Friday, March 5, 2010

QF Prog Rock

I have always been an indifferent aeronaut. I put this down to the fact that my father was an aeronautical engineer working for Vickers Armstrong (later the British Aircraft Corporation). Our dinner time conversations were often about dramatic air disasters or spectacular test flights he had taken part in, most often in an aeroplane know as "The Vomit Comet".Dad's somewhat absent minded flying style as a glider pilot didn't help either. When I was a child, being a passenger was an exciting roller coaster ride, with vivid, added comentary about pilots who had frozen to death or passed out from flying too high. As an adult, I am armed with a little too much information that I would rather not have.

Two nights ago I was once again sitting in a 747, 38,000ft above the Pacific Ocean, trying to keep calm. Yes, I know all the statistics, flying is safer than driving a car or crossing the road. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I was doing pretty well too, floating along on a mixture of complementary scotch, champagne and a couple of Valium. Feeling smug about it too, as heavy weather in the Pacific meant that much of the flight had been moderately turbulent.(John denies this, but cannot be relied upon as he slept for the first nine hours of the flight.) But then around 4am, the Captain switched on the seatbelt sign and announced that we were going to go through some pretty "signifcant" turbulence. In aeronautical terms this means bumpy as hell. John (who had actually woken up at this point), claims it only rated 7/10 in his experience of turbulence, but even he stayed awake wearing a facial expression like an owl that was being given an enema. He claims this was because of the film he was watching (and incidentally one that he recommends): District Nine.

In flight entertainment was denied to me, as my seat, screen, handset and noise reduction headphones were all, to put it politely, completely cactus. What to do? Only one course of action, drag out the walkman and queue the prog rock; Jethro Tull, Supertramp and best of all, Quadrophenia by The Who.

The Who (or what's left them) were harshly criticised for their recent Superbowl performance. But Quadrophenia is a sublimely manic piece, recorded in 1973 when they were at the top of their form. And so here I was, bashing through the sky at 600mph accompanied by Roger Daltry's huge voice, John Entwistle's superfast bass, Pete Townshend's mad vision and best of all, the extreme,insane,drumming of Keith Moon. As a soundtrack to 1 hour and 16 minutes of inflight turbulence(yes, I timed it), nothing better - or to quote Pete Townshend; Getting high, you can't beat it...

My name is Sue and I hate flying

No comments: