The Big Book of Worries - Take off

It’s something of a no-brainer this one. Who isn’t scared by thought of hurtling skywards at 500kmh? We’ve all seen the wreckage strewn hillsides on TV, pieces of fuselage and aeroplane wing scattered everywhere, plus the intact tail section found miles away. You know a plane crash is just not in any way survivable. You also know the most dangerous part of air travel is the take off. The landing isn’t too safe either, but that’s another ball of wax.

Fortunately, I’ve taken enough flights to not worry about it for the most part. It’s not really until the plane trundles round to the runway that the anxiety begins to take hold. The cabin crew run through the safety routine, the Captain welcomes you with the chit chat about cruising altitude, the temperature on the ground at your destination, and the fact that we are rolling off the gate a few minutes late, but we don’t expect any more delays, so let’s just sit back and enjoy the flight. Well, once we are safely in the air! The plane turns onto the runway, and you get a brief view of the runway lights as they stretch into the distance as far as you can see. A couple of bongs on the intercom, and one last word from the captain, “cabin crew, prepare for take-off”.

By now my palms are probably a little sweaty. I’ve tried various techniques for this moment, head deep in a magazine or a book, happily talking to the person next to you (this is only possible if they are travelling with you) or eyes closed supposedly in a deep care free sleep. None of these can possibly work when your life is on the line! No, once you hear the engines rev up to full power, and there’s that lurch through your seat as the plane begins speeding up, you try to prepare yourself mentally for the next couple of life or death minutes.

On the plus side, there are some very comforting statistics you can think about. For one, planes don’t crash very often, and usually it’s not a plane from the well maintained, relatively new fleet that you are likely to find yourself flying on. Secondly, just think about it. The route you are on probably flies this way several times a day, 365 times a year, and a plane has never crashed on this route. In fact planes have hardly ever crashed on any routes, so it’s just not going to be your plane on it’s way to your destination on this particular day and time is it? Or is it? No, the chances really are very, very small! Once you have reassured yourself statistically, just look out of the window at these enormous engines, and the puny little body of the plane to which they are attached. As long as they are in good order, there is no reason at all to believe that they can’t effortlessly launch you skywards .

So the plane is rattling along the runway, picking up speed, and there is no going back. It’s lift-off or bust. You are thrown back in your seat, and you know this is it, the plane oh so slowly leaves the ground. For me there is always that moment, when we seem to have left the ground, but you think for a split second, oh no, it isn’t climbing quickly enough, we are doomed! And then, wham, you’ve gone from just above ground level to high, high in the sky, and there are nothing but model aeroplanes and a kit sized airport down below you. You are up, up and away, no more worries, just sit back for several hours and wait for the fasten seat belt sign to go out, and for someone to bring you a pathetically small drink. Air travel, it’s a piece of cake. Well until it’s time to land anyway.

The Big Book of Worries - Parking

You could say parking here where I live in Princeton, New Jersey is rigorously regulated, you could say it’s also totally retarded, and is somewhat different from the attitudes I grew used to in the eight years I spent living in Paris. A city where I first came across the phrase anarchic parking, and not without good reason. Here in Princeton with their little, golf buggy style parking “enforcers” the traffic officers here spend a good portion of their otherwise free time enforcing the regulations. Where do you start? 10 feet from a fire hydrant, 25 feet from a crosswalk, 50 feet from a stop sign? I even got a ticket once for parking facing the wrong way. Little did I know this was illegal. Then finally of course there is my favourite, your wheels must neither touch the curb nor be more than 6 inches from the curb. Let’s not dwell on the fact that I am completely metric and I wouldn’t have any idea how far 6 inches was, but for it not being exactly half our 30cm rulers.

It’s a worry waiting to happen isn’t it? After all who wants a $60 parking fine? Only yesterday I reversed into a space. And here I have to admit, parking spaces everywhere you look here are vast open spaces, where back in Europe I would have expected at least a normal car and a SMART car to fit snugly together. When I was done reversing, I got out to find, I was still a good 20cm from the curb. And as everyone knows, once you are in a space, the only way you can get any closer is to really come all the way out and try again, and I didn’t fancy that. So with my no worries head firmly attached, a lobbed a few quarters into the metre, and skipped off to run my errands.

