My best friend’s little brother is a commercial airline pilot, and I am obsessed with this fact. I am a very nervous flyer, I have no desire ever to fly an airplane myself, and, overall, I have fairly little interest in the romance of human flight, whether it’s between regional hubs in the Southeast United States or between the Earth and the Moon. But the airline industry is fascinating to me. Its occult secrecy, the sheer workaday ordinariness of a job that involves lifting humans into the heavens, the strange stoicism that seems to be common among the pilots you observe wheeling their little suitcases through the airport.
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