For us Kiwis right down the bottom of the map far away from the madding crowd, flying is in our genes so, when trouble comes our way, we fly away, back to the safety of our New Zealand nest.
Here in the land of the Little English cloud Kiwis have been flying high this week.
Some have been flying under the radar like Matt McCarten, who has done a disappearing act like lost luggage at a Bangkok airport, while our two political rangatira have both flown into a kaka cloud.
One has told a tiny tito (fib) that has grown bigger than Pinocchio's nose after weighing in a whale at a fishing contest.
The other has distanced himself like a leaper from Houdini Matt, and come up with the quote of the week: "Leadership is not about arse covering . . . leadership is about responsibility and doing the right thing."
True that bro.
So what would an air hostess say to passengers when flying into turbulence - and those around you are looking for strong leadership?
Kiss your derrière goodbye, or cover it with Glad Wrap to protect it from fallout.
Kao. For my two bobs' worth of on-board advice, it would go something like this: adjust your own oxygen mask first before worrying about others'.
Good advice for the minor parties who are invading each other's air space at every opportunity.
Winston and Hone want to chuck the Chinese out and cut the head off the P serpent while the captain of the Maori Party will either settle the ship or turn on the seat belt signs when he releases the Whanau Ora report tomorrow.
His mantra could well be "Airhoa come fly with us. Travel with Flavell and fly with the Fox if you want to get to the promised land."
Some would say all political parties have as much chance of getting a smooth flight path all the way into September as a Koru card member has of getting a smooth fight into Wellington.
Locally the three iwi have spread their wings of protest at outsiders flying into their no-go zone and there have been a few political possums caught in their headlights, especially the Offices of Treaty Settlements. Not to mention the Port of Tauranga who provide vital services for many of the iwi's horticultural and farming endeavours.
The heartening fallout from this no-go flight zone is the awakening of our tamariki to Treaty politics, and now they have a runway to taxi their waka of understanding as they protest.
Kiwis have been flying high on the long white cloud of Aotearoa - none more so on the waka Aotearoa itself, zig-zagging across the Bermuda Triangle with their flying Kiwi foils.
As did the Bro Blacks who flew through and around the grounded Lions, they themselves clearly caught with excess baggage.
Now it's round two at the Cake Tin to have their wings clipped and leaving them with one foot on the plane heading home.
As for the other flying fibber on the other side of the world, one can only hope the thing on his head he calls hair flies off, and the fake truth is exposed.
If you want to take time out from the turbulence of everyday life, do what I do and shelter from the storm at Rialto Theatre, especially next week when another author who dreams of bringing a flightless bird back to its flock tells her story in the film This Beautiful Fantastic.
Surely a stand out above the many movies me and my once-a-week film fix have been treated to.
For now I will savour the simplicity of the message found at the movies and stand by for the next planeload of politicians to fly straight into turbulence and for the announcement below to become a frequent flyer across the airwaves of political departure lounges.
"Airhoa - all passengers on Flight Sept23 - this is your final boarding call."
tommykapai@gmail.com
