flying solo

Stick with me on this.

I'm a pilot, and my plane is full of exceptionally valuable cargo -- recently adopted puppies or hand-altered wedding dresses or something. My job is to get them to their destination on time.

Problem is, nobody told me where to go or when to be there.

That's where my ground crew comes in. I've got one friend in the tower, keeping me from crashing into other planes. Another's on the headset, keeping me awake by telling me endlessly tangential stories. A third has made me an awesome mix to listen to while I fly. My friends in a couple have made me tuna salad for the trip. My family has given me the genetics I need to fly (good eyesight, fierce concentration, etc.) and have put me through flight school. They're even waiting at the destination to help me unload the puppies and dresses, whenever I get there.

For years I flew with a string of co-pilots. Men I brought onboard thinking I needed them keep me awake, or to make us sandwiches when we got hungry. I kept them all around so long that I began to believe that they were actually the pilot. That they knew where the hell we were going and how to get there.

But now? Now I know it's my plane. I'm driving, dammit, and we'll get there when we get there. I've got the skills and the support and enough time to figure out what I don't know. I've got other people in my life to keep me awake, give me snacks and who'll look at the map and tell me I'm in Fiji when I thought I was in Dallas.

If a fellow pilot came along, I'm pretty sure I'd let him board, but I'd have to see some ID and a boarding pass before letting them through security.