Flying is not fun

I used to love to fly. I used to be able to afford to fly.

Today, flying is more expensive than ever. And there are more lines, more work and more hassle.

My family and I recently set out on a vacation to enjoy the snow in Colorado. We arrive at the airport.

To start, we can't even get our seat assignments when we check in. The airline just replaces one piece of paper with another piece of paper and sends us to security to wait in a line as long as the Amazon River.

After about two hours in the line, security strips us down to what might as well be our birthday suits and treats us as if we are already terrorists.

I'm allowed to bypass the metal detector because I have a pacemaker, but I have to get patted down where everyone can see. All eyes are on me as if I failed the metal detector portion of the security check and I'm basically ready to be arrested. The people seem to be saying, "I hope he's not on our plane. He even looks like a terrorist."

My wife has her own fun with our 4yearold son, who's busy returning everyone's plastic bins to the security people. As I get patted down, my wife tries to tie her shoes while chasing our son with her eyes, telling him to come back to her side. I yell for my son to return to his mom. Security tells me to spread 'em.

Once we finish with security, it's time for a potty break. Since when are the lines for the men's room longer than the lines for the women's room?

Separation anxiety

At the gate, we can't just sit and peacefully wait to board the plane like in the old days. My wife and I are constantly called to report to the front desk- evidently, our son isn't seated next to either of us.

"Why couldn't we just get seat assignments when we booked these tickets over a month ago?" my wife asks the desk jockey.

"It just doesn't work that way anymore," the man says. "Not to worry, we'll have your seat arrangements solved in no time."

After about 30 minutes and several more trips to the desk, we finally do get our seat assignments. My son will sit next to me on the plane, but my wife has a seat at the other end of the cabin. So much for a family trip.

Meanwhile, my son is hungry. I can't believe we spent half the day getting to the airport and checking in. So we get some lunch. The vendors in the airport make the movie theaters look like the 99-cent store. So much for the $100 in my wallet.

My family is finally ready to board the plane. My carryon baggage gets rejected as a carry-on, and I must check it onto some cart on the tarmac. I've carried the same bag onto planes other times with no problem. Why does it get rejected this time? And why does the lady next to me get to carry her dog onto the plane? Is a dog really considered a carry-on? Where do you put a dog? In the overhead bin or under the seat in front of you?

Here's something I've never understood about flying: Why does your seat back have to be in its full, upright and locked position? It's no Lazy Boy. It doesn't recline back that far at all. And if the plane crashes, will you really be in more danger with the seat reclined another two inches?

As the plane takes off, my son announces to pretty much everyone in the cabin that he has to go potty. Of course he has to go when the "fasten seat belts" sign is illuminated. He says he's going to have an accident if he doesn't go immediately. The flight attendants can't help. So we wait.

Hand sanitizer, anyone?

The seat belt light eventually goes off, and I jump up with my son and rush to the bathroom. Now I generally don't like to touch anything in a public restroom for fear of poor janitorial upkeep and germs, yet the bathroom on a plane is so small I can't help but kiss the walls. How does one take his or her kid potty on a plane when the bathroom is smaller than an ashtray? Turbulence doesn't help make the experience any better.

I finally get back to my seat and relax. The lack of chatter on the plane and the humming sound of the jet engines put me to sleep. That's about the time the piercing sound of the stewardess announcing frequent-flier deals wakes me up and nearly gives me a heart attack. No wonder airlines want you in your seat belt when seated on a plane. Had I not been strapped in, the sound of that loudspeaker would've shot me out of my seat and into the oxygen mask storage compartment above my head.

Now why must airlines advertise their service while you're flying with them? We all already bought our tickets. What's to sell? I had to ask. They're peddling other services and products they offer in some sky mall magazine, and they tell us not to forget to enjoy this resort and that location, blah, blah, blah.

After talking throughout most of the trip, the flight attendant finally tells us to enjoy the flight. How am I going to enjoy the flight when I've been miserable all day?

I was stripped down and felt up at airport security by some guy I didn't find all that attractive; I feel dirty from the airplane bathroom experience with my son; the stewardess on the loudspeaker has made my ears ring as if I'd spent all day at a shooting range without earplugs, and my wallet is completely empty. There's no enjoyment going on here.

The plane finally lands and my wife and I are happy to begin the vacation in Colorado's winter wonderland. We look out the window to discover we've landed at the wrong airport. We have to jump back on another plane and fly again.

Next time, we're taking the train.

E-mail Michael Picarella at pic@nappic.com or go to www.myspace.com/familymen.