It's Not Easy Being Queasy.

Ever feel like you too often take a ‘pass’ when invited into circumstances that are unfamiliar and out of your normal scope? I sometimes do.

Sure, I’ll talk to most any stranger on an elevator. Trying a new restaurant is three shades of heaven in my book. And brainstorming gets me high.

But if you ask me, spur-of-the-moment style, to do something really unfamiliar – especially something I think I might not be good at – I'm prone to over-thinking the opportunity. Missing the boat and regretting it. Sigh. Gross.

In the last year, I've made it a goal to take on new experiences with a more open heart, and worry less about the 'grade' I might receive.

I've hosted monthly brunches at my house. 

I've acquired an appreciation for very good whiskey. 

I've regularly attended concerts of bands that don’t yet have Greatest Hits albums.

Basically, I'm becoming much more ok with the possibility of breaking a few things and/or making a fool of myself. I’m learning this approach is perhaps the soil of little miracles.

Which explains how I awoke this past Sunday morning with no idea of adventure on the brain, yet that afternoon found myself scrambling into a B-17 bomber for the ride of my life.

My brother, who had sometime ago planned a WWII retrospective flight adventure with friends, had something come up. 

He generously offered to allow me to take his spot on the plane.

My first reaction? “Um, nooo, but thank you so much.” I said it softly, wimp-o-matically.

Then he told me a bit about the plane's history, and, miraculously, “YES!” came out of my mouth. 

Sidebar: My paternal grandfather once told me that the most important word you’ll ever speak is “no.” He was a great man in many ways, but never would have understood Eat, Pray, Love, I am telling you now.

Our group approached the plane outside the Frontiers of Flight Museum a little after 5pm on Sunday afternoon. We clamored and (literally) climbed aboard - no jet way! no stairs! adventure! - found seats and strapped in. The seat belts were so cool - hook and latch, with wide cotton webbing soft from decades of wear.

The monstrous, rhythmic sounds of the B-17 are terrific. These bombers have near zero insulation, and metal walls. You feel and hear everything! Awesome.

During flight, I walked around and peered out the open windows, looking over the city. Sure, I honestly needed the breeze to help ensure that, as the only female on the flight, I didn't throw up due to intense turbulence. (I have my pride!) The moments of wind in my hair felt very 'industrial romantic,' and slightly Titanic, nonetheless. ; )

Panels of gauges and switches, labeled with terms like 'Master Armament' and 'Tank Bomb Bay,' surrounded me where I was seated, directly behind and below the pilots. Fascinating.

I dropped down from the main floor into the front belly of the plane, and then crawled along a polished wood plank to get to the huge, globe-shaped window at the nose. I ran my hand lightly along the back of the small, cotton-covered chair that once belonged to the gunner in that spot. The two enormous machine guns he manned were still loaded. G is for Goosebumps.

From lift off to touchdown, I was filled with epiphanies of gratefulness for the courage and stamina of soldiers I’ve never met.


My B-17 adventure reminded me to continue saying "yes" to unexpected, spur-of-the-moment opportunities. And to not become overwhelmed with any 'motion sickness' (fear? self-doubt?) that might occur in the process. Keep your eyes open, keep appreciating, walk around, take deep breaths. 


Life is short! Kiss it on the mouth!

Love,

-Melinda