The several postings having to do with fear of flying put me in mind of a cousin who took his first flight to America in 1990. Not to put too fine a tooth on it, he was petrefied. He barely moved for the entire flight, but when the coast of North America came into view he leaned over for a better look. The plane banked just at that moment and he was convinced that he had caused it. He snapped back to attention and stayed there, rigid as a post. Jack Langton