I give up thinking there is an easy and seamless way to get ready for a trip.  I should have it down to a science, but I don’t.  The unexpected and unplanned always happen and I end up overwhelmed wishing I could just stay at home.  Years ago Jill said to me, “Mom, stop kvetching!  You’ll be glad when you are on the plane.”  She was 12.  Where did that burst of wisdom come from?

She was right and now every time I get in a dither balancing suitcase weight and making sure nothing is over 3 ounces in my quart size Ziploc baggie, I stop to consider how glad I’ll be when I’m on the plane.  And the plane is so much closer than before since we now have the only privately owned public airport in the country 15 minutes from our house.

My neighbor Bob dropped me off at the curb looking like I was off on a month long safari.  I chose to pack an extra bag and pay the $25.00 additional luggage fee rather than risk the $49.00 over weight limit charge.  The girl at the counter explained since I was paying the $25.00 anyway for four extra dollars I could upgrade to business class.  I had to think about it for a minute because it felt like a trick question.

I was assigned row one aisle seat and since business class boards first, I felt like a Walmart greeter smiling at the passengers as they filed by.  As I bobbed and weaved dodging backpacks and huge carry-ons, my friend Carissa, my dentist, and Jimmy Osmond passed by.  One girl struggling with her bags said to her friend, “Someday I’m going to fly business class.  That would be so nice.”

I wanted to tell her it only cost me $4.00 and if she does, be sure to ask for a window seat.

The flight attendant asked if I would like something to drink. “A Coke please,” I said feeling guilty because other people were still trying to get on the plane.

“A regular Coke,” he asked, like Diet Coke would have been a better choice. 

“Yes, please. Regular,” I smiled. 

“OK”, he answered slowly giving me a chance to change my mind.  “And you sir,” he asked the man in a suit sitting next to me?

“Vodka and cranberry juice,” He answered. “Really,” I thought. It was 10:45 in the morning. I was trying hard not to judge him, because some folks are nervous flying.

I passed on a refill, but my seat mate had another. And another, and another and another.  He must have been really scared. I was starting to be.  I hoped we wouldn’t hit turbulence that might cause him to get sick.  

I started to kvetch. Then I thought of how glad I would be when I got off the plane

A day that starts out working like clockwork can suddenly come to a screeching halt for some of the strangest reasons. I got on a plane yesterday, put everything away, and settled in reading my new magazines. The article about new celebrity romances was interrupted by the pilot. “Ladies and gentlemen, something is broken on the plane. I’m very sorry for the inconvenience. Maintenance is on the way. The dinger is broken. It’s not loud enough. Listen.” Then he pushed the button that summons the flight attendants. It sounded just fine to me and everyone else on the flight. That’s the first time I’ve ever had a pilot test something to verify it’s brokeness to the passengers.

After a 30 minute wait the guys came onboard to investigate the sound system malfunction. I decided to make a trip to the bathroom since we were evidently in a holding pattern on the ground. Apparently to check out the intercom, power for the whole plane had to be shut down. I was in the bathroom when they hit the off switch. That was interesting. It’s really dark in an airplane bathroom. Those doors are hard enough to figure out when the lights are on.

Thirty minutes later the pilot announced a part had to be ordered so we had to deplane. Jim taught me years ago to go straight to the service desk and not waste time in the boarding podium line when things like this happen. He was right. There were only four people ahead of me there instead of 50. The service representative was trying to politely to help one man reroute on a different airline. When they finally got it figured out he stormed away saying, “I will never, never, never fly your airline again,” as his young son watched him. And we discipline kids for throwing fits.

One young woman next to me was beside herself with frustration. “All my plans are ruined for the day. Please just give me a ticket.” Then she looked at me and said through gritted teeth, “This is rIdiculous.” I so badly wanted to tell her it’s a big inconvenience, not cancer and to calm down. But I decided she might be a disgruntled postal worker on a day off, so I just knowingly smiled.

When Kyle the ticket guy gave me my new ticket and I realized I was going to be delayed 5 hours because of a broken dinger that sounded perfectly fine, I started to feel that grip of frustration in my throat too. But then I remembered it really was just a big inconvenience, not cancer. Some days just roll that way. It’s just better to roll with it.