I've never really traveled much. I'm kind of a home and family kind of guy. Being home and on familiar territory where I know where my things are, what the quickest way to the store is, where the sweet spot is in my bed, and all the other things that make home so nice, kind of makes travelling seem like more of a nuisance than anything else. When I was in college, though, I did do a fair amount of flying because my other option was to sit around in my dorm cell and wait for whatever break we were on to be over. I got to kind of enjoy flying. It was always an amusement to me to watch all the people rush around panicky about their next flight or worried about their luggage. Hurrying along was never a necessity for me because I never had a very hard deadline and therefore did not mind if I missed a flight now and then. I also didn't have to worry about luggage since everything I, as a poor collage kid owned, was in my backpack. It was virtually a no worry way to travel. In fact, the only time that I can remember actually being concerned about anything was due in full to the little commuter airport just outside of the town where I was going to school.
This little airport was classic. You walked up to the ticket counter and the guy that worked there checked you in. Then, the same guy would escort you through security and take you to the gate. It was a courteous gesture and totally unnecessary considering that there was only one gate and it was thirty feet from the ticket counter. The guy would then take you out onto the tarmac when it was time to board your plane. The only aircraft at the airport were little prop jobs used primarily for commuting to O'Hare in Chicago. With the size of the airport, the condition of the planes, and the Mom and Pop type atmosphere, one got the impression of being in a flying rental car joint.
I remember one December I was headed back to school from Christmas break. I walked out onto the tarmac in O'Hare to board my puddle hopper bound for Iowa and stopped to talk to the pilot who was standing outside of his aircraft doing his routine checks. He was staring at one of the engines with an expression that said he was either bored or annoyed or both. I smiled and asked him if there was anything wrong with the engine.
"I dunno." He shrugged and continued his checks. Nothing will instill confidence like a pilots indifference to engine performance but I boarded that flying crate anyway.
The craft was only equipped to seat about twelve people so finding my assigned seat was a quick process. I should say, rather, that finding the place I was assigned to sit was a quick process because where my actual seat was supposed to be was a clean spot on the carpet with four bolts sticking out of the floor. I called over the flight attendant and pointed out the possible safety shortcomings of simply sitting on the floor with my legs stretched out in front of me. After a few moments of "hmmm"s and "ummm"s the attendant worked through her bewilderment and sat me in the seat directly behind the clean spot on the carpet.
"Oh, well," I thought "I've now, in any case, got leg room". I just hoped that whatever happened to the missing seat did not happen to the one I was sitting in, particularly not while I was sitting in it.
The seat next to me was then filled by a large black lady with a gargantuan hat covered with paper flowers. By the lady's demeanor and nervous activity I could already tell she was going to be a captivating companion for a windy, wintry flight. She absolved all doubt for me when she looked over wide eyed at me and disclosed that she was absolutely terrified of flying and her Xanax was not kicking in at all. Oh, goody. Then she popped some antacid and started fidgeting.
"Well, it's a short flight. We won't be in the air for long" I said to her by way of reassurance. She squeezed a smile out at me and I wished that someone would reassure me.
As the plane began to taxi up the runway, I started to snicker to myself because the plane was rattling and bumping like it had square wheels and the vibrations were making the paper flowers on the lady's hat next to me brush and whisper together and her fat cheeks were jiggling as she hummed and moaned with anxiety. Shortly, my mirth was interrupted by a stabbing pain in my arm. The lady had reached over and apparently was trying to perforate my arm with her long fake nails. Once we were in the air she relaxed a little and I was able to assess my wounds.
Most of the rattling ceased, once airborne, but for one rattle that was visibly annoying to the only flight attendant. She was looking over and around her seat trying to determine the source. It appeared that she found the source because she got up, opened a cabinet and took out a napkin which she folded into a little square and then jammed the napkin into the door to the plane. One of the louder rattles stopped. Now, I am not an aeronautical engineer, but in my mind it would seem that if a craft is so rickety that stuffing a napkin in the door is considered a fix, then perhaps the plane is not quite as air worthy as it used to be. Besides, this sent the lady next to me into fannings and conniptions like those oft witnessed in a black Pentecostal church in the South.
Like I had told the lady next to me earlier, it was a short flight and before we knew it we were descending on the Mom and Pop rent-a-plane airport. The weather was typical for a mid-west winter with blowing snow and ice over everything. We touched down and discovered that the guy that worked at the airport had not deiced the runway. We were on the ground for only an instant when the plane slid on the ice and turned ninety degrees to the runway and began sliding along. I was transfixed as I looked out my window straight down the runway expecting us to cartwheel at any moment. The sound was awful with screeching and rapid pounding but eventually the lady with the hat ran out of air and energy and the plane slid to a stop in front of Mom and Pop's. The plane's passengers let out a synchronized sigh and we began to deplane.
I still enjoy flying when I get the chance and I do like to see places I've never been but I think I will spend most of my time staying around home. My home doesn't slide around on the ice or try to claw my arm off.
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