In two days, I get on a plane and fly to Phoenix. I keep thinking about that. I haven’t flown since 2000 – last year’s Conference was here in Washington, DC, and my travel only involved a cab ride.
I’m a little nervous about it, especially as it gets closer and more terrorist alerts (or, “Heightened Awareness”) are in the news.
But I think, more than the threat of disaster, what bothers me is the thought that I will have to stand in line for hours, have to dismantle all of my carefully paced bags, perhaps be strip searched and interrogated, etc. But at least they no longer ask if you packed your own bags. (“No, I let some total bastard from the Middle East pack them for me.”) That’s a real time saver.
I am one of those people who hate flying, but I hate it because of the customer service aspect. I hate being made to feel like livestock, or a shipping commodity. I feel like I would be better treated if I climbed into a box and slapped a FedEx shipping label on it.
Airline passengers are herded to and fro, packed tightly into long metal shipping containers, penned in tiny seats about one and a half feet wide, fed a subsistence diet… and that confinement makes the passengers peck each other to death. Perhaps they should remove our beaks at the security checkpoint and inject us with some kind of hormone to keep us docile.
I wanted to take the train to Phoenix, but apart from the fact that it would take 3 days, would you believe that TRAINS DON’T GO THERE? You have to take the train to Flagstaff then take a bus for 3 hours. The plane (with stop over) will take me 6 hours. Wow – who knew? Well, you do, now.
