Not Gonna Do It
I was going to write a column this week about all the recent airplane crashes.
Like the one Sunday that killed 157 people aboard Ethiopian Airlines Flight 302.
Or the Oct. 29 Lion Air Indonesian plane crash that killed all 189 passengers and crew members.
But I changed my mind.
Because I’m flying to Las Vegas less than two weeks from now.
It’s a long nonstop flight—about five hours or so—from Tampa to Las Vegas.
That’s a lot of time for 175,000 pounds of metal to be up in the air.
More than 35,000 feet above the earth.
Packed like a sardine can with irritable and irritating people.
With me being one of those sardines.
Nobody really knows what the chances are of dying in a plane crash. Some reports say one in 11 million, some say one in 25 million, and some say one in 100 million.
They all sound good unless you are that one person in the different millions. Somebody has to be.
The chances of winning a national lottery are one in 175 million. And millions of people buy lottery tickets, thinking, “Hey, I could be that lucky one.”
Yes, and you could also be the unlucky one who wins the airplane crash lottery. Actually, the odds are better that will happen.
Which is why I’m not writing a column this week about airplane crashes.
