Muzak Rage

Every flight on Alaska Airlines, and there were at least four that went out while I was waiting for my flight, was a minimum of two hours late. I wonder that they even bother trying to keep a schedule. My plane was supposed to take off at 7:45pm. I’d checked in at 6:15 because that’s what the security people insisted was required. At 6:45 it was announced that the plane was still on the ground in Anchorage and had a mechanical problem that had to be fixed--oh BOY, I thought. Just what I need. A plane with a mechanical problem. Well, at least it would be "tested" on the flight back up to Fairbanks. Once again, they were having problems with the cargo doors. Yeah, having those blow off would be just great.....selfishly I thought it would be good if the doors would blow off on the trip UP to Fairbanks, not on the trip back to Anchorage again. Just as turbulence on an aircraft can make just about anyone suddenly very religious, pre-flight anxiety can make a person think perfectly evil thoughts. But the absolute worst part of waiting all those hours for the Alaska Airlines to get its shit together was the airport muzak. All instrumental versions of the strangest things, among them you can generally expect to hear Me and Bobby McGee, okay, and that super annoying Lollipop song. But an instrumental version of Hard to Handle by Black Crowes? I thought I was going to plotz.There were other songs, too, modern songs that I had to strain to recognize but when I did if my ears were eyes I would have dug them out of my head! Not only was the music living Hell to Real Musicians, but it was way too loud. It was so loud you simply could not ignore it. Eventually we got on the plane around 10 and arrived safely in Anchorage about 11. Only to be aurally assaulted yet again. It’s a conspiracy to create terrorism. If I’d had a gun I would have gone berserk and shot every speaker I could find. Beatles muzak, Stones muzak, some even done a la Kenny G. BARFO. I had two hours of that before I could leave again. Escaping from the Muzak Hell actually made getting on a plane start to look extremely desirable. I don't like flying. I'd much rather take a train. However time constraints require the use of the big birds and I can ride a plane without too much white knuckling these days. The trick is to get a very involving book, generally a mystery or thriller. By the time I boarded the flight to Seattle, I'd already read half of the novel I'd tucked into my bag. Three hours in a plane is torturous for anyone with legs longer than two feet. About halfway through the flight I had restless leg like you wouldn't believe. To make matters worse, it was 2:30 in the morning and everyone else was fast asleep, except for the guy in front of me who was actually watching the in-flight movie, Cheaper By the Dozen 2. I didn't want to pay five bucks for some crappy headphones I'd never use again, so I periodically watched the movie without sound, and broke the boredom by reading my book. I tried tensing my legs. Moving them up and down. Squeezing my feet together. Taking my shoes off. Putting my shoes on. Pointing my toes, twisting my ankles back and forth, wrapping my feet around each other, you name it, I tried it and my legs just jumped all over no matter what I did, and especially jumped around when I tried to relax them. I didn't sleep at all during the flight, though I would have dearly loved some rest. When the plane rolled into Seattle I was so happy to finally be able to get up and walk. It was great to find that the airline I flew into Seattle with had their gates in the same giant room as Southwest. I got off one plane and just walked across a room, handed the woman at the computer my printout of my confirmation and got my boarding pass. The muzak in Seattle was jazzy type muzak. It’s innocuous enough to ignore. They aren’t bombarding my memory with hideous remakes of even more hideous songs, such as Tie A Yellow Ribbon. Nope. To go with the Starbucks and the cool rain outside they have Extremely Boring Jazz. I love it. I can ignore it, and that’s a good thing. I got myself a breve, and treated myself to an apple fritter and enjoyed every forbidden morsel. I bought a copy of "The Da Vinci Code" because I was pretty sure that the book I had wouldn't last much longer. Besides, I need to read the book before I see the movie. A four hour flight came next, the last leg of the journey. I thought it was a nonstop, but they did land in Salt Lake City. Four more hours in the air! Oddly enough just knowing Southwest Airlines very well, having flown them many times and knowing their excellent record, I was able to calm the legs down. I still didn't sleep, but I drank more apple juice, ate more pretzels and peanuts, and finished the novel I'd started reading in Fairbanks.The intrepid woman reporter helped catch the bad guys and she got a pretty nice boyfriend in the bargain. As I sit here in Albuquerqe I've already started the "Da Vinci Code." It's warm here. And there's a dog who looks almost exactly like Sofia, fancy that!