Diane and I were married less than a week before Christmas and planned a wonderfully romantic honeymoon at a bed and breakfast in Vermont. We were set to fly out of Milwaukee the next morning; a Sunday.
This was, of course, long before the days of the TSA, so family and friends met us at the airport to send us off and wish us well. We were filled with excitement as we boarded the plane; first for a short hop to Chicago then off to Burlington.
It was the perfect start to a perfect honeymoon!
Almost...
Diane and I had never flown together before. We had both flown before; just not ever as a couple. I had gone through a period in my life when I flew a lot. Way too much, in fact. The excitement of flying had long ago worn off and was, by that time, merely a drudgery to be endured to get to a destination. Diane, on the other hand, had not flown nearly as much and was a bit more timid about the prospect of being locked into a metal tube hurling through the air at hundreds of miles per hour.
The first leg of our flight was made even worse by the fact that we were in a small turboprop. A puddle jumper. It was certainly a sufficient aircraft for a flight lasting, from wheels up to wheels down, about ten minutes. We strapped into our seats; ready to begin our journey.
I, being the oh-so-observant husband, glanced over at my beautiful bride as we taxied toward the runway; only to see her with a white knuckle death grip on the seat arms.
Now keep in mind that we had been married for a grand total of maybe twenty hours by this time. So I did what every new husband would do; I questioned her.
"What's the matter, honey?"
Diane's response of, "I just don't know how these things stay in the air," while contextually accurate, was probably not the way to phrase it to her geeky new husband. So I did what every geeky new husband would do. (Notice, I didn't say I did what every new husband would do; only the geeky ones.)
Did I throw my arm around her and reassure her that everything was fine?
No!
Did I offer gentle words to allay her fears?
Of course not!
I reached into my pocket to retrieve my ever-present pen (one should never be without a mechanical pen and pencil in their pocket, you know) so I could explain to her - in scientific detail - the physics behind how an aircraft stays in the air. I carefully drew an airfoil and began the explanation of how Bernoulli's Principle applies to flight; drawing individual air molecules passing above and below the wing. I explained how the shape of the airfoil generates lift and, when enough air is moving fast enough over the airfoil, the lift overcomes gravity and the plane is, basically, sucked into the air; supported by a cushion of air under the wing.
I assumed that this scientific explanation of the physics of flight would completely reassure her.
I assumed that this scientific explanation would give her great comfort.
I was well into my reassuring explanation when I happened to glance over at my lovely bride and came to the realization that she really didn't care how the plane stayed in the air - despite the fact that that is exactly what she had indicated to me - she just wanted some comfort from her man.
It was probably at that moment that I realized that I would never in a million years understand women. I'm sure it was also at that exact moment that Diane realized exactly what kind of geek she had married.
After twenty-five years of wedded bliss; I'm no closer to understanding women and Diane's still married to no less of a geek.
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