Fear of flying

It was not until I was 15 that i actually found myself inside a plane that was about ready to take off. One part of my brain was excited - I was leaving prison -the oppressive Motherland . Forever! However the other part of the brain was detached enough to register surprise and disappointment that I was obviously scared shitless. The flight was out of St.Petersburg, my hometown. The airline Aeroflot, what else?
I knew that the wings and engines of Aeroflot passenger jets had tendency to form large cracks and fall off! Whether it was this knowledge , or the shock of how flimsy the whole thing was, or the feeling of lack of control, or the appalling quality of the in-flight "catering" - Aeroflot girls not only looked like Joseph Stalin, moustaches and all, but they treated us passengers who were mainly Jews getting the fuck out of Russia as if we were enemies of the people on our way to Gulag...
Or may be it was the fact that I had no Idea what awaited me on the "other side" , I shall never know, but something snapped and I found myself enrolled as a lifetime member of the we-are-all-doomed flying phobics. I know that i am in a good company, cuz most of my neurotic friends favor the comatoze approach to flying ; usually a mixture of vodka and valium. Not me. I need to be fully awake in case we might have to disembark in the middle of ocean and the impaired senses will thwart my intention of being the first one down the inflatable ramp!
When it's time for dinner I never fail to wonder "Should my final meal in this world be the chicken or the beef?"
But anyway, the fear has never really interfered with my life or love of traveling. Each flight I take, though, I always monitor my progress. Yup, still scared shitless. I know that to show my almost total control of phobia, I will have to take Aeroflot back to Russia - I have never been back! But that's where I draw the line.