Frankly, it was some while before I started to think about those 20cms. I had heard stories of people getting ticketed for such a crime, so I knew it could happen, so I was concerned. I tried not to rush my cappuccino forte as I took a break, even though I could see in my head the parking enforcer pulling alongside and measuring up! By the time I left, I decided to take that short detour past the car on my way to the second hand record store. I’ll be honest this isn’t a heart palpitation level worry, but I was relieved to see no white paper flapping under the wiper as I passed by. I more or less forgot about the whole thing while I was in the record store, I’m really not that bad at worrying I told myself, and when I returned to drive home a little later, I was happy to see that I had happily dodged another small disaster on life’s road.

The Big Book of Worries - Introduction

This is my book. I like to think I am an expert on the subject. I can worry about more or less any thing at any time. And I know I’m not alone in this. You know the feeling, what starts as a small concern, the merest flickering of an idea about something that could conceivably happen, suddenly becomes a life changing, life threatening possibility. Before too long it’s not a possibility any more, it’s almost like it’s already happened. Without even moving from your chair, in your head your life has been changed irrevocably, and a disaster has struck like you always knew it would.

For example, perhaps you are sitting on the neighbours’ couch enjoying some social chit chat when you suddenly start wondering about whether or not you remembered to lock the house. Before you know it, you have imagined the front door springing wide open, because doors can do that can’t they? Now it’s banging wildly in the wind. Your home is not only empty and unguarded, but it’s unlocked and is as good as beckoning in a hoard of opportunist thieves who are helping themselves to everything you own. For goodness’ sake they are stripping the place while you sit here sipping your Martini. What can you do? You wonder just how it’s going to look if you suddenly get up from the couch to stretch your legs, and then if you can casually take a wander past the front window without attracting attention, just to reassure yourself that your TV isn’t making it’s way down the street. Five minutes after this embarrassing little sideshow, you are already wondering about what you saw, could you really see if the door was properly shut from this angle? It could still be unlocked. It probably is! It only takes someone to take a wander up your driveway, and try the lock to find it open. You really need to go back and check that door. You need another excuse. Perhaps you should remember there was something you had to do before you left, something needs taking out of the freezer for dinner perhaps. Would your hosts believe it? Surely anything would be better than sitting here knowing your every possession is being stolen at this very moment. Maybe they walked in the front but are taking everything out the back? Your TV is making it’s way over your back fence right now! That’s it, there’s nothing for it, you need to go back and check that door right away. All in a fluster, you mutter something about frozen spinach, ignoring the incredulous looks you are almost running head long out the front door of your neighbour’s house. All this seems ridiculous, but don’t forget the moment when you get to your door and try the lock with your by now sweat covered palm. Guess what? You find that you had locked it after all. Ok, you feel a little silly but that’s nothing to the feeling of joy and happiness surging through you that all is right with the world once again. You have your whole life in front of you once more, and it’s a wonderful life!

It’s not easy to keep these thoughts inside is it? You didn’t ask for them to appear in your consciousness, they just do. And once they appear, like a seed, they grow, fed by your very own brain, greedily growing into the enormous disaster you know is waiting for you round every corner. And it’s not just the worry of the event, or the consequences, it’s the physical effect they have on you! The dreaded panic attack, the cold sweats or the hot flush, the shaky hand, the difficulty in listening or speaking or even thinking straight. How can you think about anything while your entire brain is consumed with dealing with the by now in process disaster that is befalling you.

I couldn’t really say how many of these incidents I have been through in my life, far too many to count, but if I pulled them altogether I think it would tell not only a lot about me, but also about my life. So, I’m going to try and pretend I can laugh off these worries, like I always pretend to and take a light hearted look at a few from the past, to make not so much an autobiography but more of a worryography.

I hope this turns out alright…….