A fanciful yet hopeful midday literary divertimento
Our plane had been in the air for a little under an hour when my eldest son turned to me and implored “How much longer till we get there, Dad?”
“It’s going to be a while, son. We’ve barely started on the way to London and from there we’ve got to transfer to another plane, then it’s probably another six hours or so”.
It’s funny how little things have actually advanced, I thought to myself. Fifteen years ago, it was easy to think that we would have “fixed” air travel by now. We thought that we’d be able to hop around the globe in a matter of mere hours on supersonic transports. After all, it can’t be that hard, can it? Evidently the major air carriers have never seen it that way – we travelers are still stuffing ourselves into oversized metal tubes and flinging ourselves into the atmosphere at subsonic speeds, content that we’ll get to our destinations eventually.
Some things have changed, though. No one seems to fly for business reasons much these days. Since the US gov’t declared access to the Old Internet to be a public necessity and a right, most of the rest of the civilized world followed suit and “utilitized” Internet access. The so-called “Bandwidth Wars” ensued and the subsequent revisions of the Internet provided more downstream capabilities for the Average Joe Citizen than they knew what to do with. In this environment, most businesses could no longer countenance sending representatives on travel, either for training or for customer meetings, instead relying heavily upon video conferencing. So now the skies belong largely to pleasure seekers and vacationers.
Suddenly, my cochlear implant sprang to life, jolting me out of my reverie. A quick glance at the CallerID in my glasses’ PeripheralHUD told me my wife was on the line. “Good,” I thought to myself. “That means she and the girls made it to London okay.” The girls had always wanted to see Germany and, since I couldn’t get enough time off from work and my son had lacrosse camp, she had taken the girls and was to meet us in the UK for the rest of the vacation. I tapped my temple to “pick up” the phone.
“Hey babe, just wanted to let you know that we made it to Heathrow in one piece ,” said my wife, sounding as though she were somehow speaking from somewhere in between my ears. I’ll never get used to these implants. “Good. Will and I will see you in a bit. I love you. Tell the girls I’ve missed them like crazy these past two weeks.”
We said our goodbyes and the line went dead as my wife hung up. “That was your mother checking in. She and the girls will be waiting for us when we transfer planes,” I told my son. We sat back and decided to tune in to the in-flight movie – it was some teenie bopper flick starring Apple Paltrow (she took her mother’s name after the divorce but unfortunately got her father’s looks, apparently) as the rebellious adopted daughter of President Reese Witherspoon. Elijah Woods had been cast as the First Gentleman, but he didn’t look the part. 40 years old and he still looks like a teenager. Most people’d consider that a blessing, but I guess it’s a curse if you’re an actor looking to be taken seriously.
Soon after the film ended, one of the stewardesses turned on the PA system and addressed us in a clipped British accent (obviously a fake one – no one’s talked that way since Parliament banned the King’s Accent along with the King’s English. Wouldn’t want anyone feeling looked down upon, after all. I guess the stewardesses just do it to seem retro.). “Ladies, gentlemen and transgendered persons, I’d like to thank you for choosing Virgin Atlantic airlines for your trans-Atlantic travel needs. We know you have a choice in who you choose to do business with and we appreciate your patronage. For those of you traveling to London proper, your baggage claim will be A-7. For those of you continuing on to other flights, please note your connecting gates on the screens located in the seatbacks in front of you. Also, for those of you continuing on to Baghdad, tourism capital of the Middle East and home to the famed Archives of Babylon and the new Hanging Gardens mega resort and casino, please note that your flight has been delayed for an hour or so, so there’s no need for you to rush…”.
“Drat,” I thought. “Humanity’s been flying for over a hundred years now and we still can’t get this right. Guess I’d better call the Bush Memorial Suites and let them know we’ll be checking in late.”
