The Romance of Air-Travel

Some thoughts and ruminations on my air-travel stint on Sunday. My first impression was, of course, the TSA Security point at the lower end of Logan's Terminal D. I had a wheelchair bound passenger ahead of me. It took quite a bit of time. Not his fault, but TSA CERTAINLY didn't help things. Because they didn't want him bringing his cane through and since his wheelchair was being reassembled on the other side, the poor guy had to crawl through the metal-detection arch. I just buried my face in my hands. How embarrassing. How humiliating. And the by-the-book feds didn't seem to think this was awkward at all. Dealing with the public can be challenging, but PLEASE GOD, don't let me get this jaded... And SPEAKING of dealing with the public, both ways were considerably full and there was the usual delightfully stimulating air of organized chaos and an effervescently diverse range of temperatments and attitudes. I'm not saying that MOST of them were ill-mannered or ill-tempered goons but it seemed to me that there's a considerable amount of simmering anger out there...and not all of it having to do with the strains of travel. A sign of the times, I guess. The trick is not to get polluted by it. Not always easy... Happy flying...