#justtotalk

It was not long ago that I was scared of the “flushing” sound of the toilets on airplanes.  I tried not to go to the bathroom because I knew that every time I pushed the little “Flush here” button, I would be sent into a whirlwind of fear and hop off the ground, stupefied by the sound.  I hated that there was a brief pause after I touched the button.  Why did the toilet not flush immediately?  I came up with a solution; hold the door to the bathroom half way open, right before flushing, and the second you click the button, run away!  And this worked for me.

There’s something interesting about airplanes.  They bring a very diverse group of people together into, what are usually, tight quarters.  There’s always that guy whose knees touch the seat in front of him, that woman whose suitcase does not fit in the overhead compartment, that kid who does not smell quite clean, and that baby who will not stop crying.

Fortunately, having travelled the globe since I was a young lad, I have had the opportunity to spend many hours on planes.  I have met fine old chaps, women with accents, and kids who want you to play with them.  A few flights were especially memorable for the cast of characters that occupied my surroundings.  On a flight to Jordan with some of my classmates, crying babies with mothers and fathers who did not feel the need to, in any way, appease their child’s fits surrounded us.  There were at least five little rascals in the vicinity.  The babies cried all eighteen hours of the voyage.  One child decided it might be fun to stand up on his chair and yell at his mother, “I hate you.  I want you to leave.”  He yelled this for approximately one whole hour.  As great as the trip was, I must admit that the flights to and from Jordan were the worst flights I have ever been on. 

 On one flight returning from Europe, I was very tired and just wanted to sleep, but an elderly man sitting next to me began to strum up conversation.  “Ever used a compass,” he asked in a heavy French accent.  I replied no, which was clearly the wrong answer.  He was determined to teach me.  He pulled an antiquated compass out of his pocket, and began the lesson.  As interested as I was in learning to use a compass, I struggled to understand his English, and resorted to simply nodding and saying “yes” occasionally.

Returning from New York and sitting perfectly undisturbed, a woman tapped my shoulder.  “Look! Look out the window!  Can you see the Bellarmine football field?”  I could see it.  When I told her so, she began telling me all about her son who goes there.  She was a nice woman, so I sat there while she just talked and asked the occasional question of me. 

While travelling to India, something about the airplane had changed.  Perhaps I had not noticed before, but now this was so clear to me; the “flushing” sound of the toilet was quiet!  I did not have to prepare for my rapid escape from the bathroom to avoid being scared.  The toilet fluid was greener than it had previously been as well.  Also, strangely enough, the bathrooms were downstairs.  I think I will miss the scary “flushing” sound.  I cannot say that I ever overcame my fear.  Although the attributes of the plane itself may change, the people definitely do not.  I think some just want someone to chat with.  To talk to about superficial matters and other goings-on in their life.  For the few hours you are on a plane, everyone surrounding you has something in common—the destination.  The “why” is the unknown.