Earlier this year, over the span of five weeks, I was in seven different states. Four graduations, a new birth, and other family and friend events took me from Michigan to Hawaii and several points in between. That meant spending time in a number of airports. I have now realized that airports are like the Land of Oz in at least three ways.
1. Appearances
Nothing in an airport is as it seems. In the Las Vegas airport, I purchased what was described as barbeque with pork, cabbage slaw, a pickle, and a brioche bun. I'd eaten barbeque in an airport before and $18.33 seemed a fair price for a plate, so I placed my order. What I got was a sandwich four inches across with a couple of tablespoons of pork bbq (the edges dried to crispy), two more tablespoons of chopped cabbage, and a couple of pickle slices. It had sat so long on a warming table that the sandwich bottom rang when I thumped it with my fingernail. The only attendant had disappeared, so there was no one to hear my complaint. Since it was midday and I hadn't eaten, I choked down my bbq. It was my own fault, after all. I've been in other airports. I should have known.
2. Who's in charge here?
As in Oz, there is somewhere a wizard, a "man behind the curtain," who makes decisions that affect dozens or hundreds of travelers at a time. Was your flight delayed, and delayed again, and then finally canceled? Some faceless, nameless soul made that choice. Was your gate changed at the last minute requiring you to run like mad, swinging your carryon, as you moved from an A gate to a C gate or even to a different terminal and a possible second trip through security? Whose decision was that? I picture someone in a booth watching the camera images of that mad dash and chuckling maniacally.
3. Arrivals and departures
You can sit down next to a person you've never seen before. The two of you are waiting for the same delayed flight and both have time on your hands. You may learn all about that person's recent divorce, the wedding they're traveling to, the funeral they're returning from, or when the doctor wants to operate on their failing knees. A few minutes later, you're on the plane in different rows and you'll never see that traveler again except, perhaps, at baggage claim. As Dorothy said, "People come and go so quickly here."
Yes, in a few ways, an airport is much like the Land of Oz. Though I see the problems, I plan to travel more and I expect to be in many more airports. What amazes me more than anything is the engineering and organizational brilliance that keeps such places running. Given the numbers of airlines, airplanes, flights, and travelers who are accommodated every single day in airports all around the world, it's astonishing that so many of us get where we intend to go and arrive more or less when we expect to be there. Hats off to the man, or the woman, behind that curtain.
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