Here’s where we are, as a society. We absolutely don’t question the loss of the most basic human kindness and civility. It’s now the exception rather than the rule and any evidence of it is met with paranoia and suspicion.

If you doubt me, just go to your local airport, hop on a plane and go somewhere. Anywhere. The destination isn’t the point. It’s getting there. It used to be half the fun. Remember that?

Oh boy, I do. Seriously. I remember long road trips and sticky car seats. I remember no air conditioning. I remember resting my head on the open window, the air rushing through my hair. The heat of the sun beating down on my forehead. I remember watching the world rush past my eyes. Trees and cars. Mountains and rivers. Cheap and tacky tourist traps. Beautiful spectacles of nature. I remember the thrill of a flight. The romantic notions I had. The exotic feel of it all. The luxury! I remember feeling so privileged. I remember reading books and stretching the limits of my imagination inventing new license plate games. I remember actual conversations with my family. Discussions. Debates. Arguments. Jokes. Silent Treatments — without the aid of a game boy or an iPod.

And that’s the thing. I saw this comedy thing with Bill Maher. He made some joke about minivans now, how they all come with a dvd player standard in the headrests of the front seats. His punchline was something like, “Because, I shouldn’t have to be forced to talk to YOU, dad.” and isn’t that just a little bit like the truth? Not that we’re so innocent. Dad could spend a little less time on his cell phone and a little more time talking to Junior. But who am I to preach?

There’s all this stuff, it insulates us. It keeps us separate from everyone else. What do we care that what we say or what we do that might be rude or even downright hurtful to someone else? How does that negatively impact us?If the answer is not at all, then what are you all up in our grill for? This is me having a stern argument with myself. I don’t expect it to make any sense to you.

The point is this, I went to Santa Fe this weekend. It’s nice and all, but I expected it to be….uh, I don’t know. Nicer? It was sort of a bleak place is all. There was this weird division of classes there. There was outer Santa Fe which was pretty rundown and ugly. There were a LOT of homeless people and just a very general air of desperation.

By the time we got to our hotel however, the scenery had changed. The buildings were nicer and the streets were clean. I saw only a couple homeless people and instead there were throngs of disgusting rich old fucks walking around in their stupid hippie outfits. They wore their turquoise jewelry and over-tan skin and shopped in the trendy art boutiques to support the “local” heritage. Holy hell, I’m telling you. You could choke on the hypocrisy in this place.

It was like this place, the part of Santa Fe they call the “Historic District”, was this capitol of a poor, third world country and they were the benevolent (yet secretly evil and exploitive) dictators to the poor masses who resided beyond its walls. Beyond its walls being the rest of Santa Fe, of course.

So take that for what it’s worth. But Santa Fe isn’t the point either.

Look, I realize this post is already three days long, but whose session is this? Yours or mine?

The point is, I went to Santa Fe and I had to travel by plane to get there. As I have well learned, travel by plane should be avoided at all costs. Let me just sum up for you how horrible an experience this one turned out to be:

1.) Up at 5 a.m. to catch first leg of flight. Out the door. Everything is going fine.

2.) Horrible rain.

3.) Horrible traffic.

4.) Construction.

5.) Am now worrying about missing my flight.

6.) Finally arrive at airport.

7.) Construction at airport.

8.) Short line at ticket counter. (very rude agent)

9.) Long line through security. (very rude agents. plural.)

10.) Finally make it to gate.

11.) Flight is delayed due to heavy winds.

12.) Flight is still delayed. I am now worried about connections.

13.) Flight arrives, we pile in.

14.) HORRIBLE turbulence.

15.) Pilot tries to land, but can’t. HORRIBLE turbulence.

16.) Pilot tries again to land, but can’t. HORRIBLE turbulence.

17.) Pilot tries a third time to land, but can’t. HORRIBLE turbulence.

18.) Pilot announces after flying around in the air in the HORRIBLE turbulence for twenty minutes that he will have to contact air traffic control for alternate flight path as this one has some HORRIBLE turbulence.

19.) Fly around another twenty minutes until Pilot announces that he has to fly around the airport again and then we can land. Am now DEFINITELY concerned about connections.

20.) We finally land, but I come shockingly close to losing my lunch from the last 3 weeks.

21.) We rush off the plane but some freaked out woman goes rushing out to the terminal and trips an alarm. The door closes shut and we are now locked in the long walkway from the plane to the terminal. Whatever that thing is called.

22.) I don’t want to name any airline names so I’ll just say a Schmelta Airlines Agent OPENS THE DOOR to tell us that she’s getting someone who can COME OPEN THE DOOR. Seriously. Then she closed the door again and left us standing in there. Good old Schmelta Airlines. They LOVE to fly. And it shows!

23.) I run at breakneck speeds to catch my plane. They are holding the plane for me. Thank god.
24.) Okay they weren’t actually holding the plane for me. They can’t take off because of the wind.

25.) I sit on the plane for 35 minutes with no explanation or announcement.

26.) Someone finally complains.

27.) We get an announcement.

28.) They announce that it’s windy.

29.) We leave nearly an hour late.

30.) We make up time because of the tailwinds.

31.) I arrive in New Mexico and I turn on my cell phone. It rings.

32.) It’s Matt telling me the house we really,really,really,really wanted was sold. To someone else. Not us. We weren’t the ones who would be living in it.

33.) I said some very un-christian things in a very loud volume in a very crowded place.

34.) I cried for five minutes at the baggage claim.

the weekend happened.

35.) Back at the airport there was a lady in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank. I watched an agent wheel her to my gate.

36.) And leave her there.

37.) The plane was boarding and no one helped her.

38.) No one.

39.) She tried pushing the wheelchair and the oxygen tank.

40.) I grabbed my bags and put her tank in her lap and pushed her to the agent at the front desk. She looked perturbed when I insisted on her attention.

41.) The flight was long and boring.

42.) I was all the way at the back and I waited until the plane was almost empty to get off. I was too tired to fight a crowd.

43.) The 91 year old oxygen tank lady was back there too.

44.) They effing FORGOT HER. AGAIN.

45.) I asked her if someone was coming for her. She was scared.

46.) I went up front and got an attendant.

47.) They came rushing back and I went to get my stuff.

48) They pushed me out of the way. I forgot my ipod on the seat.

49.) I didn’t discover this until the next flight. Asked the flight attendant about it. She said, “Oh yeah. If they find it they’ll turn it over.”

50.) The guy next to me laughed and remarked that I would never see it again. He looked at me as though I were crazy. I asked him if he thought I should have just left her there. His response to me was, “They would have found her eventually.”

Eventually? Like when? When they were sweeping up napkins and tossing the half-read issue of USA Today left in the seatback? SHE’S A PERSON. Not leftover refuse.

51.) When we landed I had to fill out a lost item report. If I understand this correctly, I’m supposed to trust that Schmelta Airlines will return to me the iPod if they find it — but they couldn’t even keep track of a living, breathing person?

52.) When I got my bag and headed home I couldn’t find my parking ticket.

53.) When you can’t find your parking ticket, you don’t leave the garage. Unless you pay them an amount equal to one year’s salary.

54.) Although it was now well after midnight at the end of the best weekend of my life and I had been looking for a half hour, I still can’t find the ticket.

55.) I found the ticket.

56.) I paid the ticket, left the airport and drove home in the rain to fall into bed exhausted just after 2 a.m.

I wish I could say this is an anamoly. I wish I could say nothing like that has every happened to me before. But sadly, this is becoming more and more common in all my travels. What the hell ever happened to that half of the fun? Who took it, what did they do with it and what do we have to do to get it back? Come on, cut me some slack here. Enough is enough.