Random thoughts on the plane

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There’s not much to do but ponder the utter absurdity of being served a chicken dinner when it's after midnight in the country you just left and 6AM in the country you’re flying to.

It’s clearly a military flight—extra rules and precautions, like the ten minutes they spent before takoff ensuring that every 8-person row had exactly 7 people in it. Weight distribution. I wonder briefly if there were families trying to get home from Christmas vacation who didn’t make it on the bimonthly flight due to the weight distribution. More than half the riders are white males between 25 and 40 with close-cropped hair, debatably athletic physiques and questionable fashion sense (collared shirts tucked into jeans, no belt, running shoes). Far too many have mustaches.

But there’s also a distinct sense of common purpose—we’re all on this flight to move, deploy or return to our homes overseas. We’re all in this together. Random college-age kids carry strollers and bags for stressed-out moms. No one glares at loud toddlers. Every bag contains a document with social security numbers, blood type, bank statements, wills, official passports and other compromising information, but no one worries that his or her identity will be stolen.

The Azores belongs to Portugal. For all I see of it, it could be two and a half miles long, but it’s green with stone fences like you see in pictures of northern England or Ireland. Sunny, like you see only in pictures of northern England or Ireland. I think sadly of other imperial holdout lands (Guam, Martinique), the ones too small or too forgotten to join last century’s revolutions for independence. Is it true that we own uncharted islands where natives work in factories for very low wages so we can put “Made in USA” stickers on the merchandise? I think I’ve heard that somewhere.

I think sadly of the nations who threw off the bonds of imperialism and then didn’t fare much better (or did far, far worse). And then suffered famine, storms and earthquakes. Haiti. Most of the world.

Maybe I’m sad because I don’t know how soon my family will be able to join me (awaiting a medical approval). And because the flight attendants are coming around with another chicken dinner. It’s like 6 AM in the country I just left.