Flying on April 13th

So today I'm going to be flying down to California to see one of my best friends.

Flying.

On Friday the 13th.

Now, I'm not highly superstitious. Normally, however, I also prefer not to tempt fate. While I've had a reasonable share of good luck in my life, I've also had quite a bit of bad luck.

I'm not really fond of flying. Yes, flying a commercial widebody is the safest form of transportation in the history of the world. Only one in 2 millions takeoffs results in a major problem. On the other hand, I knew hundreds of things that could bring down an airplane even before I joined Boeing.

I think the thing that bothers me the most is the utter pointlessness of airport security. "Aha! You have a bottle of water! Confiscate this immediately! And pull over that 80-year old woman in the wheelchair for an additional search. Oh? You want to ship air cargo? Oh, just stick it on the plane, I'm sure its fine." The FAA has a "Red Team" that tests security by trying to slip firearms and explosives through. They are successful over 90% of the time. Clearly, the TSA is too busy taking my sunscreen and toothpaste to worry about a mere semi-automatic pistol.