Karma at 30,000 feet
Flying back from Paris on Air France last weekend, I’d tuned the little video screen in the seat-back before me to the “Your Flight” map. The icon of the airplane slipped over the United Kingdom, the Atlantic Ocean, Greenland, into Canada.
Katy nudged me about 10 hours in and said, “Um, sweetie…?”
“I know. I see it.”
The airplane icon was zooming into U.S. airspace and was headed directly over Helena, Montana.
I’d been working on the sequel to “Crashers” just two days before the vacation. Katy kissed me on the cheek. “Love, didn’t you just crash some airplanes into Helena?”
“Yes. Yes, I did.”
“Ah. So our flying over Helena would be…?”
“Really bad karma?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “That’s what I thought, too.”
We both exhaled as the Airbus sailed, safely, into Idaho airspace.