Turbulence
by Maureen Baraka Bonfante
Shimmy, Shimmy
SHAAAAKE!
Like a chicken cutlet
getting breaded in a zip-lock,
by a hungry man.
I am not big on the concept of fleshy, multi-celled organisms being enclosed in metal containers, in single unit or en masse and shooting out to the space above the clouds. "I can feel and be very close to the Creator from down here. Thank you very much!" Whether these vehicles-slash-temporary dwellings (depending on the length of your travel you may be dwelling in them) weigh a few thousand pounds like a Cesna or close to a 100 tons like a Boeing seems unnatural. Give me horseback or bicycle, a great pair of boots or sneakers, I'll get cross country. Backpack strapped, instead of strapping down to a coach or first class padded seat. Eventually. In a few months. That's the way man was designed to travel. Use those legs!
Ahhh, but the joy of travel by today's modern man. Metals forged and blended with a variety of resins, fabrics, and other components into vessels of different shapes, sizes and modes of transporting fleshy masses from Timbuctoo to the Galapagos. The science. The ingenuity. The training of all involved from project development to final product daily launches. Where would we be without them?
It's 2809 miles from New York City to San Diego. Walking at a pace of 3 miles per hour, 10 hours a day you could get there in 94 days and if you bike 40 hours a day 70 days, but you'll need lodging and that can get pricey. Amtrak with transfers, 4 days at a cost of $272 one-way. By car with a team of drivers to hit the road with you, keep the car in go mode and shape, driving non-stop, 43 hours. Forget about the GA$! And who would think of subjecting a horse to carrying ones weight for such a long journey? Where would you stop to get feed and a stable? Lush open plains for grazing?
"Ze plane, ze plane," shouted Tattoo as guests flew in to "Fantasy Island," that is ze way to go!
*******
Left to right: Herve Villechaize (Tattoo) and Ricardo Montalban (Mr. Roarke)
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What spectacular views of creation await you!
It's 2809 miles from New York City to San Diego. Walking at a pace of 3 miles per hour, 10 hours a day you could get there in 94 days and if you bike 40 hours a day 70 days, but you'll need lodging and that can get pricey. Amtrak with transfers, 4 days at a cost of $272 one-way. By car with a team of drivers to hit the road with you, keep the car in go mode and shape, driving non-stop, 43 hours. Forget about the GA$! And who would think of subjecting a horse to carrying ones weight for such a long journey? Where would you stop to get feed and a stable? Lush open plains for grazing?
"Ze plane, ze plane," shouted Tattoo as guests flew in to "Fantasy Island," that is ze way to go!*******
Left to right: Herve Villechaize (Tattoo) and Ricardo Montalban (Mr. Roarke)
*******
What spectacular views of creation await you!
San Diego (right)
San Diego Coastline (left). Sky before turbulence begins (right)
And then there's the turbulence. What to do, what to do, if you aren't a fan of roller coasters, heights and being confined to a chair or being boxed in for any length of time, but travel by plane you must? Nothing, just let go and relax! Trust in the skill of the pilot and crew to get passengers safely to point B. A prayer, some meditation can't hurt either. Some people like to talk about the movement of the plane to their travel companions. "Wu-ooh! Did you feel that one?" "Oh my God." "I remember one time..." Others drink, if they were fortunate enough to get one in hand before the shimmy shaking commenced. Sleep. Read. Watch the mini-back seat or over head TV. Listen to some music.
As the English Playwright and Poet, William Congreve penned in Act 1, Scene 1 of the tragedy "The Mourning Bride" (1697), spoken by Almeria, the Princess of Granada:
"Music has Charms to sooth a savage breast,
To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak."
Music works, but just what kind is a question of taste and mood. For my ride back to NYC from San Diego the other day I choose Acoustic Singers, most on guitar. I call the following sampling of tunes I listened to in between reading, TV viewing, napping and munching, my Turbulence Mix, courtesy of Jet Blue, (xm) radio. The title of Jacqui Naylor's song "Easy Ride From Here," set the neurons off to a positive frame of mind. All had deep, rich, engaging lyrics, music and singing. Enjoy.
LINKS OF INTEREST
" Do you have a fear of flying?"
Check out Les Posen's Fear of Flying Weblog for great tips. Understand the dynamics behind turbulence, why it is not unsafe, methods to reduce flight anxiety and more.
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Miscellaneous:
"Timbuctoo" sometimes written "Tim Buck Two"- is a slang expression used to refer to something far away. "All the way from Timbuctoo." Timbuktu is a city in Mali on the edge of the Sahara. A key post on the trans-Saharan caravan route for trade of gold and salt and Islamic scholarship. It is also a town in California in Yuba county, off the Yuba River and depending on what version of the story you follow it was named for or by an African American miner, who was originally from the Mali city. Either way, today unfortunately it is just a ghost town like many in the United States. With no push for preservation, its presence in the American landscape is fading fast.
More on Timbuktu
At the behest of his father nineteen year old Alfred Tennyson submitted a poem on the subject of Timbuktu for a contest and his poem "Timbuctoo" won. Here's a sample:
(Lines 1-9)
I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks
The narrow seas, whose rapid interval
Parts Africa from green Europe, when the Sun
Had fall'n below th' Atlantick, and above
The silent Heavens were blench'd with faery light,
Uncertain whether faery light or cloud,
Flowing Southward, and the chasms of deep, deep blue
Slumber'd unfathomable, and the stars
Were flooded over with clear glory and pale.
(Lines 215-224)
I am the Spirit,
The permeating life which courseth through
All th' intricate and labyrinthine veins
Of the great vine of Fable, which, outspread
With growth of shadowing leaf and clusters rare,
Reacheth to every corner under Heaven,
Deep-rooted in the living soil of truth;
So that men's hope and fears take refuge in
The fragrance of its complicated glooms,
And cool impleached twilights.
For more on this and to read his poem at length go to http://www.pathguy.com/timbuc.htm
(Lines 1-9)
I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks
The narrow seas, whose rapid interval
Parts Africa from green Europe, when the Sun
Had fall'n below th' Atlantick, and above
The silent Heavens were blench'd with faery light,
Uncertain whether faery light or cloud,
Flowing Southward, and the chasms of deep, deep blue
Slumber'd unfathomable, and the stars
Were flooded over with clear glory and pale.
(Lines 215-224)
I am the Spirit,
The permeating life which courseth through
All th' intricate and labyrinthine veins
Of the great vine of Fable, which, outspread
With growth of shadowing leaf and clusters rare,
Reacheth to every corner under Heaven,
Deep-rooted in the living soil of truth;
So that men's hope and fears take refuge in
The fragrance of its complicated glooms,
And cool impleached twilights.
For more on this and to read his poem at length go to http://www.pathguy.com/timbuc.htm
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