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Monday, January 21, 2008
I’m in the airport, waiting for silver wings that will take me someplace where it’s warm. Coventry was 7 degrees that morning at six. 7.
The hardest part about any vacation is the beginning. Leaving Dixie. I swear that freaking dog has a sixth sense, and she KNOWS when I am going to leave her. Even when I don’t have any luggage, like this time. She knows.
She sat on the back deck this morning and watched me. Her stuffed sheep toy was in her mouth, and her little, triangular head was cocked to one side as if one of those huge ears of her’s was filled with lead. I petted her, and told her that I loved her and that she was good girl. Then, because I was feeling so guilty about leaving her, I gave her two full cans of ALPO along with her Purina One Healthy Weight Maintenance dog food. (I know. I know. But she’s not THAT much overweight. Just three pounds. My guilt for leaving her weighed one hundred times that!) Anyhow, as I drove out of the driveway, she was happily eating, and I cried. Stupid, huh? Just a dumb dog. A dumb, beautiful, loving, loyal, always-forgiving, non-judgmental, wonderful dog.
I left work about two o’clock in the afternoon and got to Bradley International Airport two hours before my flight’s departure time, just like I was told to do. I forgot that I didn’t have any luggage. Mary drove to Florida a week ago, and she took all the luggage with her. And, because I printed my ticket on-line the night before, I didn’t have to go to the ticketing counter at all. I just had to go through the security checkpoint.
Now, don’t get me wrong; I understand the reason for tight security on airplanes. Trust me. I’d rather be slightly inconvenienced on the ground than have to endure the horror of a hi-jacking in the air. But, aren’t the security measures just a little silly? You can take fluids and gels on a plane, as long as each gel and fluid doesn’t exceed, what is it?…three ounces, I think. AND all of these fluids and gels have to be inside a sandwich-sized zip-lock bag.
That’s because during one flight a while back, somebody tried to mix fluids that, by themselves, were harmless, but, when mixed, became explosive. But you know what? I’ll bet not one of those fluids was Crest Total or Polo aftershave. And what’s with putting them in a zip-lock bag? Is that supposed to be a deterrent? Do you really think Osama is going to say, “I’ve got to get it out a baggie? Forget it! Too much trouble! We’re scrapping the entire mission and calling off the jihad.†I mean, really!
A couple of years ago, some whack-job tried to ignite his sneakers, which contained some kind of explosive, while on a Trans-Atlantic flight from England to the U.S. Because of that, all airline passengers have to remove their shoes now and put them through the X-ray machine at the security checkpoints. Thank God that idiot didn’t try to set his Fruit Of The Looms ablaze instead of his sneakers!
Anyway, I got to the airport at the recommended two hours prior to departure time, and then I sat at the gate, waiting for my flight to come in for over an hour and a half.
I know that I will never live to see it, but I truly hope that my great grandchildren will never have to experience riding in an airplane. I hope that they only see Boeing 737’s in museums, and talk about the days when people actually used to ride in those things, and it took hours to get anywhere. With any luck, they’ll view Airbuses the way we view covered wagons. They’ll go to museums and see these behemoths in exhibits. They’ll actually be able to walk through them and strap themselves into the cramped seats. Maybe they’ll even have flight simulators so that they can feel the rush of take-offs, the thumps and jolts of landings, and sudden bumps and the-floor-just-dropped-out-from-under-you, roller coaster sensations we experience from air turbulence.
And our great grandchildren will marvel at our courage and the stamina that we must have had in order to endure such hardships.
Just like we marvel at the stamina and the courage that the pioneers exhibited as they endured the hardships of their covered wagon excursions. The only differences that I can see between those hearty, fearless pioneers and we modern-day air travelers are that they had to put up with Indian attacks, and they had better food.
It warms my heart to think that my great grandchildren will more than likely not have to endure in-flight movies, packets of peanuts for lunch, and five-dollar beers in order to get from one place to another. They will probably just stand in the doorjamb of their front door and teleport wherever they wish to go…in nano-seconds. Just like StarTrek.
Beam me up, Scotty.
On the other hand, poor Dixie... 
