Leavin' on a jet plane

I love flying. I know that's not a majority opinion these days, what with the ever-increasing ticket prices, ridiculously nitpicky rules for fares, baggage, and security, and overbooked, delayed flights, but I still love it. I love getting to the gate (I'm going to skip everything before that, as I do NOT love check-in lines and security screenings; they're simply mostly-necessary evils) and settling into a little spot where I can keep an eye on my luggage and curl up with my book and maybe a cup of coffee. (Speaking of watching my luggage, who on earth came up with the baggage-security questions? "Have your bags been out of your control at any time since you packed them?" The woman in line ahead of me actually paused to think about this one once, and I wanted to slap her. The answer to this question is ALWAYS irrelevant. If it's no, you're going to say no. If it's yes, you're still going to say no, because either you have something illegal in your bag you don't want the authorities to know about, or you just happened to let your bags out of sight for a bit but you still intend to get on your flight, which might not happen if you say yes. Only idiots and children would say yes, and they shouldn't be flying alone anyway! The question is a waste of everyone's time.)

So I find my spot and camp out for an hour or more (I'm always early; I don't understand how it's possible to miss a non-connecting flight, barring emergency. Plan ahead. Don't be late. It's not hard. Except for some people it is, I guess. Oh, well. I don't understand that either.), reading, listening to music, making a couple of phone calls. I don't like to fly with my laptop - besides being bulky and a security hassle, it's the second-most expensive thing I own, and if I'm staying with friends I can always use their computers to check email - so this is pure unstructured time where I can do almost nothing productive. I can't blog or sew or research or clean or any of the other things I need to do. I can write, and sometimes I do, but since I don't bring along the unfinished projects that live on my computer, all I can work on are short, stand-alone pieces that happen to inspire me at the moment. Waiting for my plane to board is the true beginning of my vacation. (I've never traveled on business, so my perspective may be more positive than otherwise.)

Then, the actual plane ride. Boarding sucks, of course - screaming children and overpacked travelers hogging the overhead bins and those few people who invariably manage to misread their seat numbers. And then there's the droning safety lecture and interminable wait on the tarmac. Then takeoff, which is the only part that scares me. I close my eyes and chew my gum and mentally recite all the physics equations I can remember to prove to myself that this giant metal tube actually has good reasons for remaining aloft. But once we're in the air, it's like a road trip when someone else is driving: I turn up the music, snuggle into my seat (I candidly admit that being 5'2" enhances the experience of flying coach - on most airlines, I can actually curl up in my seat, especially if I have the window), open my book, and after a few minutes drift off to sleep. I'm usually woken at some point by turbulence, but as long as it's not the bounce-your-head-on-the-ceiling variety I think it's kind of fun. It feels like a roller coaster to me. Then back to sleep, or more reading until we join the landing pattern.

Landing is my favorite part. I love the ever-steeper, slower circles when you can see the city approaching below, then the bounce and catch feeling as you actually land. And then, taxiing to the terminal, I'm excited - either because I've reached my vacation destination, or because I'm home, and someone is waiting for me. Then there's multiple periods of waiting - to deplane, for baggage to reach the carousel, etc., and then I'm there, stepping out of an airport into a place with the wrong time of day and the wrong weather, and it's wonderful. Flight over.

I love flying, too, because it makes me feel important and cosmopolitan. I know that's not really the case - anyone can fly, and they do - and I know too that flying has lost a lot of its romance since the days when dress codes were strictly enforced and airplanes had onboard lounges. But I still love getting into that metal tube, speeding through the clouds, and disembarking somewhere else entirely.

So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
'Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe I hate to go...

I grew up with that song by Peter, Paul, and Mary (John Denver originally, I know), but I have to admit when it gets stuck in my head - as it always does when I'm flying somewhere - the version I see is the guys from Armageddon, Ben Affleck and Michael Clarke Duncan and Steve Buscemi, singing it to Liv Tyler who's laughing through her tears. And while I don't have time today to defend that movie, I do love that scene, and I'm not sorry it's playing in my head today. It's certainly better than the last movie clip that got stuck in my head, which happened to be the ad for Hamlet 2 ("rock me, rock me, rock me sexy Jesus").

So kiss me and smile for me; while nobody likes goodbyes, know that I don't really hate to go.

SemiGeekGirl will return Wednesday, September 3. Or possibly later if she needs to recover from her vacation.