Wingin' it...

Here’s the thing about air travel these days: it goes against the axiom of “getting there is half the fun”.  Unless I’m running a floating slalom course through the clouds in an F-22, I can’t possibly see how air travel could be considered “fun”.  If you think about it, an airliner is a glorified Greyhound bus and just as filled with… interesting people.  The guy across the aisle on the Charlotte to Denver leg typified everything I hated about the stereotypical frat guy in college - blue blazer with khaki pants, boat shoes and no socks and the required ballcap worn backwards.  Oh, and he appeared to have started drinking a little early that morning - and forgot to stop.  Thankfully Bose saved another life.
Another thing about air travel is this airline itself.  I know there is a fee for an overweight bag but when they want to charge me an additional $115 for the privilege of destroying my luggage, I have to draw a line.  Considering the airfare itself only cost $150, I could probably FedEx myself to Denver for the same amount.  .  And this is what I don't understand: for nearly the same price, I could have bought a seat for my suitcase so it could sit next to me - I’m sure it would have appreciated the gesture.  “No thanks, none for him – he’s a suitcase.  But I’ll take a Coke.”  I could then test the inebriation level of Frat-Boy.  If he talks to the suitcase, he's hasn't passed out yet and should have more.
I guess the thing that really gets me about the whole flying experience is that it used to be a treat to fly, you felt like it was special.  Now you feel like you are, well, boarding a bus.  Something has been lost. 
Regardless of everything, I did make it to Denver faster than if I had walked which is always a plus.  Miraculously, my luggage and my body arrived at the same location at generally the same time.  Glad my money was well spent.
Later that night, we went to a very small and odd church service which I would have paid more attention in had there not been lighting crashing down around me.  Afterwards, Tracey and I got the Anointing of the Sick which is great until it was explained that it used to be called the Anointing of the Almost Dead and was given to those who were.  OK, so that’s not entirely historically correct but it was reserved for those who had their hall passes stamped.After church, little Amelia had us act out a play where I was an evil wizard and Tracey played a robotic dog that was after the magic bologna.  I’m not so sure the script was well thought out but it was a blast and I love to hear Amelia laugh. 
Finally, we ended the night at Village Inn for free pie night.  On 3/14.  (get it?)  More family came to visit and as usual, we got dirty looks from a lady in the corner who was trying to read her newspaper.  At 9pm.  Way to stay current grandma.
All in all, a good start to a trip worth taking.  That I didn't have to use the jetski in the back of the airplane made it even better.

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