Go Placidly Amid The Noise And Haste
I've always been convinced that I'm going to die in a plane crash. I think it's a case of probability, of the idea that I'll only be able to take a certain number of flights before my luck runs out. I tend to think of flying in terms of those customer loyalty programs you get at coffee shops and sandwich places, where they stamp your card for the first nineteen Moccachinos you buy and then give you the twentieth one for free. I've taken countless, countless plane journeys over the last 26 years. I'm always wondering how many times my card has been stamped.