Mur007 has it spot on. I always thought flying was the stuff of romantic heroism; the epitome of man's timeless struggle against the last unconquered element. So when I started my PPL I sallied forth to the pub ready to hold discourse with admiring friends on my joining the brotherhood of bold aviators. To my shock and surprise, attention wandered, eyes glazed, gazes became less admiring, if not actually averted and, to put it bluntly, they were bored.
But I don't think it need be a case of divorce.
