Wind beneath thy wings

As I mentioned early this week, I flew down to Ft. Lauderdale to visit company headquarters and to get some product knowledge training. This was my first time flying since 9/11, so I was curious to see how different things were prior to that date.

Going through security really wasn't that bad. The line was a little long, but you could tell that the staff was trying to be as careful as possible about screening people. If you beeped in any way while walking through the metal detector, not only were you going to get "wanded", you were also going to get frisked. Regardless of this, the lines did move quickly. All in all, I felt pretty good about the process. I can also say that I feel a lot more secure about the screening process as far as theft is concerned, I think a lot less stuff is getting stolen than before (laptops, purses, things of that nature).

It was interesting in that Southwest also checked carry on luggage prior to boarding. They actually had their own wands that they were using at the gate. Yet another reason to fly Southwest, as far as I'm concerned.

It was strange seeing a National Guardsman standing by the entrance fully armed. I've seen them on the news, but to actually see him there in reality was somewhat unsettling to me for some reason. I guess it's like feeling we've lost something as a society. Gone are the times where you get off the plane and a friend or loved one is standing right there at the gate waiting for you. Now you have to walk back to the main concourse before you can see them. On the same token, I can't stand at the big glass window and watch the plane taxi up with a friend or loved one and feel that excitement and impatience that is hightened at that moment.

The airport always was a special place for me, probably because when I was very young I used to be put on a plane to visit family by myself. Not only that, it was often times the first place that I would get to see family that I hadn't seen in a year or more. I remember my excitement as my mom would point out the big shiny jet that my aunt and uncle was on, knowing that at any moment the door would open and out they would come. I remember standing there with a buch of other people, all of us with one intent: finding that person we had been waiting on... straining to see a glimpse of their face as they walk to us. Now, you wait in the main concourse, and it's not quite the same feeling. Can you believe that we are probably the last generation of people that will remember something like that?

For what it's worth, I still want to fly. It's still a magical place for me, maybe because while I'm in the air, the world changes and yet it's almost like time stands still on the plane. It's not like traveling on land or sea where you can really feel that you are moving from one point to another. When you get above the clouds it's like time stands still and yet, you get off the plane and you are in a different place. I guess that's what so magical about flying for me, and nothing can take that away from me.