Fear of…
: I’m in transit to San Diego and I have to admit that I am still a wimp (or perhaps a wise man) about flying: It freaks me now. Before September 11th, I found it merely inconvenient. Now I find it potentially terrifying. I’m not talking about clutching the gangway on the way down to the jet. I’m talking about odd symptoms that occur: sense of dread; more cardiac issues; regret at agreeing to go. Don’t talk to me about odds. I’m sure the odds of getting shot in Baghdad or mugged in a bad neighborhood are less than the odds of, say, slipping to my death in the bathtub (thank God I take showers). It’s not about probabilities. It’s about possibilities. And the problem with terror is that now, any insane thing is possible. But I’m enjoying the free wi-fi at the Continental lounge, trying to think about that and spread my neuroses to you.
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