The Magic of the Airport

When I was little, I watched in awe as The Keatons flew to England on a family vacation and The Bradys jumped on a plane to Hawaii. TV Family vacations seemed so exotic. We packed up the motorhome and headed out on the open road. No luggage, no airline tickets, no boarding passes, no passport required.

My first time on an airplane was when I flew to France in my last year of high school. I thought I was joining the likes of Alex P. Keaton as I waited at the gate to board my first flight. How luxurious to fly to my destination!

I have flown plenty of times since then, but arriving at the airport still holds the mystique from my childhood. It just seems full of adventure. It is the perfect place for people watching.

I love getting a coffee, finding my gate and sitting down to watch the other travelers pass by me. Cowboy hats. High heels. Pajamas. Anything goes. It's fun to imagine the back story on where they're flying and who they're going to see. Last week I had the pleasure of doing this in FOUR different airports as I made my way from Detroit to New Orleans via Dallas and back through Chicago.

I'm not sure which is better: the airport or the airplane. It's really an amazing feeling when it lifts off the ground and you're in the air. Seriously, it astounds me every time! I love having a window seat and looking down at the winding river, arrow-straight roads, mosaic fields and the puffy clouds that look like cotton candy.

Thank you Wright Bros. for making this post possible.