In Flight
By Mitch Berg
So I saw my eldest, Bun, off at the airport today. She’s going on a school trip to Europe. Her first real trip anywhere without a parent.
I thought “I hope those nineteen f***ing hijackers are burning in the most dismal pit in hell” for making it impossible to walk to the gate to see people off anymore – to watch them get on the plane, see ’em taxi out to the runway and lift off and will them safely to their destination through the sheer strength of your own prayers and wishes until they disappeared into the distance, and miles beyond.
Not that she’d want that; she got on the plane with all of her friends – 13 of ’em – so having Dad around would have probably been a buzzkill.
So be it. But my libertarian side came under sustained, determined attack by my Dad side when I saw her disappear through the TSA line. “Bring on the sniffing dogs, the intrusive searches, all the scanning and sniffing that a competent security apparatus can do. Hell, let them be competent. Profile everyone getting on back through five generations of anscestry; slap anyone who squawks about it in cuffs; hell, I’ll cover your back and groin-kick any ACLU weenies who show up to bitch at us”.
“Stuff Bun’s plane with vacationing SAS troopers on their way back from Vegas, and rugby-playing flight attendants and a squad of Air Marshals and a bunch of El Al security guys on the way back to Israel from the International Security-Guys-who-can-smell-gelginite-like-bloodhounds-and-can-rip-arms-out-of-their-sockets Convention – and toss in a few Dutch documentary film-makers for good measure.”
“Give them a Sully Sullenberger for a pilot, someone who could make an F-16 sit on a telephone wire and sing Aida back in the day and hasn’t lost a friggin’ thing since then.”
No, I wasn’t asking too much, and no, it wasn’t easy.
Having lots of “guy time” with Zam will help, of course.
But it’s going to be a long twelve days.
March 25th, 2010 at 4:42 pm
You can always get a “guest pass” at the counter. We do it all the time. A bit of inconvenience, but we have never been hassled nor denied once.
That said, last time was the very last time our kids flew as “unaccompanied minors”. Delta charged us $100 each way for a non-stop flight where we saw our kids to the gate and they were picked up at the destination gate by a family member! Effing bastards! The freaking return ticket itself (from MSP to NYC) cost $230!
March 25th, 2010 at 5:32 pm
“(from MSP to NYC)”
A return ticket you say; no wonder why you are just plain angry. 😉
March 25th, 2010 at 10:15 pm
On Sunday my sixteen year old daughter is going with her Girl Scout troop to Miami to board a cruise liner for a Caribbean cruise. They are bringing books and school supplies to a school in Jamaica. It’s part of getting the GS equivelant of the Eagle Scout from the BSA.
I sympathize entirely, and just have to trust God and her common sense for her safety and my own sake.
That said, a lot of prayer will be said for the next ten days or so. May the Lord protect and keep her and bring her back to you safe and sound.
March 26th, 2010 at 12:28 am
All three of you will be in my prayers; that you don’t go nuts worrying, that Zam doesn’t drive you nuts with that stinky body spray while you are enjoying father son time, and for Zam that she is the responsible young woman you KNOW you put on the plane.
I suppose this wouldn’t be the time to reminisce about a trip to Greece, where I was bored with the usual tourist thing, and my last night in Athens I wanted to spend with Greeks, so I accepted the invitation of our hotel owner and his friend to explore the Plaka – the ancient part of the city – and ended up staying out all night? Which sounds like it was pretty wild except that the hotel owner was 20 years (at least) older than I was, as were his friends, and except for a very modest amount of Ouzo and some wine, it was more like having an entire platoon of very respectful and polite baby sitters / body guards who didn’t speak a lot of English. I got to see a lot of Athens, and stay out late (ok, 5 a.m.) but I don’t think I have ever actually been so excessively safe in my entire life as I was during that particular little adventure. The closest thing to anything scary the entire night was the somewhat irritated expression on my father’s face when I walked into the hotel lobby, as he pointedly looked at his watch.
