From the Crow’s Nest
by CLINT YOUNTS
After my recent failure at investigative reporting, I have been assigned to a different desk in the newsroom. Actually, it’s not so much a desk but a large stack of old newspapers and a cardboard box, and it’s not even in the news room but out back next to the dumpster. But, hey, at least I didn’t get fired for causing a stink in my last two columns. So now, my editor wants me to write a travel column since I seem to travel more than your average redneck with a moderately large vocabulary. And since I just returned from a wedding in one of the Carolinas, I reckon I am qualified to report on modern air travel.
First of all, if you have to travel by air, I recommend doing so by an airplane. That said, I must recommend flying on Southwest Airlines. Unfortunately, Southwest does not fly into every U.S. city, forcing you to choose other airlines that will squeeze your wallet and your butt into their uncomfortable seats. I won’t mention the airline that toted me and my girls across the Mississippi delta into Atlanta and points beyond, but it was not Southwest. The airline we chose believes all passengers should pay $25 for each bag checked, searched and abused. I despise this practice of charging for luggage and believe it is fly-way robbery. I thought about wearing four days’ worth of clothes for the flight and not check any bags, but I was worried about missing my flight if security demanded a cavity search. So I spent $75 on a one-way ticket for two suitcases and an old Wild Turkey box held together by baling wire and duct tape. For that kind of money, I could’ve bought myself a real suitcase.
Speaking of airport security, they sure have some fancy gadgets nowadays. There’s a conveyor belt that hauls your private belongings, including your shoes, through an x-ray machine. I’m not sure what I had stepped in recently, but my daughter claims she watched my Tony Lamas on the screen, and luminescent green specks emanated from the soles. Now, I didn’t witness this phenomenon because some nice fella offered me a free chest x-ray. I don’t know what that has to do with security, but that machine picked up a rib fracture and killed a tick in my belly-button.
After putting my boots back on and tying my belt, we went in search of some good airport food. There was a wide variety of eatin’ places, but I suspect they were for the rich folks. I was looking for a donut and a cup of coffee for under $3, but I’d have had to walk to Elroy for a cheap breakfast. Just because people bought a ticket for an airplane ride doesn’t mean they’re willing to buy a dry muffin and coffee for 20 bucks. I was starting to see a pattern at that airport.
Once I boarded the plane, I quickly noticed a few things that have changed over the years. Flight attendants no longer have to be pretty, slim gals with a pleasant smile. No, sir! Apparently, this certain airline will hire all shapes, sizes and sexes to tell you get your legs out of the aisle and to put your shirt back on. Hey, I’ve got some mighty long legs, and that x-ray machine made my back hair fall out and it was itching like crazy. If I’m going to be crammed in that plane like steer at the Lockhart auction for three hours, I was going to get comfortable, dadgummit!
We had to change planes in Atlanta, and what a site that was! I had never heard so many different languages under one roof since shopping at the Outlet Mall. And there were several shops in every terminal that sold Rosetta Stone software for world travellers. I thought about buying one so I wouldn’t look stupid ordering my lunch at Panda Express, but decided to practice my universal sign language by pointing at something that looked like beef, and smiling.
Another gripe I have about flying is when you finally reach your destination, you need some sort of ground transportation. Well, being computer-savvy and all, I had reserved a rental car on-line through Avis. I was allowed to choose the car I wanted, and being a long-legged Texan (with no back hair any more, by the way), I selected a Chevy Malibu. Chevrolets are made by Americans for Americans, you know, but at the Avis counter in the Charlotte airport, I was upgraded to a brand new Hyundai. I’ve never been in a Hyundai but I figured it’d get better gas mileage, so I agreed to try it.
After cramming my daughters’ luggage and my badly dented Wild Turkey box into the trunk, I discovered Hyundais are built by Koreans for Koreans. After spending 10 minutes trying to squeeze my 6’5” frame into the driver’s seat with the help of a crowbar and a quart of motor oil, I was behind the wheel of a 2012 Hyundai Sonata. Since we had only a two-hour drive ahead of us, I figured I could handle having my legs folded like a cheap lawn chair. Besides, I was able to put some toothpaste on my knees and brush my teeth while I drove.
Our short stay in North Carolina was great, and I thoroughly enjoyed the weekend, but on Sunday morning, we had to return to the airport and repeat the whole tedious process of air travel. Another $25 for each piece of luggage. Another round of radiation going through security. Another three hours of flying the friendly skies in a Pringles can. Finally getting back to Austin was a huge relief. Back to Texas where there’s open space, fresh air and recognizable languages, and that was just in our Chevy Tahoe.
And now, a week later, I’m back at the Crow’s Nest. My legs have finally straightened out and my back hair is starting to grow back. I still have green specks on my boots. I reckon air travel wouldn’t be so bad if those planes had more leg room and served Lone Star beer with those peanuts. I’m not sure when I’ll fly again, probably when Maw talks me into going to Las Vegas again. I am checking though to see if I can go through that x-ray machine again for free. I just found another tick.
Clint Younts says he’s almost tick free, but after spending so much time in the pastures, we all suspect that one has dug right through to his brain.
