"Seriously God? I'm going to die in a plane crash? Come on! Stupid dentist!" Those were my thoughts on my last flight from Dallas to San Jose, Costa Rica.
I don't care what you say, flying is scary, and that's coming from someone who flies about every two weeks of his life. I know all the stats, "You are more likely to die in a car wreck, or get hit by lightning, or have Slenderman eat your face." I KNOW that, but it still doesn't make turbulence feel like a unicorn is licking my nose and giving me butterfly kisses. I still have to nervous pee twenty times before I board and kung fu grip the tiny tray table on the seat in front of me when the plane quivers.
But at least on my DFW - SJO flight I had good reason! I was with my family who you can see in the before picture when their smiles hadn't been smeared away with The Ring style gaping mouths of horror.
Most of the flight was great, everyone was full of glee that we were going back to Panama where we spend a good chunk of our time (my wife is Panamanian). However, as we were about to begin our descent, the pilot got on the intercom and did the classic pilot long-sigh and said, "I've turned on the seatbelt sign, we are going to hit some turbulence on our way into San Jose, please buckle up."
When pilots say we are going to hit turbulence I immediately go white and my wife starts speaking in tongues and singing ye olde hymns. It usually isn't that bad, but this time it got pretty nasty. We hit a storm, which put us through the normal bumping and jostling where everyone already thinks they are going to die and scream. That was no fun, but I've been through it, so I'm okay because we started to descend.
I knew Costa Rica is almost always raining in the afternoons, and so you almost always have to go through some kind of turbulence to land there, but as long as you are descending you are going to push through it in a couple of minutes and the unicorn will be back gracefully flapping his beautiful rainbow-colored eyelashes against your cheek.
Unfortunately for us, this time, right as the plane burst through the clouds and we could see the landing strip, the pilot pulled hard up back into the death clouds and went into a holding pattern of merciless rocking and rolling for twenty minutes before he got on the intercom again.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have had some kind of mechanical failure and the landing gear (the wheels) would not come down. We aren't sure because we can't see them, but we think they are down now."
You see. There isn't a GoPro sitting under the airplane for them to see the landing gear. They have a light in the cockpit that tells them it won't come down. When that light goes off they think it probably did, but if they are having mechanical failures and turbulence, lights can come on and go off and you wouldn't really know what is happening. On top of that, even if the landing gear did go down, there is no telling if it would actually hold on the landing because something could be wrong in the mechanism.
"We think it's down but we aren't exactly sure what's going to happen when we land, so please buckle in tight and brace yourselves."
When a pilot says that, all anyone hears is, "We're all going to die, make your peace with God."
When we came out of the clouds again there were dozens of ambulances and fire trucks sitting on the runway, and everyone was either screaming or crying.
For me the absolute worst part of it, and I think any parent would agree, was seeing my kids crying and asking me to make it stop and not having the slightest ability to do anything.
So how do you prepare for your death in a fiery crash?
It of course depends on the situation you are in. For me in particular it matters if I'm alone or with my family. On my own I just white-knuckle the nearest object and blast my headphones with peaceful music. Being with my family in that moment though, I wasn't thinking about my own death, I can live with dying (get it?), I was thinking about my wife and kids. My four year old was anaconda squeezing my wife and screaming, "We did it Papa! We did it!" Which is his way of saying, "What's happening? Help me!" because he has a speech delay.
My oldest son was trying to be brave, but was still crying at his window seat with the full view, and my wife was singing to my four year old, running her fingers through his hair and trying to calm him down and keep it together.
As for me, I was across the row. We were right across from each other, holding hands distance, but I was sitting next to a crazy dentist who was oblivious to everything happening. He would NOT stop talking. Even though I made it so obvious that I didn't care about how one time the wing of his plane rammed into another plane as they were taxiing for takeoff. We're all about to die! Who cares!
I kept trying to comfort my children, but Chatty the Dentist refused to stop talking. His poor wife, who he ignored, had her arms wrapped about his and buried her face in his shoulder also waiting to die, but this guy lives on a different planet were terror toucheth not his heart.
In the end my wife comforted the kids through the whole thing, we landed safely, and everyone clapped and cheered (which by the way is the ONLY time it makes sense to clap for a landing for all you landing clappers out there), and I fended off the dentist.
So how do you prepare for your impending doom? I have no idea, because the annoying dentist wouldn't let me. Maybe that is how you prepare, just talk about something else and pretend it isn't happening. Or be next to someone who annoys you so much it totally consumes the danger. Who knows, maybe the dentist was a genius who knew exactly what he was doing. I have no idea, all I know is I'm flying with my family to Colombia this Sunday and he better not be there.