Thursday, April 08, 2010
(fm the BC thread "Fly the friendly skies")
Ten years ago or maybe more my parents flew to the FSU for a vacation. At one point they had to take a small jet between Moscow and some other city, maybe Kiev. My mother's description of the plane was positively cinematic. It reeked. It was filthy. The flight attendants were surly and rude cursing at the sullen and uncooperative passengers. It looked like it was held together with rubber bands and baling wire. Mother did not want to get on that aircraft. And then the pilot arrived. He was tall, blond, square jawed, clear eyed, like a Greek God in an immaculate uniform. He strode through the waiting crowd and into the cockpit like Moses walking through the Red Sea. My mother turned to my father and said "Well if he is willing to fly on this plane then I am willing to fly on this plane."