People We Meet Along the Way…
The most famous person I sat next to…
A part of travel is that unless we can afford otherwise, we travel next to people we do not normally know. We can be super wealthy and sit next to someone in poverty. We can be an unknown and sit next to someone famous. We can be a failure in school and sit by someone educationally brilliant. We can be weak and sit next to someone strong. We can be lost and sit next to someone found. On and on. We welcome them all.
Rumi, an 13th century poet wrote this (translated by Coleman Barks):
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
I am reminded of this when I think of the people I have been fortunate to meet along my travels, talented in their own ways, rich in their own ways, known or not known, but always worthy.
I sat across from Kevin Bacon and Willie Nelson. Traded seats with Lionel Ritchie. Alec Baldwin and I used to hang out (separately) in the Admirals Club at LAX (not sure if he’s flying AA any more). Deepak Chopra and I flew from Miami to Los Angeles once (so I felt good that nothing bad would happen). Cyndi Lauper and Charlie Pride sang (different flights), and Ed O’Neil was a gentleman to an elderly lady. Neve Campbell and Nicole Morgan, the French model were on a flight to Kauai. I flew with Captain Cowboy who wore a real cowboy hat instead of the standard pilot drooping looking hat. He described turbulence as “riding a buck.” I’m not sure I wanted to know that. Jimmy Fallon held the door for my wife and me at the Mark Hotel when his Taxi movie came out.
But, my favorite story about people we meet along the way is about a six year old boy named, Ernie.
JetBlue BOSLGB around 2009
An exhausting week on the road
A last-minute flight back home
Rushing to Boston airport
A long line for security
A long line to board
A lot of overhead luggage
A window seat
A lot of work to do
An empty middle seat next to me
Score!
And then, as the door closed a flight attendant with two kids in tow, slid through. The little girl took the middle seat in front of the row I was seated in.
The little boy sat next to me.
The little boy was only clutching a pack of 35-sticks of gum (seemed like more at the time) and had a wad of gum going on in his mouth. He was well dressed in a pair of slacks, a pressed shirt, real shoed and wore a sports coat. He seemed content, his feet dangling. He checked out the video screen and buckled his seatbelt. His older sister turned around to make sure he was OK.
Another stick of gum unwrapped and in his mouth.
He told me his name was Ernie, he was six and that he was going to visit his grandparents. He had flown across the country “lots of times and knew what to do.” SpongeBob came on the screen and another stick of gum went in.
As the jet bridge pulled away from the plane, Ernie tapped my arm and asked if we can switch seats since he, “didn’t like the middle seat.”
“How about if you sit by the window during take off and landing, and I’ll sit by the window during the rest of the flight so I can do my work, OK?”
“OK. Thank you, sir”
We switched seats. Ernie propped himself up with his little fingers holding onto the bottom of the window sill to he could see outside better. I fell asleep.
Some people don’t talk. Some talk too much. Or talk too loud. Some take up too much space. Some smell bad or wear too much bad perfume, or not enough perfume. Some commandeer the arm rest (protocol says that the person in the middle seat should have both arm rests in the down position). Some people are happy, some sad, most mind their own business, some not.
I’ve generally had good experiences with others while traveling. I’ve sat by millionaires, actors, CEO’s of large companies, a guy who had a heart attack, youngsters and the elderly, people from all around the world, scared people, drunk people, co-workers (#1 business rule I broke), customers. I awoke over Buffalo, and Ernie was still sitting, looking outside the window. I noticed his pack of gum was missing a few more pieces.
We swapped seats and I cracked open my laptop to work.
The flight attendant came by offering headphones, drinks and food. She asked if he wanted anything, so I bought him a headset and a Sprite. I have a son and daughter, and would have wanted someone to do the same.
I like watching people who had never met, and travel. Many have ‘affairs’ for the few hours they are together, never intending to see each other again. All are chance meetings. Deals are struck. Stories are swapped. Memories made.
I love travel because we have a chance to meet people we would not otherwise get to meet — the universe’s meet-people lottery. It is an opportunity to experience someone else’s life for a couple of hours — good or bad, long or short, happy or sad. Some experiences we take, others we give. If I had a nickel for every time I sat by a woman with man problems, I would be able to afford First Class. (Hint: If understanding a man is hard, you’re over thinking it. If understanding a woman is easy, you’re not thinking about it enough).
We were over Denver. Ernie was humming the Dora song. In went another stick of gum. He asked me if we were getting ready to land so he could sit by the window. He unwrapped a piece of gum for me and held it in his six-year old fingers for me.
Sometimes we “meet” our seatmate late in the trip only to wish we had started the conversation earlier. Excited people, weary people. Soldiers on their way overseas or on their way home. A newlywed couple or a family. I sat by a TV-known psychologist on an overseas flight once and an actress on a 45-minute commuter flight. One was long enough, the other was too short.
Somewhere over Arizona we began our descent into Long Beach. By now it was dark. Ernie was past ready to sit by the window. He was still chewing but had long run out of fresh gum. We switched seats. I saw the back of his head as he looked out the window. He was excited, getting ready to meet his grandparents wearing his little suit.
The flight attendant came by, embarrassed that I paid for his headsets and Sprite when he wasn’t ‘with’ me. Who knew?
We landed.
The flight attendant took him to meet his grandparents.
I think of Ernie and what a nice young man he was. So well behaved. His sister turning around to check on him from time to time. Ernie tried to talk through all of the gum, I caught most of it. I never once felt like I wouldn’t treat him as I would my own.
The flight attendant handed off Ernie and his sister to their grandparents.
Ernie turned around, waved and said, “Thank You.”
Just like the gentleman he was.
And then, come to think of it, I have no idea where all that gum went.
