I think it was my uncle Billy who tried to teach me how to fly.
He would get me to stand on the arm of the sofa and concentrate really hard.
He'd said, "If you concentrate really really hard you'll be a flying master in no time."
I'd jump off the arm of the sofa flapping my arms fast as I possibly could. I really believed I could fly. I believe Billy believed it too.
No amount of sweat or practice gave me any different results. I always plummeted to earth quickly. How quickly? [F = G*((m sub 1*m sub 2)/r^2)]. I think this guy Newton came up with that one.
I never mastered flying. I practiced and practiced but it never happened. I'm sure it was my fault. I wasn't trying hard enough. I couldn't flap my arms fast enough.
It's a good thing I was a kid and had limited intelligence or else I might have concluded I just needed a higher platform to launch from. Luckily I learned about that whole gravity thing before opting for increased height.
I do a fair bit of flying today. I'm not opposed to flying but IT IS a VERY unnatural act. I proved that at a young age. (see above)
Every time I get on a plane, I thoroughly expect it to require bending over, putting my head between my legs, and kissing my derriere adios. Not just every once in a while but every single time.
I'm left with two options.
Give up a lifestyle I'm very happy with (understatement) or get on the darn plane.
The former isn't really an option. It ain't gonna happen.
Therefore, I'm left with the flying thing.
For me flying is an exercise in courage and faith.
I'll work on that one. You might want to try it too.