Looking at airport folks
Steve Martaindale

Steve Martaindale is a self-syndicated columnist. Write him at penmanmailsteve@ yahoo.com.

"Everyone is strange in an airport," my wife observed. "Everyone."

She felt qualified to make such an observation. We were hanging out in our third airport terminal of the day, waiting for yet another connecting flight.

Waiting is the key. That flight's departure would be twice delayed before taking off on the longest leg of our trip.

In other words, there was plenty of people-watching time … world-class people watching.

Maybe it's because you have a conglomeration of people from all over the country, with a generous seasoning of folks from faraway lands.

Choices of attire contribute greatly to what makes people-watching particularly interesting at an airport, and I'm not referring to the small number of people wearing what might be termed traditional dress.

There was a time, I understand, when people dressed up for travel. A fair number still do, such as the young woman in high heels and a classy dress. Leah said the denim jacket is currently in style, too. I couldn't help but think about how uncomfortable she must be for the sake of fashion.

Most people do strive for comfort, it appears, as well as wearing items that can easily get them past security checks. Sandals and plastic shoes are quite popular. We all understand dressing down for a long flight.

However, the man pulling up his shirt while stretching and scratching his tummy … well, we just didn't need to see that.

Buckle up

We are airborne again and I'm scratching this out with pen and paper, just to prove I can still write the old-fashioned way.

Leah and I and a few hundred comrades in self-abuse are better than halfway through a 14-hour flight, Los Angeles to Sydney, crammed into wee seats. Even my 5-foottall wife is complaining about leg room.

The flight, thus far, has been rather uneventful after starting 90 minutes late. A fellow passenger says it is a far cry better than the previous night, when they were about two hours out and had to return to LA for some problem. He's already running a day late on his travels.

We were maybe a few hundred miles into the Southern Hemisphere when the captain ordered everyone to their seats and to buckle up because of a patch of turbulence.

However, while the plane rocked a bit, flight attendants started passing out a midflight snack, rolling those big carts down the aisles, pouring hot coffee … what's wrong with this picture?

Passengers are told to buckle up for their own safety, to keep from bouncing around the cabin. The flight attendants go about their business - projectiles waiting to happen. Yes, flight attendants, the highly trained people charged with protecting all of us in case of a problem, will be the first to go if something bad happens.

The fact you're reading this is proof that we made it, without even a coffee burn.

Now we're off to tackle driving through city roundabouts and the narrow mountain road between Woodenbong and Rathdowney, while remembering to stay on the left side of the road.