I remember the first time I flew

"Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return." ? Leonardo da Vinci

I remember the first time I flew. It was in a rickety Cessna 206 Skywagon plane bound for the Mara. Not even the amazing scenery could hold my heart still as the four seater plane seemed powerless against the breath of Mother Nature who effortlessly blew about the contraption like a feather. Imagine a pebble in a sealed can being shaken-that is how I felt. Despite the circumstance, however, my ego that stretches to Timbuktu wouldn't allow me to show any signs of distress. Even as my palms built a cold clammy wet, I still acted macho and put on my confident poker face. This is the same matador face I put on to ease me through uncertain situations like when I was first presented with difficult dishes-artichokes, escargots, and sushi- to tackle; the same face I put on when as I drove onto the highway on the very first day I was behind a vehicle's steering wheel; and yes, the same face when The crush unexpectedly agreed to my advances.