A Delicate Balance
This one time, about an hour out of Memphis, for no discernible reason, there
was a loud clap and the left wing of the plane just plain dropped. The plane
started to do a kind of barrel roll and the ground appeared more or
less below us out of the left window. The pilot must have then put down his gameboy and spun the aircraft equivalent of the wheel hard in the
other direction. Sure enough, we rolled the other way, further this time. Then the plane
started to drop like the planet's best roller coaster. There was complete silence quickly followed by
a jumble of mutterings as people commended their non-mortal portions to
Yahweh (exclusive OR) wine-dark Zeus (et al.).
After a full silent minute, the pilot came on and gave us some eyewash
in a anodyne baritone about encountering some turbulence.
I thought then, and I think
now, that it was more likely
a problem with the delicate weight balance between the micro-bags of
peanuts on the left side and the fluffy mini-pillows on the right side.
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