Airports, Airplanes, Crowds & Cold Weather – But A Warm Greeting
My family is in East Tennessee and I’m in Los Angeles. East Tennessee is a wonderful place to be for Christmas – the Smoky Mountains are festive, houses in neighborhoods all over the city are decorated (some to extravagance) and there’s ice skating at a downtown rink.
But because I fly into Knoxville, there are no direct flights from L.A. So I must connect. Depending on the airline, this usually means Atlanta or Cincinnati (Delta) or Dallas or Nashville (American). This year, I’m on American and have to stop and change plans in Dallas.
I do not look forward to flying during the holidays. Even tho I’m leaving a week before Christmas, there’s always a mad rush at the airports. The lines for security are long and some people act as if they are the only ones going through the process, so they take forever to go through the screening process.
The security and airline employees are always less friendly during this time – hey, it should be the other way around! – and passengers are treated like freight. Sometimes, I wonder if I would be better off to disguise myself as a piece of luggage and ride in the cargo hold.
The flights are always packed and there’s always people cramming their crap into the overhead bin (with airlines charging fees for checked bags everyone tries to bring everything they own on board with them now), clogging up the aisles while others ram into the back of me because I can’t take a step forward. I feel claustrophobic and even when I get to my seat and tiny space, that feeling never escapes me.
I can pretty much guarantee there will be baby screaming one row behind me on every flight segment.
Flying home is the worst part of going home for the holidays.
But I know waiting for me in the Knoxville airport will be my mom with a big smile and a hug, and my more subtle dad with a pat on the back, and that always puts a smile on my face.
As the house comes into view, I’ll see the Christmas lights and decorations my mom has set up and when we pull into the garage, the excited dog will be barking and will come out with a wagging tail, several sniffs, more barks, followed by checking to see if any of us have brought her any food.
Inside, the house will be warm, the tree will be up with the lights and ornaments on it (good, I was never much for decorating the tree!) and Christmas music will be playing as we sit down in the living room and try to think of something to say to each other we haven’t already talked about in the car.
And the dog will still be barking wondering why we did not bring her any food.
Ahh, home!
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