Jeffrey Tucker Knows Me Well, Although We Never Met

I have let many people know of the great discomfort I feel when I go to various airports. This is in spite of some of the airports lame attempts at putting up artwork, piping in elevator music, or renting out space to a (hyperbolically speaking) genocidal outfit like Cinnabon. I can’t look past the unfulfilled people working for the individual airlines and I sure as hell can’t look past George W. Bush’s greatest folly, TSA agents. The airport is a collection of misery without my adding to a collective anxiety and growing anti-social existence. It is a burden of work.

For every Appalachian-American or trailer park denizen who tells me that no one would have these problems if they didn’t decide to fly; I say “bollocks”. (Our government would start taxing non-flyers to make up the difference). Not everyone can live their lives in mediocrity and keep everyone with your last name in a small space. Some of us travel for training and some of us travel for work. Many of us have to hang on to distant connections with distant people. A few of us end up somewhere exciting; the airport is an unfortunate logistical necessity. I have used it a few times in my life.

I flew short distances to see family when I was a kid. I flew in puddle jumpers to bigger airports along my short-lived military journey. I flew in airplanes to fire fighting school. I have flown one way to get somewhere. I have mixed business with pleasure. But it became less pleasurable after 9-11, when the government got into the air security business. (I compare this to messing around with a cute sex worker and being forced into paying extra for a syphilitic pimp to join you). I took an exorbitant amount of risk flying in a hurtling metal tube, poorly maintained to begin with, but it is another thing if you add someone else that I am forced into doing business with.

The airport part of flying is a failed business altogether. Federal regulations, mostly to appease the paranoid and soccer moms, make it hard to make money at a relatively new jive ass money hustle. It steers away money that could be spent on customer experiences and buildings. (HSV and ATL both had many roof leaks and structural issues the last time I flew through their airports). Airport design could also change but with many alphabet soup government agencies involved, I wouldn’t hold my breath for fear of choking to death.

I was trying to avoid an abrupt ending but it came to my attention that most people conversing in airports are abrupt. These people, not unlike me, don’t enjoy their experiences. The customers/victims of the flying world are anxious to begin with, without a masquerade ball of law enforcement folks to egg them on. I feel bad that I don’t make connections with people. Especially folks like Jeffrey Tucker. I love his articles but I imagine that he gets as mad as I do and I sure as hell don’t want to bother him. (Even it was an opportunity to tell him how cool his article was).

One Hundred Exhortations: Why We Hate Airports

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