Come Fly

It's been said -- at least from an architecture standpoint -- that if you've seen one airport, you've seen one airport.

Let that observation sit for a moment. If you've seen one airport, you've seen one airport.

Check out the photos and you might agree. (By the way, can you name the six airports? If you have trouble naming even one, please consider glasses, less alcohol and/or another blog. Check back next week for their identities.)

Indeed, if you spend any time at all in airports you know that no two airport structures are alike. Most are beautiful, evoking the wonder and romance of travel. A number seek to hearken to the days of the grand rail stations. Some remind us of our penchant for exploration and wonder.

If you have the time or inclination to notice the architecture, that is.

Unfortunately, despite the awe-inspiring buildings (LaGuardia aside), most airports fall significantly short of eliciting enjoyment and pleasure -- at least when the true customer experience is considered. Too bad, too, given that most airports are eager for you, the traveling public, to experience the luxury, convenience and excitement of air travel.

Ah, the joys of air travel. Right. You call this joy?

• Traffic cops, who seem to have lost all ability to smile or even say anything pleasantly, insisting that you can't stop for more than 10 seconds to unload even the most frail traveler.

• The wait -- and fees! -- to check baggage (not, of course, the fault of the airport).
  

• The lines and fun of security, an experience made even more wildly entertaining when it's raining and the floor is damp (love wet feet, no?) or when the person at the head of the line can't quite get the idea that you can't wear your overcoat through the magnetometer.
  

• The stop at the bathroom (Over/Under Bet: That there are more paper towels on the floor than in the receptacles).

• Standing in line at any concessionaire, few of whom make eye contact or seem to appreciate your business (Another Over/Under Bet: That not all cash registers are open despite a long line).

• Trekking to the gate, looking for an electrical outlet (almost always a lost cause).

• Trying to use your phone over the cacophony of constant and aggravating public address announcements throughout the concourse reminding us incessantly how to prepare for the security screen -- even though we've already survived it! -- or that "the white zone is for the loading and unloading of passengers only. No parking." And every PA announcement amp turned up to 11. (A gratuitous This Is Spinal Tap reference.)
  

• Finding out that the 'WiFi Here!' signs really mean 'Pay $9.95 for an hour and we'll let you find your (slow) way to the Internet, thank you very much'.

• Needing to get in line yet again to board your plane (Certainly there must be an alternative to forming boarding lines, no? Enough with the lines already!).

• Finally, once on board there's the joy of sitting behind someone who reclines into your face, nearly crushing your computer. And, if you're truly lucky, sitting beside someone who can't quite fit into the seat (if you know what I mean and I'm sure you do). All nice people to be sure, but people who you wish were sitting anywhere else.

• And, lastly, as we've mentioned here before, trying to enjoy the flight with the benefit of less-than-civil 'service'. Certainly nothing to eat. Maybe a second cup of water, maybe not. Maybe a smile, maybe not.
  

Is there any wonder, then, why the gorgeous airport architecture goes unnoticed? Or why the idea of traveling by bus seems, somehow, attractive?

As I've asked before: Whatever happened to service? To a little eye contact? To a smile? To -- are you sitting? -- some warmth? Is this all too much to ask?

It seems that when you enter an airport you should be transported -- at least emotionally -- to a world of amazing and vast possibilities. Where each gate leads to another, more exotic destination. (No Cleveland jokes here; too many family members live nearby.) Where exploration begins. Where the world gathers to find its way home. Where loved ones part and reunite. And where the airport staff -- whether they be bus drivers, traffic cops, baggage handlers, ticket agents, TSA, concessionaires, or airport employees -- take the time to help you relax, if just a bit, and create a gracious, welcoming environment equal to the structure you're in. (LaGuardia does this well. The ambiance the airport staff creates is, indeed, equal to its dismal terminal. Sorry, but true.)

After all, airports want and need you. Too bad they don't act that way.

Let me leave you with the opening scene of the wonderful movie Love Actually, which captures one huge element of what airports are and should be about. (Haven't seen it? Rent it today. You'll be glad you did.)

Happy Hanukkah!