Road Worrier (Part Two)

My traveling anxiety exists in several levels, with the final level being zero - which I suppose is the ideal level. However, the overall average level of anxiety is many levels above zero, and therein lies the problem.

The highest level exists shortly after I commit to the trip. Signing-into Expedia and booking the trip are exciting, since I get to choose when I leave and what sort of vehicle I am renting.  Shortly thereafter, however, I get the shivers thinking about all of the things I have to do before I leave, and how I have to arrange my schedule and alter my lifestyle to accommodate this trip.

The main problem with having an ordered life is finding out what to do with the things that are part of that ordered life once the order is changed.  Perhaps I would be less anxious if I traveled for work frequently, or had some sort of oddball lifestyle that gave me the opportunity to travel more than once or twice a year for something other than work.  The only thing that lessens my anxiety is the fact that I am usually not paying for the travel. It’s almost always for work, and as such, I carry less concern over the difference over a non-stop flight versus layovers, or the cost of parking.  In the long run, it’s not worth agonizing over.  Usually, the hotel accommodations are part of the trip, so I don’t have to worry about how that works out.  The only issue is the booking of travel, and I have only had one issue with that:

Last year, I went to Alabama for a workshop.  Since I was staying longer than what the workshop entitled, I booked the airfare separately than the rental car.  I booked the Philadelphia-to-Birmingham airfare easily.  Separately, I booked a rental car in Birmingham.  Looked cheap, and the fact that it was a manual transmission neither concerned me nor bothered me, as I was looking forward to driving a manual transmission car for a week.

Once I got to the rental counter in Birmingham, the clerk looked a few times at her computer and my booking reservation - back and forth enough to worry me - and then finally tell me, "Your rental car is in Birmingham, England."  Ooops.  The ensuing struggle between their customer service and myself was enough to make me pay more attention to which country I am in when I reserve a rental car.  Fortunately, for my next trip to Alabama earlier this year, I flew to and from Nashville - and there is no Nashville, England - so my rental car reservation was filled smoothly.  We learn from our mistakes, right?

My anxiety level decreases gradually. From the high of booking to a lower level of leaving well in advance of my scheduled time, to getting to my car-park, to getting me from car-park to airline check-in, to checking-in my bags, and getting through airport security.  Once I am through security and near by boarding area, my anxiety level decreases to almost zero.  I have taken the responsibility away from ME and transferred it to THEM, and I now know that there is nothing I can do that will further enhance my experience.  Once something is out of my control, I no longer have any worry over it. Strange maybe, but me.

I am crazy-early for everything I do: Work, entertainment, travel ... whatever. I can’t stand being late for anything - or even on time. I want to limit as much stress from my life as possible, and being early means that I will have one less thing to worry about. As a result, for my latest flight from Phoenix to Philadelphia that left at 9:58am, I arrived at the airport at 6:30am. I thought nothing of having almost four hours to kill, and in fact, reveled in it.

Once I am on the plane, the only issue I’ll have is whether I can get through the flight without having to get up to urinate. For a flight to Birmingham, that’s a cinch. Anything longer than three hours, and we may have an issue.  I hate asking anyone to get up, so I request an aisle seat wherever I go - sporting events, concerts, movies, etc., and I can relax a little if I know I won’t have to ask someone to get up who may be sleeping or involved in some media that I may be interrupting.  "Sorry, but I have to perform a natural bodily function. Hope you don’t mind," would be a good way to start that request, but I don’t want to get into an argument in a confined space 30,000 feet above the ground, so I deal with it the best I can.

For someone as neurotic and anxious as I, the flight doesn’t bother me in the least. As I believe, once something is out of my control, I have no worries. Either the plane crashes or it lands safely. It’s out of my hands - literally.  What surprises me a little is how noisy it is. Our experiences of TV and movies tells us that plane travel is silent enough to have quiet conversations with your seat mates, and pick out subtle noises.  The fact is, it’s a high-decibel experience, and you’re likely to have an easier time talking to someone in a bar or small concert setting than aboard a flight. Don’t believe what you see on TV.

We used to get meals on long flights. Now, they charge for "fresh" meals, so you’re better off having a big meal in the airport. I’d guess that’s what has inspired the glut of airport eateries.  Overall, it makes me feel better about arriving four hours early for a flight.  It gives me time to have a nice meal and use the rest room three or four times before takeoff.  In fact, for my last trip from Phoenix to Philly, I wound up with at least two hours to sit down and have a nice breakfast.  The five-hour flight was filled hunger-free with only Fred Stoller’s Kindle Single book "Five Minutes to Kill" which oddly took me WAY more than five minutes to read - thankfully. Well done, Fred.  Getting lost in something is a great way to stop thinking about how long it’s been since I last ate or urinated.

