Airport observations

"Whenever you're feeling bad about yourself, go to an airport."

The first time I said that I was in an airport and directed the comment to my friend, Guy Williams. We were returning from one of the corporate group gropes we frequently attended in the early 1990s.

If anything, the advice is more appropriate these days.

You can place part of the blame on the wheel. Yes, somewhere in prerecorded history the first man fashioned the first wheel, but it took until the late 20th century before someone thought to to put them on luggage. Now all manner of bags sport a set of wheels.

To give credit where credit is due, it was my hunting and fishing "daddy", Bill Howarth who climbed this particular soapbox for one of his rants. Bill will give you a pass if you're dragging 60 lbs. of stuff on your next trip. He saves his ire for the morbidly obese who are tugging a computer case or large purse behind them.

This path of least resistance is also common in the gym that I visit most mornings. Why, if you are going to work out, to stress your body and your cardio-vascular system, would you take the elevator to the second floor? (My gym rant also includes: "Why would you walk or run on a treadmill in San Diego?" Sure, dead of winter Minnesota or Montana, I can see it, but San Diego?)

When we returned from our week in Pennsylvania, waiting for my return flight at Scranton/Wilkes-Barre airport, we matched up the rolling pieces of luggage with the overweight owners. You don't see a lean guy or gal pushing around a rolling valise that can hold a sandwich and a pair of glasses. They're manhandling backpacks that suggest an assault on Everest. (These they'll cram into the overhead compartments, but that's another musing for another Spambrother at another time.)

Riding mower or push mower? Elevator or stairs? Moving walkway or just plain walk? Do you do things the hard way or the easy way? Now, I'm not a Luddite suggesting that we return to a world where we had no mechanical advantage. But in a world where most of us sit on our ever expanding asses, maybe a degree of difficulty is in order.