Beating The Storm---Travel Tales

With so many stories lately about flying fatalities due to weather, fellow passengers on my recent trip from Florida to Atlanta were getting fidgety at the gate watching dark storm clouds rolling in.

Apparently they weren't the only ones as airline personal began boarding our flight early, urging everyone to move swiftly so we could take off before the storm hit. WOW,  if only travelers were this efficient at finding their seats and stowing their bags on a regular basis!

We did it, pulled away from the gate a record 20 minutes early, but alas, it was not meant to be. It wasn't weather but a pesky warning light from a clogged galley drain that made us return to the gate and wait for maintenance. By this time the storm had indeed passed.

As we sat patiently waiting for the problem to be fixed I would occasionally hear the exclamations of a young child, quickly followed by a shushing from the parent. If they only knew their constant shushing was louder and more irritating than the questions of their child. Last time I flew with a curious child it was one of the best times I've had.

Too bad the shushing parent couldn't get ahold of the loud talkers who became even louder with the roar of the engine temporarily silenced. A man and a woman forced to sit next to each other apparently felt the need to get to know each other, and in turn let the entire cabin in on their life story. In one hour I learned more about them than some co-workers I've known for ten years.

I was further enlightened in Atlanta while waiting for my connection, by a business traveler droning on and on about his $4 Chick-fil-A sandwich. His companion shocked, had he known it was only $4 he might have taken time to eat too. $10 or $12 was just way to much, but a $4 meal? Then there was the gushing over how GOOD it was for $4, real chicken you know, not a bunch of parts, and a tomato and lettuce too. The conversation was repeated nearly word for word, for a good three or four rounds.

I finally made it to my DC, grabbed a cab and half-way to my final destination noticed that like the plane, this vehicle also had a warning light on its control panel. It said check engine. I disembarked at my family's home, his car promptly died.

I've decided to walk the next few days.

Virgin Flight.....

I was commiserating with some friends recently about how flying just isn’t as fun as it used to be.

During a flight I took this week, I was particularly observant of fellow flyers, like the lady in security who put her bags on the belt then stood in front of a metal detector that was roped off. No matter how long she stood there, no one was going to open it up and let her through, but there she stood. Maybe she was hung-over?

Then the passengers in front of me (and behind), who loaded up the belt with goods to be scanned but never pushed them through, just walked away to the metal detector. Why sure, I’ll do that for you. Maybe you are hung-over too?

Then there was the wading through a throng of people who decided to wait for boarding in the busy concourse walkway, leaving barely enough room for the rest of us to pass (including the flight attendant who has carrying FOUR bags). I doubt they are ALL hung-over, just unaware perhaps.

And so was the girl waiting right by the boarding door (pictured by wardrobe only below), even though she was in zone FIVE.....the last one. 

Despite the weirdness, things were looking good during boarding. The six wheelchairs loaded with ease, there was plenty of overhead space and clean, polite passengers were seated next to me. Then I heard it …yip yip yip. The dog on this flight far outweighed the annoyance of a crying child; constant, yipping and yowling. I’m sure all of my friends reading this who fly with little dogs, have well behaved pets, or ones that are slightly drugged for relaxation.

It was so bad that the little boy behind me said rather loudly, “That dog is annoying.” He caught my ear. Usually I have ear buds in by this time but I left them behind and had been lamenting the oversight until this moment.

It was the boy’s first flight and I got a play by play, along with the rest of the plane, as his exuberant voice carried. When the flaps on the wings first moved he yelled WOAH! Then, “MOM WE’RE MOVING.” He also let us know we were turning, moving a little too slowly, and passing other planes, among other things.

While I was amused, the joy for me came in hearing his laughter, squeal and shout as we gained speed and took off. It was the best take off I’ve had in a long time, smiling laughing with every loud exclamation I heard from him.

And it continued through the flight with him questioning the “dings” heard over the intercom, asking his mom if we were going into space, if we had enough fuel, swearing he could see his house from the air and gasping when his view was suddenly erased by a bank of clouds.

Suddenly I didn’t hear the grating cries of that dog anymore, or the lady in front complaining because she would really like someone to take her middle seat so she could have an aisle (good luck sister). I actually enjoyed flying again because I saw the wonderment of it through the virgin flight of a little boy.

Thank you lil man.