Airplanes

I love planes. There’s something very poetic about flying. The airport is a musical place, filled with the hustle and bustle of people who have places to be and things to do. The airport is when people are their most bored, stressed or asleep. It’s amazing people-watching. I find that even though you see people on their laptops, concentrating very hard on whatever it is they get paid to do, the airport is a very hard place to be productive. It’s full of distractions and weird chair stains and overpriced snacks (I paid 6.30 for a bottle of water. What the hell is jfk??). I think the reason airport things cost so much is because they catch people at their most desperate. They can’t leave the airport, but they’re starving, so what is there to do besides cough up a hefty sum for a stale ham and cheese sandwich? When you try to do work, you inevitably come to the conclusion that you don’t have the energy, that it’s too crowded, or are overcome by the anxious need to have all your stuff perfectly packed just in case they change your gate and you have to up and leave before the hoardes waiting to board get to the good seats before you. You have hours before you have to board, yet there is no motivation to fill that time. It’s just the same on the plane. The blasting wind noises and humming engine sounds that fill the plane up with sensory fog dull your hearing, smelling, and tasting. They dry your skin out and tire you deep into your soul. You can’t help but be sleepy on a plane, and how productive can a sleepy mind really be? You’ll take out your lapotop, stare at a blank spreadsheet for awhile, then give up and watch a sappy rom-com on the tiny screen on the back of a stranger’s seat with earbuds that make the creases of your ear ache because the airline decided to make earbuds that are too damn big for anyone’s ears. And yet, I love being on planes. I love the way the turbulence feels, that’s how you know you’re a million miles off the ground. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the thrill of takeoff and landing. You can feel the speed, and it feels so good. It’s like a less scary. More pleasant version of a roller coaster. That’s just me, though. My mother is terrified of heights, terrified of planes, and terrified of turbulence. She hates when the plane moves, and every trip we take, we have to designate a hand-holder to get her through the flight. It seems really scary to watch her. So, if you don’t like flying, I’m very sorry. That has got to not be fun, especially in such a small space. Planes confine  you to a very small space alone with your thoughts. Flying on a plane is a very self-reflective experience. When you look out a plane window, seeing an entire city laid out for you is kind of like seeing your life laid out for you. If you’ve never had a mini extisential crisis about the grand scope of your life while you’re on a plane, you’re either too young to be terrified of getting older, or you aren’t human. Sitting in an airplane seat with all your possessions never your head and at your feet, you feel like you could go anywhere. I guess that’s what planes are for. For a brief window of time, you’re suspended 50,000 feet above your responsibilities. It’s really liberating to know that for a few hours, you don’t answer to anyone. That moment that I know everyone has, when, before takeoff, you get situated, and when everything is in order and you’re in your seat, you breath that sigh of relief. ahhhhhhhh. I’m on vacation. I get to relax in a semi-comfortable environment. You don’t have to return a single email because not all planes, even these days, have working wi-if,k and even if yours did, your boss doesn’t have to know that. Somehow I feel guilty for not working most of the time, yet on a plane I don’t feel tied to anything. Ironically, I feel like I’m flying. I feel free. It’s a little enclosed space of heaven filled with terrible movies that you embarrass yourself by sobbing at, though you mostly don’t care because you know everyone else wants to cry just as much as you do. There’s a strange sense of camraderie on a plane. Everyone is packed in like sardines, and even though you’re all strangers, you get each other. You get how annoying airports and planes and security are. It’s an unspoken, collective, giant UGH.