Friday, November 20, 1998
Not so fearless
The media plant seeds of fear, along with almost every other
phobia, in the public
Oh man, here I am again. This really is a cruel, cruel world.
And as I sit here strapped into this chair of torment, I am about
to take you all along with me on a voyage through my own personal
hell. But this isn’t a car chase or a holdup. And all right, I’m
not even going to the dentist or to the Department of Motor
Vehicles. Nope, I am taking a Southwest flight from San Jose to
LAX.
Oooh … be still your beating heart, right? I know, I know, it
doesn’t seem very exciting, but bear with me, because I have
actually got a selfish motive for bringing you along. You see, I am
absolutely terrified of flying! And I especially hate flying alone.
So I guess the truth is: I need you. I really don’t want to go
through this all by myself. And frankly, if we happen to go down, I
want someone with me who I can share my last words with as we
plummet to the earth.
Oh God, that’s morbid. Did I just jinx myself in a really bad
way? I really hope not.
So here I am sitting right over the wing as usual, since I’ve
heard that this is the safest place to be in the event of a crash,
and I am sitting in row … oh great, good job Catie. I am sitting
in Row 13.
Damn, and now it is too late to move.
But I’ll be all right, as long as I know where the exits are and
how many small children are on the plane. Yes, I said small
children. It is my theory that there is a direct correlation
between the number of young children on a plane and the likelihood
of whether or not that plane will crash. Through my spiritual
perception of the world, I have come to believe that there is some
entity out there that determines destiny. And I just don’t think
that any higher power would willingly send a plane full of toddlers
plunging through the sky in a fiery 737 inferno.
You see, I wasn’t always afraid of flying. I have been flying
regularly since I was 6 months old. But then, when I was 14 years
old, I made the mistake of watching this movie "Fearless" about a
plane crash.
Have you seen it? Well, don’t. Let’s just say the title
represents the most patent example of false advertising I have ever
personally come across. They should have called it something like
"Two hours that will leave you in a state of absolutely
panic-stricken terror every time you so much as see the freeway
exit for an airport."
And those TV specials don’t help either, you know the ones: they
always follow somewhere along the line of "Hello, this is Jack
Daniels and I will be your flight for the duration of this pilot"
and "When planes incinerate: Part 3."
I really do blame the media for my neurotic paranoia, because I
am sure that this world has always been a violent and painful
place. But now we have to hear about it and watch it happening all
over the world, every time we turn on the television. Why do you
think I have convinced myself that a plane full of babies stands no
chance of crashing? Because, in all of the movies and specials I
have ever seen about plane crashes, there never seems to be any
children on the plane. Hey if it doesn’t exist in television, it
doesn’t exist, right?
Talk about the all-pervasive power of the media. But aren’t you
glad that the media only uses their special powers for the good of
humanity, you know, to fight the evil powers that be and all that
jazz. Yeah, right. Haven’t you heard that endearing creed that so
many journalists today swear by: if it bleeds, it leads. I’m
telling you, one day very soon when I cannot endure this any
longer, my roommates will come home to find that I have locked
myself in my closet, cowering in the fetal position and sucking my
thumb while donning a helmet and body armor.
But the strange, twisted part is that we humans (yup, you too)
like to be disgusted and horrified. Oh yes, we are a delightful
little breed of rubberneckers. Hey, no one forced me to watch those
TV specials. (Aaah, what was that bump?) We are slowly turning into
a race of lethargic adrenaline junkies who have become determined
to live out our lives in the fast lane, without ever leaving our
couches.
I personally have not borne witness to many scary or
life-threatening events, but like every other kid who grew up in
America, I have probably watched tens of thousands of little
two-dimensional people lose life, limb and liberty. And to be
honest, flying isn’t my only phobia. I’ll admit it, I’m a wimp.
Yup, I am also scared of clowns ("It"), horses (Christopher Reeve),
driving on bridges (Channel 13 News), elevators ("Speed") and
heights (you name it).
I’ve got a whole brigade of neuroses vying to control my every
action. And I know that I am just being ridiculous, and I am really
trying to work on it. Hey, at least I stopped sleeping with the
lights on.
But really, have you ever stopped to honestly question whether
all of this technology crap is really helping us more than it is
hurting us?
In all honesty, I really don’t want to waste my time in this
world being constantly afraid of losing my life, because what kind
of life would that really be? I guess the media aren’t totally to
blame, since part of my paranoia has probably also come about as
the result of my uncertainty regarding "God."
When I was 11 years old, I decided that I was an atheist. All of
a sudden I became absolutely panic-stricken. I now had only one
chance at life, and if I wasn’t careful, at any moment it could be
stripped away from me. Then, there wouldn’t be a single trace that
I ever existed in this world, except for maybe one in the obituary
column. When there is no God, and there is no heaven, and there is
no afterlife, the stakes change considerably. There was now nothing
protecting me from death, or life, or from becoming yet another
front-page horror story for that matter.
But finally after a few years and a few experiences, which the
dogma of science and the TV Guide could not reason away, I found
something to believe in. It’s not any sort of formal belief system,
really just a spiritual connection to Mother Earth and Father Sky.
Through this, I am comfortable with the notion that all living
things are somehow connected within a continuous fiber, woven into
a web that is life, death and everything in between. Maybe I am
getting a little abstract for you, sorry. But, like I said, I am
starting to wean myself off the overpowering influence of the
media.
I am starting to understand that there was once a world entirely
independent of the hyperbolized encounters of those little
two-dimensional people. And, you know what? Somewhere out there, a
place like that probably exists. I would like to find it, wherever
it is. I just hope that I won’t have to take a plane to get
there.
OK, we’re descending now. Why do I always have to get the
sadistic pilot who likes to descend by dropping 50 feet at a time?
What is that damn noise? But we should be OK, right? I mean, how
many planes have you seen on television crash during landing? Oh,
we’re almost there. Please, please, please … touch down. Thank
you so much for your company. Now let’s get the hell off this
flying torture machine.
Katie Snow Bailard
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