Since 9/11, airports and flying has become a guaranteed source of pain for most people. Who enjoys having their lives reduced to a quart-size plastic bag and having their dignity stolen by a buxom and onery TSA attendent? I may be the last holdout at the Alamo, but I still think airports and flying holds a certain thrill.
The only other man-made structure that can rival an airport for the range and magnitude of emotions that it houses is a hospital. While an airport doesn't usher in life and death, it is the current gateway for immigration and emigration, which from experience generally makes people a hot mess.
When the plane finally reaches its cruising altitude of 36,000 ft, on a clear day, you can see a whisper of the curvature of the Earth from your window. I don't know if this makes me feel very big or very small; if it makes man very insignificant or very magnificent, but it certainly is pretty.
It's true that airports bring out the worst in people, but more often than not, I've witnessed incredible forbearance, stamina and generosity in the waylaid traveler. Consider your average wait time for a flight from checking in to security to taxi-ing on the runway; think of the number of times you have to dig out your ID and boarding pass; think of the weight that you have to carry around while terminal hopping, and then think: do you put up with anything close to that during a typical day? I've seen the biggest egomaniac MDs wait politely and pleasantly as security officers chats about last nights game. Tell me that isn't bringing the best out of people?
Lastly, while I love traisping off to exciting places, nothing beats the feeling when those tires touches the tarmac at JFK and you know from this point forward, it's home field advantage again bitch.
The only other man-made structure that can rival an airport for the range and magnitude of emotions that it houses is a hospital. While an airport doesn't usher in life and death, it is the current gateway for immigration and emigration, which from experience generally makes people a hot mess.
When the plane finally reaches its cruising altitude of 36,000 ft, on a clear day, you can see a whisper of the curvature of the Earth from your window. I don't know if this makes me feel very big or very small; if it makes man very insignificant or very magnificent, but it certainly is pretty.
It's true that airports bring out the worst in people, but more often than not, I've witnessed incredible forbearance, stamina and generosity in the waylaid traveler. Consider your average wait time for a flight from checking in to security to taxi-ing on the runway; think of the number of times you have to dig out your ID and boarding pass; think of the weight that you have to carry around while terminal hopping, and then think: do you put up with anything close to that during a typical day? I've seen the biggest egomaniac MDs wait politely and pleasantly as security officers chats about last nights game. Tell me that isn't bringing the best out of people?
Lastly, while I love traisping off to exciting places, nothing beats the feeling when those tires touches the tarmac at JFK and you know from this point forward, it's home field advantage again bitch.
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