I don't believe I've ever mentioned this on The Big Reason, but to those who know me personally, it's no secret that I hate to fly. I would venture to say that I probably hate it more than most people do. I detest every last thing about it with every fiber of my being. I would have to say that the thing I hate most is the ungodly force of terror that gores its way through my body as a result of being blasted through the sky at such an unreasonable altitude.

My fear is not unfounded. I've flown plenty. I've even been to Europe a few times. While I could point out one or two experiences that stand out as being more memorably terrifying than others, comparing fear at this degree is like comparing subtle variances in similar flavors of vomit.

I've successfully made it 7 years without having to board a plane. I haven't even set foot in an airport since 9/11, but in two days, I fly to Seattle. This morning I find myself sleepless with worry, and writing about the nagging two-day escalation of terror I had forgotten about. I suppose it only makes sense that the human body needs a reasonable amount of time to fill every nook and cranny of my psyche with enough fear to drown my animal sense of self preservation.

Can we build a real fucking train already?