Travel Musings

AM: Travel
PM: Travel

First and most importantly, we made it! Hello, 70-degree temperatures! Hello, sunshine! Hello, mountains and palm trees and happiness!

That said, traveling from coast to coast pretty much sucks. Since Gary and Roger had oh so benevolently given us a few free tickets to use for our travels, we were at the mercy of the often convoluted airline schedules. Throw in the usual holiday travel traffic and add a dash of east coast weather delays, and you've got a recipe for complication. As a result, our trip would involve not one but two stops, a 20-passenger prop jet and some delayed luggage before we would finally arrive in beautiful Palm Springs 12 hours after leaving our house this morning. I can say without hesitation, however, that it was so worth it--and I'm glad I have a two-week reprieve before undertaking that task again.

Just a quick question/observation on that front: So, the plane taxis down the runway and coasts into its stopping point at the gate. You hear the long-awaited "ding!" which signifies that you are now permitted to unfasten your safety belt. Why is it that as soon as they are granted permission to move, every single passenger--including those seated all the way back in 192Q--insist on flinging their coats to the side and leaping out of their seats? I mean, don't we all realize by now that it's going to take at least, best case scenario, a good 10 minutes before the people in the back will be allowed to deplane? Yet every single passenger still insists on springing up and flailing about just in case every row in front of them inexplicably decides to remain motionless and allow the passengers seated in row 94 to disembark first. I just don't get it.

And while we're at it, allow me to share something else that slightly disturbed me yesterday. As we arrived at our first stop of the day (Chicago O'Hare, in case you were wondering), the captain came over the loudspeaker and said, "Flight attendants, please disarm the doors for arrival." Now I don't know about you, but I've never heard the phrase "disarm the doors" used in that context before. It's usually something like, "Flight attendants, please prepare the doors for arrival and cross-check," or something like that. So you'll understand that I find it slightly disconcerting to know that the doors of our jumbo jet were laden with bazookas or machetes or whatever arms the captain might have been cryptically referring to.

But I digress. We've made it to California alive and well, and all is right with the world.