Personal essays
On getting to where you’re going.
There
My mother-in-law used to tell everyone how much I love to fly.
I couldn’t quite get her to understand the difference between loving to be somewhere and loving to get there.
I hate getting there. It’s bad and it seems to be getting worse. For the most part things work out - which amazes me and makes me think that it’s a metaphor for the journey of life itself.
My last trip was to Calgary.
Because it’s an international trip, I get to use the United Lounge,
Cool. I can watch the World Cup final, board my flight, and change planes in Chicago.
It looks as if I have a little over an hour to make it from C29 where we land to the gate right next to it where the flight from Calgary is scheduled.
Except.
The World Cup final ends in a tie at the end of ninety minutes. My flight boards and I won’t see Spain beat Argentina 1-0. As I board I check my itinerary and the flight to Calgary now leaves from gate E16.
When we land I hurry from the very end of the C concourse to the middle where I take the escalator down, walk along two moving sidewalks, and take the escalater up to the B concourse. I rush to the end of B, wind my way over the connector to Terminal 2, and make my way to the end of the E terminal in time to board my plane.
I felt a bit of sadness as I passed by Garrett’s and realized I didn’t have enough time to get some of their popcorn. On the plus side, it was nice to get a walk in between flights.
Circling
Friday morning I’m headed back to Cleveland from Calgary.
I enter the United States at the Calgary airport so the tight connection in Chicago looks just doable. Again, I have a little over an hour between flights and again the gate I land at and the gate I take off from are right next to each other in Chicago.
Oops, nope there’s a change. I’m going to land at an E gate and take off from a C gate.
Wait a minute, there’s another change. I’m going to arrive at a G gate and take off from a C gate.
Then we do something I’ve never done before on a flight.
We circle the airport in Chicago twice.
“Oh come on Daniel,” you say, “you’ve never circled an airport?”
Well, that’s clearly not true. I’ve often been on flights that approach an airport and circle waiting for their turn to land.
This was different. We landed, taxied to our gate, and found it full.
The pilot stopped short of the terminal and announced that there was a plane at gate G 12 so we’d have to wait for them to push back but that should be soon.
Then he announced that actually, they couldn’t wait so we’d have to circle. And we drove past C (where my next flight was boarding in under an hour) all the way around the airport and back to G. The gate was still full so we drove past C again and all the way around the airport. We finally got off the plane ten minutes before my next flight would board and it was a twenty minute walk away.
Back
I got to my gate while group five was boarding. Got into my seat, turned off my phone when the door was closed, and didn’t listen to the recorded safety instructions.
Then the pilot made an announcement.
He was sorry but the crew before him had noted that there was a problem with the window and they’d thought it would be ok but it wasn’t so we had to get off the plane so they could fix it and listen for announcements of where the replacement plane would be.
I glanced at the United app. The flight status was “Deplaned”. It was 2:20 and the app said the next announcement would come at 3:00.
An announcement popped up asking me if I’d like to rebook my flight.
Did I? Didn’t I? There were three seats left on the 3:50 flight.
Sure, I decided and tapped on the flight. There were no seats left.
At 2:45 my phone pinged with a note that my flight was now leaving from the B concourse at 3:40 and we’d be boarding at 3:00.
Cool.
At 3:10 people were still getting off the incoming flight and our flight crew hadn’t arrived.
It didn’t matter. We were all on board by 3:40 and the plane pushed back on time.
Things had mostly worked out.
There were a ton of life lessons and metaphors in my trip to Calgary.
That said, my mother-in-law was wrong. I loved being in Calgary for the conference at the Zoo. I did not love getting there.
Essay from Dim Sum Thinking Newsletter 331. Read the rest of the Newsletter or subscribe