Planes, Pains, and Materialism

I just have to say that my flight from Pittsburgh to D.C. was a bit nerve-wracking. I have never been on such a small airplane. It was a ‘shuttle flight’ on a Saab 340. Translation – a twin-prop with room for maybe 30 passengers. You feel every dip and turn and bump. Being one with the air was…er…prayer-inspiring.

The flight from D.C. to London was, of course, on the other end of the spectrum. A double-decker holding I don’t know how many people flying through utter darkness. It reminded me of the fantasies I had as a kid where I imagined that air travel was just an illusion. They put you on a plane, make it move around like a carnival ride, change the scenery, and out you come only having moved from one room to another. The only exciting thing that happened was spilling water on the keyboard of my laptop. I was able to remove the keyboard and clean everything up before any damage was done. Computer surgery mid-flight! I arrived in London with a sore back and sleepy head and a regret for having packed my jacket in my checked luggage.

Heathrow is nicer than most malls I’ve been sucked into, a materialistic marshland filled with sirens singing plaintively all along the path. Fortunately there is also an oasis (I know I’m mixing my environmental metaphors). At the end of Terminal Four is the “Quiet Seating Area,” three rooms full of chairs, snoozing travelers, and blank walls. It’s not a beautiful space, but it is a peaceful one.