Mile High Club

I can be found at 30,000 feet often, even when my feet are at sea level. It seems I am regularly on a flight popping here or there for work or pleasure.

Though getting to and from on both ends and dealing with the general chaos in many airports can be soul destroying, I still find something romantic about air travel. It is the result of watching many black and white movies as a child; beautiful characters with highly stylized lives jetting off to exotic destinations.

Many people find flying subtly erotic: the aerodynamic design of the plane, the evocative olfactory stimulation of aircraft scents, the crisp uniforms, the handsome crew, the power of the take off thrust as it vibrates through your body…

Often making eye contact with strangers on flights can be provocative. Where are they from? Where are they going? What is their story? Why are they looking at me like that?

I have had a few opportunities in my travels to join the mile high club. Mostly on long-haul overseas flights involving alcoholically charged flirting. I have always been in serious relationships and have politely declined.

I am assured by others that are in the know the club is going stronger than ever, especially with the design of modern aircraft and the general decline of public morality. It is a badge of honour.

Though the intrigue of this activity is fascinating, I am really quite uninterested. I have my own mile high club. I am the only member.

My travel these days is mostly short flights during the day. At 30,000 feet, the sun is always shining. The sky is always angel blue, like in Botticelli paintings.

In the voluminous clouds, I especially like the cotton candy variety; I am transported to a deep meditative space. I read, write, create, plan, meditate, nap, and dream.

On night flights, it is straight to business. Cashmere socks and eye mask and I’m off with the angels. I rarely speak to anyone.

It is both a productive and reflective down time with myself. I am at peace. It is the calm between the cacophonies. I can think clearly. It is often energizing.

It puts a smile on my face.

I do have my moments of human weakness though, especially on early morning flights when I am hungover and on my own. I arrive in my seat, shut my eyes and start fantasizing about Mrs. BB prior to the stewardess’s passenger seat belt check.

It puts a bulge in my trousers, and a smile on my face.

Beaverboosh