The madness of crowds: Fearless flying

I was hungover and jittery in St Louis, and there was a blizzard raging across the Midwest. As I looked at the departures board in the airport it riffled into DELAYED, DELAYED, DELAYED . . . the only exception being the New York flight: my own. Cursing this glitch that was sending me to my doom, I tramped down the companionway, reflecting ruefully on howmy last moments on earth were to be spent noting, yet again, the bizarre habit air transport infrastructure designers have of fitting odd ver...