One of the best things about being stuck in a plane for 14 hours is that it gives you time to think. And clean out your inbox.
I remember when Dave used to work with me, he would just cringe every time I went away. Too much time on my own, perhaps the odd glass of wine or 10 and a lack of oxygen gave me the impetus to write a gazillion emails and then fire them off to him when I reached a wi-fi connection at the other end.
He was always good natured about it. But I reckon he used to think “what a pain in the arse he is”.
You know those stories you hear where exciting things have happened to people when they’ve flown long haul - well, I don’t think they’re true. Jessica Alba has never been on any plane I’ve been on. I’ve never had anyone remotely gorgeous sit next to me (and if they did, they promptly moved), and nothing even anywhere near terrifying has happened, apart from getting into a fight with a drunk Russian on a Qantas flight from Singapore one day.
Oh, I nearly forgot.
There was a time when our son was only a baby and I had to take him to the bathroom to change his nappy. How on earth you’re supposed to perform a task like that in a toilet the size of a shoebox is beyond me. This one had one of those folding tables in it. How hard can it be - I thought.
So, I put him on the table, removed the nappy (this was only the 3rd nappy I had ever changed mind you) and then, much to my horror, a piece of poo fell out and started rolling around the place. The little prick started giggling. I started to panic and wave my arms. But no one could see. I then started yelling loudly. But no one came and my wife was in a coma, out cold, safely back in her seat.
So I pushed the button. The one you’re supposed to push if the toilet explodes or your kidneys get sucked down the toilet bowl after you flush it.
What else was I supposed to do? Touch it? Pick it up? No way.
All of a sudden, there were 3 flying mattresses knocking on the door, thinking something dreadful had happened. Which it had, if you asked me.
Son was still laughing, only because he was now naked from the waist down and he could see I was clearly in a state of panic. I opened the door and at the same time, screamed for assistance.
Suffice to say, I was not met with the most sympathetic of audiences. My wife to this day, still cannot believe it happened. It is probably one of the reasons that after 10 years of marriage she still uses her maiden name.
Anyway. Back to plane travel. And a lack of exciting things happening. Not once have I ever been on an action packed flight.
No massive clear air turbulence. No wing falling off. Nothing bursting into flames. No air marshall running down the aisle, gun drawn and yelling for assistance. And I’ve flown a shitload. Easily 3 million miles. No worries.
I suppose I should be grateful.
So this post was written at 32,000 feet. While I was sober. And semi-awake. With complete tranquility onboard.
I decided to put a link to all the great content I’ve collected over the past 12-months. Some of it has to do with the web. And some not.
Like the session with Seth late last year. Like this piece on how to be creative from Hugh McLeod.
Or like this manifesto written by the legendary Tom Peters.
We all suffer from information overload. The web has seen to that. And Google has made sure of it.
But it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t share it. What a great reason to start a blog (if you don’t have one already).
We’re all sitting on great content - its on our hard drives. Time to set it free and then move on.
And as the saying goes - I’ve shown you mine. Now it’s time to show me yours.