Bun will have some modest adventures, and use good judgement, and meet interesting people, and come home to you safe and sound except for her world being a little bit bigger afterwards, and she will be a bit more grown up than when she left, but in a good way.
Twe;ve days isn’t really that terribly long; I hope it won’t seem too long to you while she is away.My heart goes out to you because no matter how good a head she has on her shoulders you will worry.
March 26th, 2010 at 12:31 am
Kermit, I think all daughters worry their fathers. Positive thoughts to you that your daughter has a very safe but wonderful time, and returns tired and happy. And that you are none the worse for worry!
March 26th, 2010 at 7:30 am
Must have been a long bike ride back home, without her.
My daughter turns 30 this year. But she’s still my baby girl. That never changes, Mitch. Never.
.
March 26th, 2010 at 9:20 am
Thanks, Doggie. We all know it’s a parents job to worry, and a father does worry just that little bit more about a daughter. I have a son too, and that is true in my case.
March 26th, 2010 at 10:36 am
Say deegee, do you find that Ouzo mixes with kool-aid as well as Victory gin?
March 26th, 2010 at 11:59 am
JPA: I will have to remember that for next time. Thankx!
Kerm: Praying your daughter has a safe and fun trip, too.
DG: Thanks! And yeah, I’ll tolerate the slight, funny threadjack 🙂
Nate: Not many things’ll make me miss a bike ride on a day like yesterday. Needing to race to TCIAP is one of ’em. Thanks.
Swfitee: Mmmm. Ouzo. Lunchtime!
March 26th, 2010 at 3:19 pm
Um Mitch, is Bun by any chance going to Amsterdam this trip?
Nah, I won’t tell you that story until she gets back…. seriously – she’ll be ok. I hope the Athens story distracted you just a little from being worried, and you are now that much closer to her coming home.
Swiftee, ouzo tastes a bit like licorice or anise. You may enjoy cool aid, I don’t, or gin, but I’m fairly sure there is no flavor of any soft drink mix that goes with ouzo.
March 26th, 2010 at 6:16 pm
What should really piss you off even more is that the TSA merely gives the illusion of safety. As someone who flys weekly, more often than not the ID screener acts like he’s a greeter at Wal-Mart (hey, good mornin’ “S”, howzit goin’? – the third line is movin’ quicker today – have a good flight) The agents waiting around for a pat down search request act more like teenage parking valets than law enforcement officials (when you gettin’ off Bob? Oh I gots just another hour to go). And they are inconsistent from city-to-city (some places you have to show your boarding pass as you exit the metal detector, some you don’t – some make you put your shoes on the belt seperately, others allow you to put them in a bin with your other gear). Admittedly that there haven’t been any major attacks on the air transport system since the TSA took over is a sign that despite their sometimes Keystone Kops ways, they are effective. But, as a frequent commenter here who wears large floppy shoes, a flower in his lapel that squirts water and has an unhealthy predilection for young boys (unhealthy for the young boys that is) and newly poured basement floors might say – “once again, stupid wingnuts claiming attacks haven’t happened since 9/11 because of Shrub W. McHitlerburton policies must be people of faith to believe that that idiot stopped anything.”
March 26th, 2010 at 6:27 pm
Nope. No Amsterdam. A shame , too – I loved A-Dam.
A little Ouzo might go well with root beer. It’s a lot like Yeni Raki, which is I suspect Turkish for “ouzo”. I used to have a bottle of it. An acquired taste.
March 29th, 2010 at 4:18 pm
While returning from my Italy trip this weekend, we flew from Rome to Amsterdam, then caught a flight to MPLS. My wife thought it would be nice to buy some duty-free booze at the Da Vinci airport while we waited. So we had a bottle of wine and Sambuca in the duty-free sealed bag.
Which was fine, until we went through a 2nd security check at our gate in Amsterdam, where the duty free booze bought in Rome and carried on a Rome-Amsterdam flight was then deemed dangerous for a Amsterdam-MPLS flight. Not to mention the bottle of water my wife bought inside the Amsterdam airport that was taken away. That would have been nice to have during our 3 hour delay on the tarmac.