Matters of economy

I don’t think I’m imagining it. Seems like each time I get on an airplane, the seats get closer together. It’s a cost saving measure, no doubt, but it seems a little extreme. Now, as part of the preflight video, they demonstrated how passengers may exercise in flight by rotating the neck. Wasn’t my neck that was bothering me. It was my knees. There’s an Edgar Allen Poe story where the prisoner’s cell gets smaller each day and the walls eventually close in upon the protagonist. If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect that story was written following a tourist class flight. The airlines don’t pack passengers as tightly as the masters of slave ships used to (see below), but in my grimmer moments I consider things may be moving in that direction.

Above: "Floor plan" of a slave ship. Those little lines represent people.
Anyone remember the name of that Poe story?

Large airports are notoriously difficult to navigate. Beijing’s can be daunting, Kafkaesque, sometimes frightening; even Cincinnati’s can be tricky. With its seven separate concourses, JFK is labyrinthine, but I didn’t find it hard to make my way through it. In New York they expect you to say what you want with no preliminaries and follow their brusque instructions. I grew up there, and it’s easy for me. Something to be said for knowing the drill.

Above: a standing room only crowd at Kennedy airport. I did find a seat, eventually, but not immediately.

Ain't over 'til the Fat Lady boards the plane-- And even then...

My one suitcase is packed. Half what I'm bringing is presents-- T-shirts, ETSU bookmarks and key chains, tea towels embroidered here in the mountains. The Chinese are big gift givers, and it's best to reciprocate. I'm only taking one suitcase; I've packed far less clothing, and too many books. Heavy suitcases are usually opened by Homeland Security; this happens to me all the time. My stuff must be boring to go through.

How ever organized one is, getting away is not simple. Any time I go on campus, I learn that while I have done almost everything, I have not in fact done everything. Lord knows, I try. The voicemail is set; the virtual office assistant warns of delays on my email; I've emptied my mailbox in Room 401. But there's always something-- a form to sign, a receipt to turn in, a request for information about ESL to answer. And for better or worse, I can be tracked down on the other side of the world. So while I am going away, there actually is no getting away.

Above: Beware of stowaways!

Below: Rhododendron time at the Clemmer College of Education