Hallelujah, Sister

I hate flying. Especially in dingy little airplanes. You know the ones I'm talking about. Those tiny twin engine twenty-seaters that flop around periliously like a trembling leaf everytime they take to the air, churning up the contents of your venter in the process. It's enough to make anyone qeausy, not least of all someone with chronic travelling sickness.

Flying aboard one such aircraft on a recent trip, I was trying hard to hold back nausea. I sat very straight with my hands folded on my lap, and threw my head back just a little. A while later, the lady on the adjoining seat nudged me. "Excuse me, sir. Are you praying?" "No, no" I replied, a bit startled. "I'm just trying very hard not to throw up. It's easy to see why you would confuse the two though".

I didn't say the last bit, of course. Maybe, I should have. Or maybe, if real life was like the internet, I should have redirected her to this Jon Stewart clip on the power of prayer.

[Link courtesy Yoism]