There’s an airline ticket for today with my name on it. Not a paper ticket; how passé those are these days. No, mine is an e-ticket, which of course I printed out because at my age it’s still a little unnerving not to have physical proof of my reservation. Never mind that the acknowledgment of my ticket purchase is in my email, and that I also took a screenshot of it. Nothing makes me feel more secure than having the darned thing printed on something tangible.
I remember when airline travel was the purview of the well-to-do. Women dressed to fly as if they were headed to church, and gentlemen donned suits and ties. Flight attendants were all female and had to meet strict age, height, and weight guidelines.
By the time I finally got to fly, airlines were much more egalitarian. No one got all dressed up to sit on a crowded plane between two sweaty businessmen. Flight attendants, male and female alike, looked like normal people instead of models. Still, flying was an exciting event for me. It still is.
Even though I flew regularly as part of my job with a non-profit for several years, I never tired of traveling by plane. Sure, there have been trying times–lost luggage, cancelled flights, ornery seat-kicking kids in the row directly behind mine, but still I’m entranced by the magical experience of a giant metal machine full of people overcoming the bonds of gravity to soar from point A to point B.
Hopefully all will go smoothly today, and in just a few hours after taking off from the Tallahassee airport I’ll be with my daughter and her family in Illinois. Magic.