on flying

i'll say it straight up: i like flying. not flying places, just flying.

from the childhood excitment and bewilderment, to the bravado of my biannual 24-hour jaunts, and now the short hops i take to make a living, i've always liked being crammed up in a seat next to strangers with no scenery outside save clouds and sky and nothing to do but read or watch tv.

childhood excitment, yeah everyone's been there and done that. but packaged food in too dainty portions can be pretty dreadful. as is of course, the annoying hour-long trip to even get to the airport, the interminable and inexplicable waits in line, and the rigor mortis that sets in almost immediately in cattle class.

but here's the thing, i like flying because flying clears my mind. on that hour-long taxi ride, i don't think about where i'm going - and what i'm leaving behind begins to fade. my luggage is in the trunk, but i left a whole lot else back home: my files, my engagements, the book i'm sort of reading but know i won't get to over the next couple of days.

i used to say, "airports and hospitals are the two most emotional places on earth". well, look closely enough and you'll see them. the people who walk briskly through the airport like it's a train station. no baggage checked, no free internet browsing, no mistakes at the "you can't bring water or cosmetics past this point" point. there are four uniformed staff who matter, the person who gives you your boarding pass, the person who stamps your passport, the person who scans your stuff with an x-ray, (and to bring it full circle,) the person who tears your boarding pass and returns you the stub. the rest are fake roadblocks. smile at them and say hello, they'll probably smile back.

people take the eurorail to see the continent roll past them. i take planes to see nothingness for as long as it lasts. you tried to call me? i don't think i got the call, i was on the plane. i'll send you the attachment in a couple of hours. oh i'll be on the plane, can i just look at it tomorrow? being "on the plane" is my antidote to connectivity. "on the plane", i can pray, or sleep, or read, or think. i can do those in any and no order, and you would be none the wiser.

you could say that the plane is just an accessory, and what i really crave is time alone. but sitting in a hot-tub or a well-appointed study is just not the same. the rituals of flying are cathartic in and of themselves. furthermore, time alone with the door shut and no one knocking, is a luxury for the important and self-important. the rest of us have to make do, and flying is our only excuse.

these days, i sleep on planes so often that i don't even open my eyes when the plane lands. i get woken up, sure, but i know we're going to taxi around a bit before the lights come on and the show starts again. so i hit the mental snooze button, and let my thoughts stir themselves back to life. i prepare to hit the ground running (which i now surmise must be an aeronautical metaphor), and make sure to grab the disembarkation form that i stuffed in the seat pocket in front of me - i'll fill it up while i'm standing in line at customs.

i like flying because it clears my mind. yes, that is several hundred dollars' worth of mind-clearing every week. but as long as i'm not paying, i don't begrudge the pilot his livelihood, and i'm sure he doesn't begrudge me mine either.