Just flying around...

“What if I fall? Oh, but my darling,

what if you fly?”

- Erin Hanson, Poet

He was a little boy…so short that the top of his head was just even with the extended handle of the roller bag. His father was crouched in front of him so he could look him in the eye. The youngster was looking attentively eye-to-eye with his father.  This wasn't a 'correcting the child' situation but instead had the appearance of a conference. The man smiled, they hugged, and he stood up. The boy looked up, smiled back, and they were off.

It's been a while since I've flown. In some ways, it was intimately familiar and, at the same time, strangely alien. After nearly three and a half decades of 'long flying,’ it was odd to sit at an airport gate waiting for a flight. There was the familiar gate odor. If you have done much flying, you will recognize this. Smell is a potent memory stimulator. Unconsciously, my heart rate slightly elevated in anticipation of the impending departure. There were slight traces of jet fuel in the air adding to the excitement. There are few things I like better than flying!

Molly and I were heading to Baltimore to spend New Year’s with our niece and her family. When we head East in the Winter, the kids usually have had colds. On return, after incubating their virus for a few days, I get sick! This year I began a serious regimen of sleep, hydration, immune-strengthening vitamin C, and other stuff. Teaching about the immune system, I know other than the ‘C’ there is little you can do. And yet, like a lot of other people, I have taken a bunch of unsubstantiated, purported immune boosters…you know, just in case.

We arrived at the gate early and got comfortable – well, as much as can be expected in chairs that had housed thousands of multi-shaped bottoms during their tenure. The small counter where attendants awaited last-minute questions or requests for upgrades added to the familiarity.

Once settled in, I began a ritual that has been honed over the years of departure gate experience – people watching. I don't have an exceptional imagination, but find my mind wandering from person to person, wondering what back story brought them to this point of departure.

It is a little more difficult to gin up my fancy these days because most folks are head down with eyes glued to glowing screened electronic devices – expressionless automatons texting a friend or loved one, searching for meaning, or perhaps hoping to see something new. What did we do before when we didn’t have the constant companionship, socially isolating, electronic gadgetry? Oh yeah, we talked to one another!

There was a tired and dejected-looking young man wearing an Ohio State University tee-shirt and staring at the floor. His team was projected to win the national championship but had lost the day before in a semi-final game to Clemson (really?). He looked a little shell shocked like someone had stolen his wallet, car, and girlfriend all at once. Dejected would be an understatement. There would be no joy in Mudville (Lawrence Thayer's: Casey at the Bat), er…Columbus, Ohio. Oh, well. The sun would come up tomorrow and in spite of his apparent depression, he would recover.

Beside the boy sat a young girl, oblivious to his disappointment, wearing a William and Mary sweatshirt and staring into a screen-lit void of zero’s and one’s. At first, it appeared they were together, but when they boarded, they didn’t even look at one another. Wait – maybe they were together.

From the monotony of staring faces, I turned to the concourse. That’s where I saw the crouched man and little boy chatting with one another. Human interaction! Maybe they were planning a surprise for mom, or perhaps negotiating what they would eat. Possibly, they were discussing the boy's future as a national championship quarterback on The Ohio State University football team. Hope springs eternal.

The call came, and we boarded the flight. It would take four and a half hours from Phoenix to Baltimore. In the context of my lifetime of flying, a reasonably short hop.

I wondered who I might meet, what stories I might hear. Settling in, I said hi to the fellow sitting at the window, an empty seat away from me. I ran through my, 'will we have a conversation' list of questions*. He was an academic from New Hampshire, who didn't seem very interested in chatting. He said he was holding the middle seat for his wife – next!

When she arrived and plunked down between her husband and me, I began the list again. We chatted briefly, but it clearly wasn’t going anywhere as she glanced longingly at her computer. Across the aisle, Molly was equally unsuccessful with her seatmates and drifted into the book she was reading.

I connected my headphones and slipped into my computer silo and went to work. There would be another day and another flight.

We arrived and had a great visit with the family. The boys had grown since the last time we were in Baltimore. A family get-together on Friday brought my other niece, her 'with child' partner, and their daughter. My sister appeared to brighten the pizza, story-sharing event. The evening was a success.

Saturday morning, it was back to the airport for the flight home. Because of prevailing headwinds, flying West generally takes a little longer. This time, my seatmate was occupied on his phone when I took my place. Waiting to pounce with my gentle series of getting to know you questions, I waited for him to get off his phone. When he pushed the ‘end call’ button, he abruptly turned his head to the window and went to sleep, gone before we finished taxiing to the runway. My expectation had turned into a 'nothing burger' before I even had a chance to say hello.

The flight home was uneventful, and as in the heading East flight, I got a lot of work done. No stories, no vicarious adventures – just my bottom in the seat. Hmm. Zero for two. Unusual for me. Maybe I'm losing 'the touch' or perhaps the times are changing…

The good news? All was well with the family...hugs, and kisses all around. It was a few short days and while we loved being there we were glad to be home.

The better news? The kids were not sick! 

I've got my fingers crossed...

- ted

* The partial list: “Are you going home or you out for some reason?” “What do you do for a living?” “What got you interested in that line of work?”