Travel conclusions

We returned to the Lone Star State yesterday, well, today, actually. Many lessons were learned in transit. Many prayers were uttered. Many desires for a magic genie (a la Aladdin) bubbled up in my brain. Many pieces of gum were chewed.

So what did I learn?
1st lesson, a somewhat surprising one: I'd rather fly out at the crack of dawn than later in the day. Our departure to Minnesota was a 6 a.m. flight. I bought the tickets this summer (rather desperately since I kept trying to book on Priceline.com only to receive 3 messages that, "This fare is no longer available"), and postponed my dread of the earlier departure until after Thanksgiving. Obviously, 6 a.m. flight means 4:30 a.m. airport arrival. Yikes. Especially when we live 1.5+ hours from the airport.

In an attempt to lessen the earliness of our departure, we stayed in a motel just down the road from the airport, and the kids loved it. They loved the beeping alarm clock and the Parking Spot shuttle bus too. They even loved being in the airport and taking the moving sidewalks. At 4:30 a.m., the airport is just waking up. People are fresh and friendly. I had a TSA agent carry all my bags from the shuttle bus to the ticketing area. Most appreciated, since we had 3 bags, 4 carry-ons (including Graham and Annie's own darling pull bags from Meme and PawPaw), and assorted sweatshirts tied around waists. The security line was ... not really a line. We got right in at 4:45 a.m. There was even a friendly employee who sold me chocolate filled croissants at the little newsstand, even though the bakery portion wasn't supposed to open until 5 a.m.

Although it meant getting up early - major yawns all around - we had excitement on our side.

Our return flight left Minnesota at 2:45 or so. A great time in that I was able to visit with Kara & Sara, dear high school friends, before the flight. But after arriving in Atlanta - my favorite comment from my mom during our packing-up frenzy was "Have you checked the weather in Atlanta? Are you sure you don't need these coats?" For no other reason than the frightening prospect of having to make a second trip through the security checkpoint, we stayed inside Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. Our only Georgia ambiance came from JukeJoints, a BBQ place near our gate - the kids were getting tired.

Even before we left Minnesota, I could feel the stress of the later time. The airport was full, the security line stalled. The bags felt heavier & the sweatshirts were dragging behind our bags. We didn't have time to play in the KidZone before boarding our plane because it took so long to have our belongings x-rayed.

Once in Georgia, our flight was supposed to leave Atlanta at 8:55 p.m. Eastern time. We sat on the aircraft for 1 hour. Hell on wheels, people. The temperature alternated between stale heat and gusts of cold air from the blowers above our heads. My children were "soooooooooooo thirsty" that they couldn't stop saying the word thirsty. I'm not proud to admit this but I resorted to pinching, as in pinching Graham's behind on the (literally) 36th time he said "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, blastoff" while we waited on the tarmac without blasting off.

Once in the air, Annie fell sweetly asleep and Graham watched a movie. I listened to a bit of satellite radio and read old issues of O Magazine, a favorite airplane activity! But once we landed at 11:10 p.m., Annie awoke very un-sweetly, and who can blame her? Her zip-up boots were giving us fits, and she sobbed, "These boots fit in Minnesota but my feet have grown."

I could feel my hair actually beginning to curl as we walked through Houston Hobby. I could feel my emotions curl too as we waited for 25 minutes before the bags arrived. My children were rolling their lucky coins on the filthy floor and bickering over who could sit on top of the SmartCart. There was definitely no friendly TSA agent to help me maneuver my Beverly Hillbillies-style cart to the waiting zone.

We got home home at 2 a.m., and they woke up a little as I carried them in the house. Both were excited to see the cats and the completed nativity set, but both were half zombies. Graham peeled off all of his clothes and hopped into bed stark naked. Annie was past the point of sanity. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and said, "You disgust me!" Then she got in her bed and fell asleep before her head was on the pillow. As I lay beside her in the narrow twin bed, since as my friend/wonderful cat care technician Jennifer had warned me, Knight got "confused" about his litter box and used my bed, I vowed never to try a late arrival by myself again. It's one thing where there is a wonderful Grandpa Fred waiting at Baggage Claim to help. It's another when there are no reinforcements on the horizon.

2nd lesson, a somewhat short-lived one: AirTran is a swell airline. For some reason, probably word connotation gone wild, I thought it was a cargo freight-type operation. It's the "Tran" part of the name. I associated the airline with people sitting next to cardboard boxes, hanging on to loops of canvas on the wall.

The planes themselves were very nice, very new, quite clean and powerful. I've gotten used to flying MD-80s. These were Boeing 727s and 707s that flew at 40,000 feet. (3rd lesson - I think I prefer flying at 29,000 feet.) As we took off from Atlanta to Minneapolis, the surge was so powerful I was sure we were headed for the International Space Station. I guess I prefer to be a bit closer to terra firma, as in lips to the ground.

But all fear aside, the flights were buttery smooth. They served SpriteZero and offered refills multiple times. They gave out little headsets for the satellite radio. Hey, AirTran, I'm going to fly you again, I thought.

Then today I saw the news headlines: AirTran apologizes for kicking innocent Muslim family off flight in an embarrassing way because of an innocuous conversation about the safest place to be seated in the plane amidst glares from suspicious fellow travelers.

Oh, AirTran. I had just opened my heart to you.