What I did on my summer vacation: My wife and I took our two adult children, Jennifer and Nathan, on a trip to North Carolina. Why North Carolina in the summer time? Free airline tickets and the prospect of enjoying a heat index where it becomes possible to spontaneously combust.
Our flight left Minneapolis at 6:00 am – which meant I had to get my family to the airport at 4:00 am to get through security because at that hour I may be mistaken for a terrorist – which meant we had to get out of bed at 2:00 am. This made me wonder why I should even go to bed. You know how it is before a trip; you can’t fall asleep because a thousand thoughts are spinning in your head – such as the alarm may not go off, or you will probably forget to do something like putting air in the tires or packing enough socks.
Trying to get through airport security is an exacerbating experience. You start by empting your pockets; then you remove your shoes including any lifts, inserts or odor eaters and next you remove your belt. Then while holding your pants up (so you don’t raise the threat level to obscene) you shuffle through the Star Trek teleporter so that they can see through your clothes and your remaining dignity.
The gate for our plane was inconveniently located on the other side of the terminal – somewhere in Wisconsin I think. When we got on the plane I asked the flight attendant if they had a tool set I could use to remove the seats in front of me. I am only slightly taller than the average man but I have discovered that my blood will circulate better when my legs are not tucked under me like a flamingo for several hours. When the tool set did not arrive I tried to stretch my legs in the aisle, but the flight attendant requested that I store them under the seat with my carry on. For this I was rewarded with a pre-packaged cookie the size of an oyster cracker and some ice splashed with cola for color.
We landed in Charlotte and for the next week we drove from one end of North Carolina to the other, and then back again. It is a beautiful state with the Blue Ridge Mountains on the west side, and the Outer Banks on the east end. In between are enough Mobile Homes to give North Carolina the #4 spot in the U.S. for homes of this type. South Carolina ranks #1 and Minnesota is #42 (U.S. census). It was like a very large KOA.
For the return flight I was fortunate enough to hear the ticketing agent announce her request for volunteers willing to switch seats for those along the exit rows. The exit rows are the third most coveted seats on the airplane; only slightly lower than first class and those near the bathroom. These seats provide enough leg room so that by closing your eyes you can imagine that you are seated in second class – or maybe third.
Ever since September 11th I find myself studying the other passengers on the plane and categorizing them: He looks like he could be Baptist? But is it just an act, and what Bible translation is he carrying? What about the women in the traditional Amish head coverings and dresses? Are they allowed to fly or will they force the pilot to taxi the plane the entire trip? Can we trust these Catholic Nuns? Who knows what they have hidden in the deep recesses of their secret sleeve pockets? Next time I may drive.
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