Most of the warnings about traveling for the holidays have centered around Covid-19. Lost in the whirlwind of vaccinations, testing, and the need for double masking is the physical ordeal of traveling during a busy holiday. I was invited to spend a few days in the heartland of America—Ohio—for Christmas. I had to make a few stops along the way with the promise that the layovers would get me to my destination no longer than 3 hours after departing. In December, the first stop Missouri is generally no winter picnic, cold, sometimes snowy, and my stop in Chicago, on my way to Ohio, would be bone-chillingly cold, I assumed.
So, I dressed for the occasion…
I layered up with a sweatshirt, hoodie, skull cap, and full-length overcoat. I sweated through sixty-degree temperatures at Philadelphia’s airport, lugging my bags inside (curbside check-in is still not available), where I found it necessary to remove my laptop from one of my bags to stay under the free bag 50lb limit. I packed three bags, including a flight bag, a carry-on shoe bag, and a large one for my clothing, but I was prepared for the weather. I boarded my flight early. I paid for a window seat. Three across called for the customary fight for the armrest, which I won. I decided not to put my coat in the overhead bin, and even with a temperature-cooled cabin, I craved the complimentary few ounces of soda pop that would help wash down the accompanying trail mix.
I deplaned in St. Louis only to immediately hear the current temperature was 75 degrees, followed by an echoing announcement your connecting flight would be delayed four hours; have a nice day. So, there I sat, having skipped breakfast, layered up like Sir Edmund Hillary scaling Everest and searching for a seat with an open charging station for my phone. Most of us who travel regularly know better than to assault our digestive systems with airport fast food. That knowledge was not satisfying my hunger, and the King was a short walk away. I had the opportunity, the money, and hopefully, the time to rid myself of the evidence before I boarded in three and a half hours. My hunger betrayed me, and I ordered double everything; I paid the cost later. The flight from St. Louis, Missouri to Columbus, Ohio is 55 minutes, and trust me, I counted every uncomfortable minute. I skipped the soft drink and the snack mix. The flight attendant asked if I was comfortable. I wanted to scream, “No!”
My stomach, at this point, was churning faster than the engine on the 737 I was aboard. Then comes that big decision is the embarrassment of loud flatulence at your seat worth the risk of leaving a vapor trail on your way to the bathroom. I took a deep breath, held it in, and made the 55 minutes to Ohio. Of course, Ohio was also in the throes of hotter than average temperatures. So, I walked out of the airport bundled up, hot, churning, and tired. To date, I have avoided Covid, and I am ready to eat a calorie-laden Christmas dinner; by the way, there are three bathrooms.
Merry Christmas and Continue to Vote for Change