyone’s could possibly be (I know he feels the same about his life with me), but I wanted to share this little conversation we had last night at dinner, about 4 hours before he was going to get on the plane.

Me: “So babe… you nervous about flying?”

Christopher: “You know I hate flying. It stresses me out.”

Me: “I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal to you.”

Christopher: “I like to be in control.”

Me: “Really???? I never knew that about you.”

Christopher: “I don’t want to trust some drunk pilot with my life.”

Me: “I doubt the pilots are drunk. Why don’t you take flying lessons so that way, if a pilot ever does pass out at the controls, you could step up and land the plane?” Please note, I was totally kidding about this.

Christopher: “Well… air traffic would be able to tell me which controls and buttons to push… and I have practiced on the flight simulator.”

There’s a note of seriousness in his voice.

Me: “The flight simulator?”

Christopher: “Yeah… on my XBox. I practiced flying the 747. It gives you a flight lesson.”

At that point, I wasn’t sure what to say. His blue eyes told me he was serious on some level and I knew he was being honest when he said he’d practiced flying a 747 on his video game… but at the same time, this is a very, very intelligent man. He reads constantly, he absorbs information like a sponge, he can do very complicated math problems in his head… and yet, where was reality that should have suggested he couldn’t possibly fly a commercial plane after practicing on a video game?

I just looked at him.

Then I wonder how many 30 year old American males really believe they could do something like this based on video game experience… probably lots. The American man is a breed of his own… confident beyond all reasonable abilities. There’s something a little scary about that… but also kinda sexy…

I picture myself being on a plane that is spiraling toward the earth and a flight attendant coming out of the cockpit and saying “Does anyone know how to fly a plane???” (ala Leslie Nielsen style in “Airplane). Then, 50 young, 30-something American men all raising their hands saying “I can, I can!” Fifteen of them rush to the cockpit, piling on top of each other. One manages to wedge his way into the pilot’s seat. They all clamor to give advice on what to do, which buttons to push, arguing that they know better because they’ve played the game more than the other…

And Christopher is right there with them in the thick of it all. Thanks to his XBox.

A part of me doesn’t want to burst his little dream– the one that he must need to will himself to get on that plane. But part of me sort of appreciates the Christopher that’s grounded in reality too.

He’s still staring at me with those blue eyes.

“Well…” I say, “most plane crashes aren’t caused by the pilots getting drunk. They’re caused by mechanical failures. But I think you’re going to be okay on this one…”

He gives me a half-hearted, unconvinced nod and drags another french fry through the pile of ketchup on his plate… his mind still reliving all he’d learned on his flight simulator just in case…

That’s my Christopher. He’s still a mystery to me. But it’s only been 12 hours since he left and I miss him already.

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