Air travel in years past meant an exciting adventure that began with the departure. It used to be that family and friends who gathered for the occasion waved off passengers as they entered the plane. Now that has all changed.
Air travel has become akin to sheep shearing time on the farm. Outbound travelers are literally kicked to the curb under the ever-present scrutiny of local airport police who mark the seconds a car is parked curbside, as passengers jump out to grab their gear. With barely a moment for a hug goodbye, travelers dodge incoming aggressive drivers while trying to make it to the sidewalk intact.
Next-the confusing herding process, beginning with the boarding pass ritual. Unless you are a frequent flyer, knowing how to navigate the check-in process can be overwhelming--especially for the elderly who may be unfamiliar with computer kiosk manipulations. After a 45-minute wait in a long line of luggage-toting passengers, finally making it to the front of the line, only to be directed to a self-help machine was upsetting and confusing. If the woman behind the counter can stand their watching me struggle with the machine (because I forgot my reading glasses and couldn't read the instructions), couldn't she just offer to print out my boarding pass instead?
After that, another long line to negotiate as the clock ticks, and anxious people hurry up and wait their turn in the TSA line. The fun really began as the people ahead frantically began stripping off clothes, shoes, watches, and emptying pockets into gray bins. It is at this point that travel begins to feel similar to a public flogging, as we all-- one after another-strip and bare our most intimate parts to the seedy viewing of TSA officials.
Once through the invasive x-ray machine, passengers then hope the items they brought with them will pass without further scrutiny, and the bells won't go off, otherwise they are further delayed and humiliated with the pat down and wand. I was unfortunately pulled aside. It probably had something to do with the bags under my eyes caused from a lack of sleep after waking in the middle of the night to be at the airport for the only available flight out. I must have had that "suspicious look" about me.
Inside the terminal looking at the monitor for my gate left me hoping, and praying it wasn't in the next county as I realized my plane was about to board. Rarely of course is this the case, and the tension I felt in my hamstring as I raced for the plane began to ache. Once at the gate, I saw the plane still boarding, and realized that the only food I would get for the next five hours would be a little salty bag of pretzels.
I spied a news counter that offered $10 bags of beef jerky, and $4 bottles of water. As I lay these on the counter, I recalled the steak dinner the night before that cost about the same. The final boarding call incoherently came over the loud speaker, and I made it just in time to my assigned seat sandwiched between a sumo wrestler, and a first-time mother with a very unhappy infant. Unfortunately there was no room under my seat for my carry-on. I excuse myself to find a bin.
Trying to fit my one small carry-on into a cramped overhead bin 20 seats away, I finally made it back to my seat and belted in. As I stared at the seat in front of me, and winced as a six year old jammed the seat into my knees, I realize it's going to be a long flight. It is at this point I am rethinking flying. Next time I think I may take the train.
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