Trip to Scotland Episode 1: On Being Tall (3/25/06)

As I fly high above God’s good creation, looking down on what are probably clouds—but might be fields, one thing is for certain: it sucks to be tall. It is taking every last bit of self-control I have—which, compared to the average person is very little—to keep from freaking out in a claustrophobic, nightmarish episode. Or, in the words of my father, I am about to have a small but significant bird. I can picture how that would go….The other two folks in my row, not of yet commending themselves for their warmth and pleasantries, would become even better acquainted with my patented brand of psychosis, as I wave my hands wildly above my head and cry out for some room to stretch my legs. I’ve tried thirteen different ways of sitting, none of which have yet merited anything close to the comfort required for sleep.

It also doesn’t help that the sun is bright and cheery at 50,000 feet…or however high we are flying. I am not sure of our exact elevation because the only part of the captain’s schpiel that resembled comprehensible speech was in German, or some other nonsensical, non-English language. I bet the guy is saying things like, “Americans are so stupid…they don’t even know what I’m saying right now.” Also, the person in front of me felt it would be a good idea to recline her seat as far back as she could—just shy of the rivets dislodging from their sockets in a glorious 4th of July precursor. In order to even type this, I’m forced to let my laptop teeter awkwardly on the edge of my seat tray, as I forcefully lodge it between the seat in front of me and my belly. For once, my belly takes one for the team.

You know, it’s not all bad though. I’m listening to ‘Takk’ by Sigur Ros, and it is soothing me in a profound way. When I hear certain songs, it is as if my body exhales my soul. The beauty of the art causes me to heave a sigh of contentment so deep that, before I know it, my soul is just hovering in front of my face, making me wonder at what a strange, unfamiliar creature it is. It slowly turns, but always stares at me. I see it from every angle, but it always looks the same. Then, the moment passes, the song ends and thin air becomes thinner by its vanishing.