After spending 25 1/2 hours yesterday traveling, we've finally returned. And I've come to the definite conclusion that I hate flying. Not because I'm afraid of heights. Not because I'm claustrophobic. It's about one thing... control.
When you buy a plane ticket, you not only hand over your money. You also relinquish control of your life for a period of time. Getting to the airport 2 hours early. Standing in numerous lines. Subjecting yourself and your belongings to searches based on ever-changing standards. Turning over your belongings to someone else, hoping that they arrive at your final destination with you. Only having a few expensive choices if you want something to eat or drink. Sitting in a specific seat and only being allowed to get up at certain times. I could go on and on.
I know what most of your are probably saying. "Stop your bitching, Gus. If you don't like the rules, don't play the game." Unfortunately, I don't have a choice. I'm limited by 1 thing - money. If I had endless amounts of it, I wouldn't need a job and therefore, wouldn't be limited by the number of vacation days I've accumulated. I could take my sweet-ass time driving to Vegas or Cincy or California. I could also buy a boat and sail to Europe, Australia and Hawaii. I would be in control and man, would that be cool.
Alas, the money tree doesn't grow in my back yard (hell, I don't even have a back yard) so I'm left to dream... and fly.