Don’t get your hopes up, but this is probably the last column I will ever write. I am in the airport terminal waiting to board a plane that will take me to San Diego for a worthless and life-wasting journalism conference that will undoubtedly be chock full of useless workshops, criminally ugly fellow journalists and a grandiose and utterly moronic awards ceremony.

But, as bad as the convention will assuredly be, it pales in comparison to what awaits me.

Flying. The mere thought makes my sphincter pucker like I bathed in lemon juice and battery acid.

Yeah, yeah, it’s statistically the safest way to travel, but as the saying goes, “there are lies, damn lies and statistics.”

When you reduce it down to its most basic element, a passenger on an aircraft trusts his or her life with someone they have never met. It takes an incredible amount of faith – which I don’t come close to having – in order to feel at ease on an airplane.

I have done my best to develop a standard routine before boarding in order to acclimate myself to my situation.

The routine consists of, but is not limited to, willing out all my worthwhile possessions to friends and family before reaching the terminal, deliriously crying in the bathroom for a good 20 minutes prior to boarding and getting wrecked in the airport bar.

I attempt to distract myself from the scores of potential mechanical difficulties, instances of gross negligence and good old-fashioned human error that will inevitably take place on my flight by sizing up potential terrorists who may be sharing the plane with me.

Why share all of this with you? Because there is yet another reason to lament this putrid mode of transportation.

American hero, Capt. Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger, who gained fame for his miraculous splash landing of an aircraft into the Hudson River after the jet’s engines quit on him, recently ushered in a whole new era of angst and paranoia for me when it comes to flying.

Last week, Sullenberger spoke before the Subcommittee on Aviation of the House Transportation and Infrastructure Committee and raised a myriad of concerns I had never taken the time to previously consider.

Besides criticizing the business practices of airlines, such as saying the companies use their employees like “ATM machines,” Sullenberger went on to say, “It is an incredible testament to the collective character, professionalism and dedication of my colleagues in the industry that they are still able to function at such a high level.”

My smattering of loyal readers know all too well about my complete lack of confidence in the general goodness of humanity and competence of the average American worker and will not be the least bit shocked by my ability to read into his comments and envision a worst case scenario.

Although Sullenberger spoke highly of his colleagues, my mind can’t help but think that I will get the pilot who wants to do an impression of the value of his 401(k) using the airplane itself.

Sullenberger, you are an American hero, and your actions will not be soon forgotten. If I had the means to do so, I would purchase a private jet and hire you to fly it. You would have excellent pay and the best benefits and retirement package money could buy.

However, you have spawned a new era of hysteria for myself that all the Jack Daniels, Wild Turkey and Guinness in the world will not alleviate. You’re an incredibly talented pilot, and I know you didn’t intend to make me even more obsessively anxious than usual, but I will still blame you nonetheless.

Jordan Guinn can be reached at [email protected]