The anxiety level goes back up once the plane gets on the ground and I have to get my luggage and find my rental car or shuttle. That responsibility goes from me to them, and that’s the problem.  Perhaps I don’t trust people enough?
I don’t believe that my life matters as much to me as it does to them. That is certainly a truth, It’s also a problem.

NEXT: Getting Around and Getting Along.

Road Worrier (Part One)

Twice in the last month, I have traveled for work.  Lately, it’s the only sort of traveling I do. Fortunately, it is mostly paid for by my company - airfare, hotel, rental car, parking, meals, etc.; as long as it’s on what would normally be my time.  The only things I feel like I should pay for (and do) are extra meals or snacks and alcoholic beverages.  It’s the least I can do.

My experiences with flying are limited, but improving. I have learned the subtle art of self-check-in, and uploading boarding passes to my cell phone - all of which are probably basic to those of you who travel frequently. I have had varied experiences with airports in Philadelphia, Birmingham, Nashville, and Phoenix to get a gist of what it’s like to be in different airports.  Mostly, it’s filled with people who want to get somewhere as quickly as possible, even though often, the effort is worthless.

American Airlines boards flights in groups. I think the priority depends on how often you travel, since originally, I was in Group 9 (the last group) and lately I was in Group 6.  They seem to value the group numbering system as some sort of privilege, but I’m happier to be in Group 9, since I want to spend the least amount of time on the airplane as possible.  Why is it a privilege to board first, and then sit for a half hour on the tarmac? I’d rather be last to board, make that final trip to the rest room, and then get on the plane 10 minutes before it leaves the boarding area.

Almost everyone on the plane takes some sort of carry-on bag with them.  Always, the airline announces that "We are out of overhead space" and they offer free check-in for carry-on bags because of the lack of space. I figure, it’s a scam for passengers who just do it to get their bags checked for free. Schmucks like me pay $25 for our checked bags and carry-on a small bag with my cell phone and personal items.  I’d rather pay the 25 bucks than go through the hassle of finding overhead space or scamming the airline out of the bag fee. That’s just how I am.

I’m not sure about the sense of the "Group" boarding system.  You can be in Group One and be in the back row or the front row. You can be in Group Nine and be in the front row or the back row. It makes more sense to be to board the plane from back to front. That way, the people in Group Eight won’t have to wait 10 minutes while the people in Group Six wait to find overhead space and their seats.  They could get the plane boarded quicker and leave on time, instead of ten minutes later than scheduled.  But then, I don’t run an airline, so what do I know?

My flight to Phoenix from Philadelphia took 5.5 hours. I paid extra for an aisle seat, because I knew I couldn’t sit still for that long without having to use the rest room at least twice - and I’d rather get up for other people than to ask them to get up. That’s who I am.  Watching my fellow passengers, I noticed that, out of about 200 passengers on our 321 Airbus, only 30 or so got up.  "How can anyone sit for more than five hours without having to get up to pee?" I wondered.  The sociologist in me wanted to ask them as they got off, but the rest of me decided to just chalk it up to the oddities of human behavior.

We sit, schrunched-in next to each other for a long time, and often, we don’t say a word to each other. Either they have their head buried in a book (or Kindle) or they are wearing headphones watching episodes of "The Marvelous Mrs. Maizel." I suppose the idea is, "I’m never going to see these people again, so why bother?"  It’s the same as being in an elevator. Look around, but don’t break the ice.

There are two types of people: Open-window sight-seers and closed-window privacy seekers. Being in the middle or aisle seat leaves one at the mercy of them, and the problem with the closed-window group is the THUNK that I feel when the plane lands and I have no idea of our altitude.  For me, it’s interesting to see our world from thousands of feet in the air, and I’ll never forget the look of Las Vegas at night, coming into McCarran Airport, and seeing "The Jewel of the Desert" in all its glory.  How often does that happen in ones life and why wouldn’t you want to see it?

And then, there is the inevitable rush to get to baggage claim. It’s the classic "hurry up and wait" scenario. I had time to saunter along the walkway, stop to use the rest room, and then had 10 minutes to kill before the carousel started moving. I wonder if so many of them have never traveled before, or if they’re just goofy?  My airport experiences are limited, and even I know that unloading baggage, transporting it, and getting it on the carousel is laborious. What’s their hurry?  Again, I chalk it up to the vagaries of human behavior and how important it is for some people to be first in line, regardless of whether or not they are the first to leave.

They are in that Group One deal, I’d guess.

NEXT: Travel Prep and my levels of anxiety.