Boundaries

My wife and I took a “triangle trip” last week to see her family and then our son, flying from Augusta (GA) to Denver to Dallas, before returning to Augusta again. There’s nothing round-trip about an itinerary like that; just three one-way flights in a row. Like any other frolic in the friendly skies however, the journey served up easy fodder for a blog post. Hectic airports? Uncomfortable turbulence? Delayed flights? Yes, yes, and yes.  But for today’s post, step up to the podium my fellow passengers, for it is you who have earned my writing wrath.

We’re in familiar territory here.  I’ve written about my flying annoyances in Sitting in the Catbird Seat and First Class is now un-American (among others). But those musings focused on airplane seats and airplane sections.  Today is about airplane occupants.  Some of them are making the national headlines for their ridiculous antics.  The others all seem to have ended up on my flights.  Allow me to introduce my new “friends”.

Which one is the child?

On the flight from Augusta to Denver, a family of three filed into the row directly in front of us; wife on the aisle, young child in the middle, husband on the window.  As they settled into their seats, the kiddo started rapid-firing questions:  Dad, when are we going to take off?  Mom, where do I put my jacket?  Dad, I can’t get my seat belt on!  Do we get snacks? Dad? Hey, DAD!!!

Kids are loud.  I remember my first flight too, and the drive-you-crazy curiosity of a six year old.  But I certainly didn’t expect the parents to answer in baby talk.  Oh Stevie, the biggy wiggy pilot way up in the fwont of the plane decides when we get to fly up, up, up in the sky!  Maybe if you’re a weely weely good boy he’ll give you a wittle pair of wings to put on your backpack!

Or how about… Now Stevie, yelling at Mr. Seat Belt isn’t very nice. Look, there’s a wittle buckle and a wittle other end!  Let’s make it a game!  See if you can snap those bad boys together!

This is why I never leave home without noise-cancelling headphones.

“Hola!”

On the flight from Denver to Dallas, we had our choice of “uncomfortable”.  First, we trudged to the back of the plane, in front of and back of a large group of men who a) chose to be loud and laughy, and b) chose to speak across the aisle/rows in Spanish (even though the smattering of English made it clear they were fluent in both).  At first I thought my nearby amigos were just being a little obnoxious.  But the longer they kept it up, the more I thought I probably ought to know what they’re saying just in case…

This is why I never leave home without Google Translate.

Also on Denver to Dallas, a small child several rows forward spent the whole flight wailing I want Mommy!  I want Mommy!  I want Mommy!  We were too far behind to see or hear what her traveling companion was doing (if anything) to make her feel better, but eventually some kind of alarm went off in my head.  What if this child was being abducted?  After all we were heading to Dallas, which could be considered a gateway to the world for that sort of thing.  I alerted the flight attendant, who assured me everything was okay.  And it was.  Turns out the child belonged to one very overwhelmed father, solo-parenting (or not) a total of three kids.

This is why I never leave home without my wife.

I haven’t even mentioned the usual annoyance.  Since my wife prefers the window seat I graciously accept the middle.  So why is it my neighbor in the aisle seat always takes the armrest?  Doesn’t he or she realize I’m squeezed between two bodies?  Over the last two decades the average airline seat width has shrunk from 18.5″ to 17″.  If the passenger on either side of the middle takes the armrests that means I’m reduced to 15″, while each of them gets 18″.

This is why I never leave home without my elbows.

If you ever fly with me, I’m the guy with his head down reading his Kindle.  I’ll be polite and, for the most part, leave you alone.  But don’t be fooled.  I’ll only have one eye on my e-reader.  The other – and both ears – will be tuned into whatever you’re up to in your seat.  Please respect your boundaries.

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Author: Dave

Five hundred posts would suggest I have something to say… This blog was born from a desire to elevate the English language, highlighting eloquent words from days gone by. The stories I share are snippets of life itself, and each comes with a bonus: a dusted-off word I hope you’ll go on to use more often. Read “Deutschland-ish Improvements” to learn about my backyard European wish list. Try “Slush Fun” for the throwback years of the 7-Eleven convenience store. Or drink in "Iced Coffee" to discover the plight of the rural French cafe. On the lighter side, read "Late Night Racquet Sports" for my adventures with our latest moth invasion. As Walt Whitman said, “That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.” Here then, my verse. Welcome to Life In A Word.

20 thoughts on “Boundaries”

  1. I’ve thought for some time that it would be nice to have a ‘gun’ that could stop a person in their tracks – but I don’t mean ‘make them dead’. If they were being stupid drivers, it would make their car safely move to the side of the road and then quit. It seems like such a device would be really good on a plane too – you would set it to ‘silence’ mode.

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    2. Sign me up! Might be prone to overuse but I love the idea of freezing a situation just long enough to gain the necessary assistance. There’ve been several times in our flying adventures where we could’ve used your “gun”.

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  2. Oh my – next time you’ll be driving like you did to California last year (so you could take the bikes). Sounds like some charming fellow passengers you had Dave and I like how you added a notation after relaying each story. Since I really was not allowed to misbehave in any way (I knew better), reading about the child with the endless questions and responding in baby talk just amazes me. I think I mentioned before that my first plane trip at age 13 was to Germany and we had horrid turbulence. The elderly Italian woman a row or so ahead kept wailing and crying “we’re all gonna die.” Cheery – thanks for your vote of confidence in the pilot.

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    1. One of the sacrifices we accepted in moving to the South was knowing we’d board planes more often, especially to our family beach house on the West Coast. Driving (with the bikes) seems like a dream option now, esp. when you price e-bike rentals!

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      1. That is unfortunate, but faster travel-wise. Down the road, maybe get extra bikes to store there? I didn’t realize e-bike rentals were high but at least transporting your own bikes, you know they are tip-top condition. So your first Father’s Day as a grandfather!

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      2. Fifth! We already have three granddaughters in Colorado. And those e-bikes – they are VERY expensive (do a quick online search and you’ll see). We’d have to win the lottery to afford an extra set!

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      3. Oh my goodness Dave! I must have read your recent post about your daughter’s firstborn very wrong. I just did a quick online search – I had no idea. Someone suggested I get a folding e-bike as some of the larger metroparks are connected (a total 49-mile loop) and put it in my car trunk. I had not looked into a regular, e-bike or folding e-bike though. You’re right – too pricey for an extra set.

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  6. Your stories of what happened on your flights are why I’m hesitant to want to fly anywhere. I used to love flying but people respected boundaries then. It’s sometimes difficult to know if a person is being inconsiderate on purpose or they just don’t know any better. Either way I’ll stay away from planes for a little longer.

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    1. Anything seems to go these days, Ally. A quick scan of the characters in First Class is all you need to realize how much things have changed.

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    1. “…just transportation”. Great way to describe it, Ana. Flying used to be an enjoyable adventure; a privilege really. Today it’s like riding the bus.

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  9. People on planes can be. the worst! I try to have patience, but it can be so hard. It really is like riding the bus, unless you can get into first class, then you’re treated like a real person and can actually relax.

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    1. The saddest commentary here is that I’ve come to expect it. Someone (or someones) is inevitably going to make the flight “intolerant”, all the while believing they’re not a disturbance to others. It’s almost as if we need to solemnly swear to a code of etiquette as we enter the plane or be banned from a future flight. Now there’s an idea…

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