I’m home from my work week in Milwaukee, after mildly adventurous travel experiences. They had a storm system pass through southeastern Wisconsin during the hours leading up to my departure flight, moving southwest to northeast and passing the Milwaukee airport just before my flight was to depart. Inbound aircraft were delayed, yada, yada, and my scheduled flight looked like it was sliding close to missing my 9:30 connection to Seattle in Minneapolis (the last one of the day). A helpful agent got me reassigned to an earlier flight to Minneapolis, which would not have been available without the aforementioned delays, and printed me two new boarding passes, which included my original first-class seat on the Seattle flight.
The weather passed on to the east, and I got to Minneapolis in plenty of time. At boarding time for Seattle, I presented my boarding pass to the gate agent, but it wouldn’t scan. He played with his screen for a bit, and said that I wasn’t checked in for the flight. They had given my precious seat 1D away, and there were no first-class seats left. Kind of a jolt, since the flight was full, but he found me an exit-row seat in coach, so I didn’t suffer unduly. I watched wistfully as libations were distributed in the front section, but got a good portion of my book (Another Country, James Baldwin) read, and also caught a few z-z-z-z’s.
I’ve developed a peculiar way of sleeping on airplanes. The central problem is that, when one is asleep, his head becomes an uncontrolled projectile, not unlike the old playground tetherballs. Because the seats on a plane only recline a couple of inches this head is hardly supported at all, and, full of blood, nervous tissue and whatever one has imbibed prior to departure, tends to lurch forward or, more problematically, cant sideways towards the shoulder of a neighbor where, 99% of the time, it is unwelcome. (This is also the point where an unfortunate amount of saliva has bestrewn the chin and cheeks, a possible explanation).
Window seats are not much of a problem - I just find a spot against the side of the fuselage to lean. Middle and aisle seats are more difficult, but I’ve found a way to sort of tuck my chin into the hollow behind my clavicle, where it tends to stay affixed. It’s sort of like a bird with a beak tucked under its wing. I wake with a little soreness in my neck, but surprisingly refreshed.
I know you can get those neck-ring pillows, and I’ve got one, but I already carry so much stuff that I’m unwilling to devote space in my backpack to it.
A chilly, rainy weekend, but a weekend nonetheless, yawns before me.
