Where the Rubber Meets the Road

“Ladies and gentlemen, at this time our Captain requests that all tray tables and seat backs are returned to their upright position as we prepare for landing, we will be on the ground shortly”

As a frequent flyer, I cannot tell you the number of times I have perked up and craned my neck when I’ve heard that announcement, especially the “we will be on the ground shortly”, part.

I must admit however that each time I hear the proverbial “we will be on the ground shortly”, line I cringe a little inside, because my mind immediately conjures up the YouTube compilation videos, I’ve watched of the “worst airplane crashes ever.” For some peculiar reason it seems like I often watch plane crash videos around the time that I am actually going to be flying? One might suspect that I had a death wish of sorts.

My brain by some means just goes to that file by default, and I find myself quickly Wim Hoffing my way back to present time!

On one occasion specifically, I recall sitting on the tarmac. Well, in my assigned seat on the plane of course. The window shade was down, so I reached over to lift it so that I could peer out and get a glimpse of the activity taking place just below. There was a modification that needed to be made to this particular aircraft that triggered a delay in our departure.

As I looked outward, straightaway my attention was drawn to an aircraft that was just about to touchdown. In virtually slow-motion, and seemingly all the sound around me diminishing, my eyes zoomed in on the landing gear as my focus deliberately magnified the shot.

Like a professional videographer I followed those shiny black wheels until they   completed their assignment of getting in touch with the ground, literally. And there, in that instant did the “we’ll be on the ground shortly, reveal itself right before my very eyes! My very next thought was, “the rubber has met the road”. Now there’s a phrase I’ve heard all my life, but never had it taken on the energy and frequency as it did that day. I witnessed, approximately one-hundred and fifty tons of steel be carried safely to the ground!

I’m not a physicist by any stretch, but it doesn’t take a middle heavyweight to conceive the notion of the amount of impact that takes place when those wheels kiss the tarmac! It is mindboggling to this day that this can even be accomplished in the first place!

 I have been ruminating on this imagery of a plane landing and the rubber meeting the road and imagined how this concept might apply to my life, independent of the way I may have come to define it. In other words, I would infer that a large majority of us might identify with this phrase as “this is it, we gotta shit or get off the pot”.

It invokes an overwhelming sense of urgency, and we know that we must suit up because it’s “game time”!

More times than I would like to evoke, I feel like I too am carrying one hundred and fifty tons of “cargo”. The challenges of life are quite often more than I can bear, but somehow my engines keep me airborne. With broken wings and a severed landing gear I manage to “pull up” and get over the sharp peaks, one at a time as I glance over to witness my autopilot light flashing bright red.

As the Captain, with trembling hands I reach for the mic to announce to my crew and passengers that we will be on the ground shortly. I gasp for air, wondering if this time I will be able to land this steel bird, avoiding a catastrophic event.

This is where the rubber meets the road, before the rubber meets the road. The moments right before “landing”, when you are gazing at the oxygen masks and praying that they will deploy as the cabin pressure starts dropping. You’ve been here, in this all too familiar place so many times that by now it should be sport. However, it is debilitating, crushing and callous, resulting in the feeling that your soul is exiting your mortal body.

In the midst of what have seemed like a never-ending cycle of breathtaking touchdowns, that from the naked eye, appear nothing less than impossible,

I discovered the caveat of caveats.

I will introduce him to you by a not so common name. The Paraclete! I met Him on a day, not like any other, when the skies were filled with vehement turbulence, the aircraft overloaded, a shortage of fuel, a weary crew and fatigued passengers.

As I sat on the tarmac, in my deep I knew that it was a grave mistake to move those throttles forward. The red flags of caution dancing on the windscreen of my soul and despite admonition, taking in two lungs worth of air, I commenced.

It wasn’t long before the shaking became violent, I put on my best James Dean, and dressed for the occasion I threw out the reverse gear, said two hail Mary’s and adjusted the wings on my lapel. As I sped through one particular thermal draft, everything ceased! Not a sound could be heard as I began to nosedive increasing knots as the G’s took me hostage and into what seemed like an abyss.

Precipitously, He appeared, and the light emitting was beyond terrifying. I had no understanding of what was taking place, but I was keenly aware that my face felt like a pancake as a result of the compressing force.

What was quite unusual is that there was a resounding peace. A peace that I could not comprehend. But that’s impossible evidenced in what was occurring in the natural.

Then I heard it. As a musician I had some knowledge of music. What I heard I could only describe as every note that was familiar to me, completely amalgamated, congruent, as one, if you will. A frequency like the sound of many waters. I was dumbfounded and what remains a mystery, is that I knew that sound, I heard it before, somewhere, outside of my dream state it existed and I gravitated to it then, like I was doing now.

The very next thing I encountered was the sound of a scratchy old speaker, like one that I remember from an old radio that had taken apart and peeled back a small portion of the gray paper surrounding the cone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, at this time our Captain requests that all tray tables and seat backs are returned to their upright position, as we prepare for landing, we will be on the ground shortly”

In what seemed like an instant, I heard the squeal of tires caressing the asphalt as a gush of air was released from very deep in my inner being.

The rubber had met the road and I was unscathed.

As I prepared for many future flights, I did so exhilarated, confident that the man I met one day on that harrowing flight, was actually the captain of my ship and as His copilot, I climb aboard resting assured that no matter how rocky and unstable the flight(s) might be, He alone will secure my touchdown, where the rubber meets the road.