Monday, 3/4

With two months (and a few days) before we leave for Germany (and hoping that striking airport, Deutsche Bahn, and municipal transits workers are done with their labor actions by then), I was thinking about something over the weekend, and it made me realize I have a confession to make--

I actually like to fly.

I know; it's strange. Most people look upon flying somewhere with the same enthusiasm they would have looking forward to a root canal. But not me. For some reason, even on those days when it takes (for example) 22 hours to fly from Munich to London to Chicago to Marquette, I actually get excited that I'm gonna be up in the air soon.

Go figure.

I don't know why I always so look forward to flying. I just do. And before you think I'm totally insane, know that I am fully aware of the hassle of flying. I know what it's like having to stand in long security lines. I know what it's like losing luggage. And although I've never had to deal with a situation as extreme as one of my former TV co-workers recently did (when her Wednesday night flight from Detroit to Marquette didn't actually make it to Marquette until Saturday night), I know first hand what it's like having to make a short connection or re-book a canceled flight.

Yet, I still look forward to doing it.

I suppose, if I had to think about it, that maybe it's because I like the romance of flying. Not romance as falling head over heels in love, and not romance as in joining the Mile High Club, but just the “romance” of doing something out of the ordinary and going somewhere special. Maybe I like it because flying is a gateway to an adventure. And that's true. But it still wouldn't account for the fact that I even enjoy the flights home after the “adventure” is finished. I still enjoy boarding the plane, spending hours gazing out the window and watching the world slip by below me, and I still enjoy the rhythm of life that's unique to an airport.

I can't explain why. I just do.

Ask me again at the end of the May, after we may or may not have made it to Germany and back successfully. But you know what? Even if that were to happen, even if I spent a lot of time afterward grumbling about it, I'd probably still harbor a weird, secret wish--

That I'd be able to fly again, and fly again soon.

(jim@wmqt.com)