Orange Suitcases, Freedom, and Airports by Liz Flaherty

I almost guarantee this will be late today. Yesterday was a travel day, and as much as I like traveling, it kinda wears me out. This week, going to Georgia to see a friend I hadn't seen in way too long, was the first plane trip I'd taken by myself in a long time. I learned some things. 

Atlanta's airport does not improve. It only gets bigger and its food more expensive. I still like its train that will take you from terminal to terminal, but if you're going to take off or land from the far end of the concourse, it is indeed really far. Somewhat like walking from Denver to Peru only more crowded, sweatier, and much louder. While the personnel is efficient and sometimes very kind, they are rushed and don't meet your eyes. It is, and I realize how ridiculous this sounds, kind of a lonely place to be. 

The other side of the Atlanta Airport coin on this trip was meeting a pretty blonde from Jacksonville, Florida on her way to Indianapolis. She'd missed her connection (very easy to do) and had been sitting at gate T6 hoping to catch a flight. It had been five hours, and she was still friendly and cheerful. I don't know her name, but I hope she's having a good time in Indy.

I learned that I need to recognize my own limitations. I try to never check my orange suitcase on wheels that my daughter-in-law gave me years ago, because I'm always anxious to get home, but after having to ask someone to put it into the overhead a few times, I've decided I'd better give in. I'm grateful for the help, but I hate having to ask for it. I think it's another weakness in my character. I have a lot of those. 

On flights where the attendants have time to get from one end of the plane to the other, Delta gives you these teeny, tiny bags of Sun Chips that make you want to run into Sam's Club and see if you can buy a barrel of them. Crack in a bag. Not that I've ever tried crack anywhere, but those are so good!

We talk so much about loss of freedom. The haters want to be free to hate, the shooters want to be free to shoot, 1st Amendment never-mind-the-intenters want to be free to lie, alternative genders want to be free to be, lots and lots of people want freedoms only for their chosen demographics. And everyone feels as if their own personal freedoms are being taken away.

I don't know. Maybe they are in some cases. However, watching people in airports, especially ones as big as Atlanta and as small as Columbus, Georgia, reminds you of how many freedoms we retain. I took off my shoes twice, showed ID three or four times, and got to say, "Hi, how you doing?" to a bunch of people doing their jobs. Three guys helped me with my suitcase, a hotel driver picked me up in the drop-off zone when I went to the wrong place--loading my suitcase into his van and then into my car with a smile and the urge to be careful on the road. 

Would I rather have everyone meet my eyes and want to have conversation? Sure would. But at the end of a week when I got to see a dear friend, got to have dinner and fail miserably at trivia with some of my family, and got to come home to my favorite place on earth...well, I'm feeling pretty grateful. And pretty free.

Happy Independence Day. Wishing you gratitude, celebration, and kindness. Be nice to somebody.