It is what it is

The 24 Effect

I'm always impressed when I realize that a fictional story or character is impacting my thinking even after I turn off the tube or close the book.  So, while I thought this season of 24 was rather boring, I still consider myself an avid fan, and I suppose it should have come as no surprise to me when Jack and Chloe's way of seeing the world recently took over my thinking.

As I was sitting on the plane last week waiting to go to Palm Springs via LAX, the pilot announced that the flight would not be able to take off as scheduled as the radar was down at LAX and no planes could take off or land until that was fixed.  It's never particularly fun sitting on a plane waiting for it to take off,  but this was a reason I hadn't heard before.

The usual reasons, often involving mechanical problems, certainly give me pause. Do I really want to be on a plane when its computers weren't working until a mechanic came along and jiggled some wires? Or the landing equipment was just fixed? Or they needed to re-start the plane to see if they could get both of the engines or some other equipment to start up?  At times like these, I get flashbacks to the Time/Life books I saw advertised on TV as a kid that talked about intuition or supernatural signs impacting people's life decisions and used the example of a man who decides at the last minute not to get on the plane that ended up crashing. The problem for me is that when I'm flying, I pretty much always get that feeling that tells me to get off the plane.  I hope that when I'm really supposed to listen to that intuition it will be glaringly obvious.

But the radar delay got me thinking in an entirely different direction. Rather than raising concerns about the safety of my specific plane, instead I started thinking of all of the reasons "the bad guys" might knock out the radar at LAX (coincidentally the location of 24's CTU and where all of the show's action goes down).  Obviously, post-9/11, safety related questions often lead the mind to thoughts of terrorism, but I think my specific line of thought could be traced more clearly to my loyal viewing of 24.  Clearly Chole O'Brien would know that the radar was down so that "the bad guys" could stealthily fly some other "bad guys" in without being seen on radar. Or to blanket LA with some airborne toxins and go undetected. 

After about an hour of my mind running through the different possible scenarios, we took off and landed uneventfully in LA.  I was happy that the Jack Bauer scenarios continued to remain fictional.

Where is home?

A few months back, I took a solo vacation back to San Francisco. When the plane landed at SFO, the man in the next seat turned to me and asked "So, is this home for you?"  A seemingly simple question, but for me it brought a real emotional pang. In that I don't live there, I suppose the simple answer would be "no, this isn't home for me."

In reality, it feels more like home than any other place on earth. After living in the Bay Area for 17 years and having virtually every meaningful life experience there, mostly with people who still live there, how could any other place possibly compete for the moniker of 'home.'

After moving to Boulder last summer, I quickly set about the task of turning our house into a home, busying myself with some small construction projects, decorating, landscaping. This kept me busy enough to distract me from the bigger challenge - moving physically and setting up shop was one thing, moving emotionally has proven a bigger task.  In many ways, I guess it's comparable to breaking up with someone, but trying to leave the door open for a future relationship.  How to continue to appreciate your ex, while looking for and being open to a new relationship. We don't know how long we'll end up staying in Boulder, and in my heart I know that at some point we'll end up back in San Francisco either full or part-time, but right now my challenge is figuring out how to move on and fully embrace our new home.

Where's the applause?

As a nervous flier, I have a series of rituals I follow as part of every flight.  While objectively I can acknowledge that it would appear that I have little control over the outcome of a flight, I continue to practice my rituals at every take off and landing, creating a small sense that I'm doing my part to ensure a safe flight.

After a perfectly manageable flight to SFO last week, and a nice smooth landing, I was again able to breathe easy on the tarmac, but was left wondering why collectively we no longer acknowledge the wonderful feat that has just occurred.

Maybe I'm imagining it or just becoming really old as I begin a sentence with "When I was a kid...", but I do recall people clapping when pilots had great smooth landings.  Personally, I feel like standing on my seat and cheering "Halleluyah!" every time the wheels touch down safely, but I've refrained from it thus far.