It’s funny. I don’t travel for work often, but there appears to be common threads to those instances. Perhaps it’s the destinations, employers sending me, what have you, but the “adventure” is lost on this casual traveler.
It doesn’t always go like that, but any excitement about a trip seems to have been snake bitten.
One thing that jumps out at me is the plane. Despite modern advances, improvements in technology, and the like, I am consistently on a vehicle that most likely has Wrong Way Feldman in the captain’s chair. If that reference escapes you, think of a flying hoopty. If that reference escapes you, google it. And if that reference escapes you, get out more. And today wasn’t really different, with my being placed on the United version of a minvan. Some of these folks are crafty. Most airlines charge to check bags these days, but some of these folks brought large bags only to surrender them on the jetway, beating the charge. It gives one pause, but not on that jetway, a rickety looking structure ever there was.
The whole morning surrounding the pretty short flight time is a great festival of people watching, starting as the folks assemble in Buffalo. The airport wi-fi got interrupted momentarily and one goof who was plugged into the charging tour acted like his world collapsed, personifying the spoiled brat in Louis C.K.’s “Everything is amazing and nobody’s happy.”
I arrived in baggage claim at the same time my bag did, not bad considering it got a ride.
Anyway, here I sit at 32000 feet with the jamoke behind me kicking my chair repeatedly as I stare out the window waiting for the clouds over Michigan to break up so we can see what kind of day it actually is here in the central time zone. The captain was good enough to trace the route for us. “We’ll be flying over London, Ontario, down along the lakes, into Michigan, and finally into Chicago land.” While that was nice to know, it didn’t mean anything as there was no discernible difference from the canadian clouds to the michigan clouds to the Illinois clouds (Except those were an hour later). So, you couldn’t see much, dig?
I was actually disappointed to see no sky mall catalog in my seatback, but given how old the plane is, it would all have to be in black and white.
But it gives one pause. The folks at the terminal outward bound were downright pleasant, security was a breeze. If your only downside in the arrival point is that I knew where I was going better than the cab driver, that’s doing okay.
“I’m sorry, Sir, I can seem to find it”
As he was parked under the sign of my destination.