SAT –
MDW – DSM – STL - PSP – MSY – DFW – CID – LAS - ORD
The
acronyms are endless.
With
the move to Texas, I’ve come to know the code well. For the uninitiated, they are airport abbreviations.
When so
many people you care about live so far away, flights become a fact of
life. And, out of necessity, I’ve become
quite the expert on fares, routes, timetables.
This
new hobby is ironic in the extreme, as the airlines and I have never been best friends. Our love/hate relationship started with my
first flight. I was 19 years old. I flew to Newark; my bags to Ft. Lauderdale. And so it began….
The
airlines have even held me hostage upon occasion. The most extreme example was the flight home
following my family’s five-month stint in Poland. The jet taxied away from Heathrow terminal
and held us captive on the tarmac. After
six hours, they finally decided the plane wasn’t going anywhere and returned us
to the terminal.
Despite
my rocky air travel history, planes have become a necessary evil with the move
to south Texas. Texas is enormous. The drive to anywhere is long. San Antonio to Des Moines is a 16 hour
drive. To St. Louis – 15 hours. To Chicago – 19 hours. This is why I fly.
The only redeeming feature of so many flights
is the airports. For those, like me, who
participate in the sport of people-watching, there’s no place like it. I come by my affinity naturally; my mother is
the champ. She can miss an entire
conversation when engaged in people-watching.
Airports, filled with people, are
undoubtedly one of the best venues - the saris and turbans, the cowboy hats and
bedroom slippers, the serapes and muumuus.
The dad running for the gate with a child
under each arm. The Amish couple
stumbling, dazed. The over-lipsticked
woman pushing her Chihuahua in its stroller.
The man reading the Des Moines
Register that looks so much like my Grandpa Schulz I want to cry. The new Air Force recruits trying not to act
as nervous as they feel.
The incessant rush to the next gate, to get
in the next line, to scramble down the next gangway, and tumble into the next
seat. Whew.
I am a great fan of visiting new places, but not a great fan of getting to new places. As
long as I live in San Antonio, however, the airlines, the airports, and I will
continue to tango, and I will continue to muddle through the IATA alphabet soup. I just returned from PSP and AUS; this spring I'll get to DSM and BUD.
