Dear Ten Thousand Feet,
I have never longed for you more than today. After an hour of sitting in the plane on the tarmac, I have missed you like Lieutenant Al Powell of Die Hard fame misses Twinkies. It seems Denver had a mile high of 9 degrees today. Therefore I got my first de-icing experience. Unfortunately, this came at a time when I was seated in front of a very talkative threesome.
Things started off promising. As a Southwest B01 boarding pass, I had to go to the rear of the plane to get my aisle seat. However, I did manage to lock down row 17. For those frequent Southwest fliers, you know what this means. For the grounded, this means I am on the first row for drink orders in the back third of the cabin. Count it. Then the conversation began behind me…
The young gentleman began explaining the de-icing process and related payment schedule to the two young ladies. When asked how he knew all of this, he explained he was in construction and his boss had sent him to Aviation conventions. A few jokes and casual references to his smoking and drinking habits later, the ladies revealed they were doing graduate research at Vanderbilt. Their field: Molecular Physiology.
Bob the builder was not fazed by this daunting career variance. The ladies began explaining their fields of research, each having a focus in Diabetes. Bob talked about how his grandfather makes a great cheesecake. They begin explaining the differences between type I and type II. He tells about how someone in Denver offered his grandma a bowl of marijuana. They explain how a research facility operates. He talks about roofies.
I cannot make this stuff up.
[Meanwhile, as I have discovered that typing these things makes a flight go by faster, I am at it again. The flight attendant just moved on to take row 18’s orders. Unfortunately, an old man had just finished up in the rear restroom. This old man passed the flight attendant right at my shoulder. And yes, he did go butt towards the flight attendant. As I had been missing you so much, I had my earphones in at 10,002 feet; therefore, I had no audible warning of the fast approaching old man genitalia. Four layers of fabric have never felt so insufficient as the four between my shoulder and that old man’s crotch.]
The combination of early boarding, waiting for connecting luggage, and de-icing provided me a full hour of this auditory anguish. Currently, the ipod is at full volume. Alas, Bob’s chainsaw of a voice still pierces my ears. The scientists appear happy to be conversing with something other than a fieldmouse, so the conversation continues.
Ten Thousand Feet, as soon as I sit down in a fully upright seat, there’s always something missing. My approved electronic device waits, patiently stowed, for me to retrieve it. Without you, TTF, I am incomplete. I know so often you go unnoticed. A mere number, a threshold of aural enjoyment. Not today. Today, TTF, I thank you.
Well, I guess we’re together now, and I finally got that off my digital chest. So, if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to go ahead and bask in the joy that is you. Still though, I think this plane is bound to land with at least 4 people who are dumber than they were when we began de-icing.
This is me promising to never again take you for granted.
Love,
Row 17.
[NOTE: Tune in next time for my most recent skiing adventure... it went a little differently than the last.]
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