We're driving my daughter down to Florida so she can participate in the Disney College Program starting next week. I'll then fly back alone in order to minimize the time I miss at my new job. It will be the first time I've been on an airplane since November 2019.
This 20-month hiatus marks the longest I've gone without flying in probably 25 years. There was a time when the airport felt like my second home.
I spent the summer of 2005, for example, crisscrossing the continent, jetting from place to place to do work on behalf of various clients as a public relations agency professional. There was one nine-day stretch when I flew to Minneapolis to work alongside the Northwest Airlines PR team for two days, then flew to London to meet with various journalists over a five-day period, then flew directly back to Minneapolis once again to work with Northwest.
Terry was pregnant with Jack at the time and was having to take care of four young children by herself while I was gone. She was less than happy with my travel schedule.
It will be strange going through the airport security process again and, you know, actually streaking into the sky. I never used to pay much attention to takeoffs and landings, but I'm going to soak up every minute of my 2 1/2-hour jaunt from Orlando to Cleveland.
There is some business travel in store for me at Goodyear, but nothing on the scale of what I used to do 15-20 years ago.
And this, I assure you, is a very good thing.
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