Since 9/11 there are very few passengers who can admit to flying worry free.  I, on the other hand, had preflight jitters from the first time I ever stepped onto a plane way back in the good old days when there were stewardesses instead of flight attendants and plastic food with real silverware was served on every flight.  My first flight was one that I will never forget.  I had just graduated from high school in New York City and was off to Kansas City to start my college career.  Yes, I was taking a jet to begin a new page in my life.  Well the take off went smoothly and we no sooner reached our designated altitude when we hit our first air pocket.  From that point on the stewardess and I bonded as we both held our barf bags in our hands

Today, I am Homeland Security’s greatest asset.  When I’m at the gate waiting to board I make sure that I am ever vigilant and I firmly clutch my carry-on bag in my hands while suffering whip lash as I am constantly search for any suspicious characters near the gate.  However, once on board I go into full investigative mode and I check out all of the passengers on the flight.  Thanks to the airlines I usually have at least a half an hour to complete my check list before we start to taxi down the runway. 

Early this winter I was flying from Fort Lauderdale to Nashville with a brief layover in Atlanta.  Half way through the flight to Atlanta the pilot made an announcement.  Alright, I was already white knuckling this flight…what message of vital importance was he going to tell us?  Oh, please God, don’t let it be a storm since the last thing I wanted to hear was that we were being diverted to some other airport.  Holding my breath I listened attentively as the pilot informed us of the football scores for San Francisco and Green Bay.  Did I care…heck no, however, now it would take at least 15 minutes before my heart beat switched from overdrive to normal.  As I left the plane in Atlanta all I could do was glare at the pilot as he wished us all a pleasant evening. 

Well, the fun of air travel started again when I quickly realized that I had to get from gate T 34 to gate C 5498 in 20 minutes. Call it what you like but I’m convinced that someone is having a laugh arranging the transfer gates as far away from each other as possible. With a deep breath and a prayer I clutched my carry-on bag and was off and running.  Whoops, a man stopped abruptly in front of me.  He literally put on the breaks and went from a brisk trot to a dead stop in 0 .02 seconds, with me practically flying over him without the help of a plane.  What happened?  I regained my sense of direction and determination not to miss my flight but wow now, not again!  As I passed one of the strategically placed bars in the airport I couldn’t help but notice that the football game was playing loud and clear.  Yep, another Mr. Passenger hearing some yelping and screaming from inside the bar found it necessary to abruptly stop and check out the play and the score.  From that point on for the next 15 minutes as I tried to race through the concourse I dodged men all over the airport who couldn’t resist the urge to see who was winning.  At the rate I was going all I needed was a football some padding and a linebacker to run interference for me to get to my gate and score my winning flight.

I made it to my gate with two minutes to spare.  I was the last one to board the plane and as I found my seat all I could hear were people on their cell phones yelling and whooping as someone from home was giving them a play by play description of the game.  Finally, we landed in Nashville and my hubby, The Crabby Old Guy, was there to meet me.  We picked up my luggage and walked to the car while I thanked The Good Lord that I arrived safely; I was looking forward to a peaceful ride home.  I got into the car and “Crabby” started the car and a screech came out of the radio…football…nooooo!  My calendar is already marked there is no way I’m putting my life in my hands and flying to New England on Super Bowl Sunday.