I don’t want to ever travel by air again. We returned home last night/this morning at midnight from a week-long vacation (a reunion of old friends meeting together for the first time since COVID to support one of our group on the second anniversary of her husband’s death, who was a great friend to the other seven of us and the “glue” that bound us all together).
Four of “The Magnificent 7” are located in California, two in Wisconsin, and the other in Alabama. We spent time at her house and together in a 4-bedroom rental property in Panama City, Florida.
Good times, considering the usually-left-unmentioned reason for the timing of the reunion. The day we returned home was the 2-year anniversary of his funeral. I gave the talk. Five hundred people were there, not to mention another 400 listening over the phone. It was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. But I felt I owed it to him, as he gave the funeral talk for my firstborn son 9 1/2 years ago, 7 1/2 years before his own death. I would have done it, anyway, though.
The point is, we all love each other and it’s always heartwarming to get together.
However (there’s always a however), the trip back was uncomfortable (in the literal sense of the word) and the trip there was even worse. Traveling by air is a mild form of torture.
Here’s what happened, in a nutshell:
My wife and I were flying from Monterey, where we live, to San Francisco, for the first leg of the trip. Our flight was canceled “at the last minute” (the night before). So, we had to get a friend to drive us to Frisco—in the rain, and early in the morning.
The second leg was from Frisco to Chicago. A passenger caused a delay because he or she or it decided after boarding to not fly after all. Granted, there may have been an emergency, or they had a panic attack, or something, but I think it was just because they got impatient due to one of the typical delays that was occurring. That caused a long enough further delay, due to them having to retrieve his (or her or its) luggage from the hold, that the 138 other passengers who were traveling from Chicago to Atlanta missed our flight.
Oh, and another irritation: my wife had to unpack all of her luggage while going through the security checkpoint because of a knife in her luggage. The “knife” turned out to be actually almost as much a gun as it was a knife:
Source of the TSA Knifegun drama, a 2” long letter opener souvenir from the Mark Twain house, which I didn’t even remember was in that suitcase.
Our delay in Chicago (where United put us up overnight in a “nice” hotel (the hotel wasn’t literally nice, as it is not a sentient being, but you know what I mean)) caused us to be late picking up our rental vehicle in Atlanta. They threatened to charge us $40 gazillion dollars (or something like that) for missing our appointment to rent it, which really got my dander up. It wasn’t our fault our flight was delayed! My wife finally worked it out with them, and ultimately it turned out fine, but it was unwanted and unnecessary stress and frustration and aggravation compounded onto our already jaw-tightened mood.
So we finally reached our destination (meeting our friends in Florida instead of Abalama due to our lateness and their need to be in Florida by a certain time) Tuesday afternoon (instead of Monday night).
The next several days were great (visiting parks and a museum, eating out, playing SkipBo around the dinner room table at night, and watching the Green Bay Packers beat the until-then undefeated Arizona Cardinals, but mostly just “visiting” with each other).
We had another delay because of a passenger: On the leg from Houston to Frisco on the return trip, a passenger wearing a Nascar jacket (just sayin’) refused to keep her mask on and, after much back-and-forth, finally exited the plane. They then said we all had to get off the plane, with our baggage, to be re-checked, which seemed ridiculous or at best overkill, but fortunately they quickly changed their mind and allowed us to remain aboard. Again we were delayed for our next connecting flight due to this fiasco, but thankfully the Frisco to Monterey plane waited for us.
Here’s another extremely irritating thing that happened: on both occasions when our flight was late, and we had little or no time to make it to our connecting flight, the flight attendant asked those who did not need to make a connecting flight to remain in the seats to allow those in a hurry to get off first. On the first occasion, this direction wasn’t heeded—everyone in the front part of the plane disembarked first regardless. I find it practically impossible that all of them had connecting flights to make.
On the second occasion, people seemed to listen to reason at first, but after a few minutes lost they seemed to simply lose their patience and would wait no longer. Again, the front of the plane had all deplaned by the time we were able to get off and race to our next flight. Too many people are rude and selfish. It has gotten worse in recent years. And is it a coincidence that those in “first class” all disembarked first in those cases? Could it really be that all of them needed to make it to another flight post-haste? I doubt it. Maybe they were told they could do so, which is no better (the fault then being with the airline).
United (which we flew), for the most part, acted decently, but the odd goofball passenger as well as the selfish ones made things too dramatic and irritating for my taste.
Not just that, but I don’t like flying, anyway. I don’t have a fear of flying, as I know the statistics (how relatively safe flying is, as opposed to other methods of travel); After all, planes are flying all over the place all the time, and how often do you hear of a deadly crash in a commercial domestic flight? Hardly ever. It’s much safer than driving.
However (another “however”), what I really hate, besides all the delays and inconveniences, is the cramped seating. I feel like a steer being led to the slaughter when herded onto the plane and stuffed like a sardine into the kiddie-sized seats.
From now on, I hope to travel by train when it is at all feasible to do so. And I know what I’m talking (actually writing) about: we took the train from Chicago to Sacramento (sort of a rail version of Route 66) some years ago, and I loved it (we had a sleeper). I’ve also traveled by rail from Spokane, Washington to San Luis Obispo, and from Spokane to upstate New York. So this is my recommendation: if you have the extra time, take the train, at least when traveling west of Chicago (from Chicago east the trains are more like subway cars than “old school” trains, which I love).
Going to sleep to the gentle rocking and the hypnotic clack-clack is very soothing. You also save time, as opposed to driving: You don’t have to stop to eat—you’re fed right on the train. You also don’t have to stop at a motel to sleep—you slumber while the train continues to rumble along, at 77 mph.
So going by rail is faster and safer (and probably much less expensive) than driving your own vehicle. Plus, you can enjoy the scenery without having to keep your eyes on the road and other drivers.
The train is IMO better than driving and WAY better than flying. The only advantages to flying are the views from the window seat (at rare intervals there are interesting things to see, if you have a window seat) and the time you save. Otherwise, flying is an excellent thing to eject from your life.