Chicken or Pasta by Jane Tolbert

My daughter precedes most mentions of international Delta flights with “chicken or pasta.”

As long as I have been flying the airline, this has been the meal choice. Airline travel has not changed much. At least, not for the best.

My kids said they assumed planes would become faster and more comfortable by the time they reached adulthood. However, instead of faster planes (hélas, I never got to take the Concorde), my European flights still require anywhere between 18-to- 24 hours of transit. As of January 2010, we are limited to one checked bag. And carry on luggage and hard plastic pet carriers no longer go under the seat. The seats in airplanes seem to have shrunk, and bathrooms have all but disappeared. This past weekend I only found three in economy class of the Nice-New York flight.

Now, at the beginning of every flight when airline stewards announce safety procedures (like how to fasten your seatbelt, what to do in case of loss of pressure), they also add that passengers are not to congregate (but the dearth of bathrooms forces us to congregate—we have few options at 35,000 feet). 9-11 has resulted in an increasing number of restrictions and security checks. Usually, the airport PA system pelts us with messages about an orange alert and the need to maintain all items with us at all times. We guzzle the last drops of water (more than $3 at JKF the other day) so our bottle will not be confiscated by security.

The PA systems on airlines and in airports that carry messages that we do need to hear (like our gate has been changed, our pets have not been transferred to the next flight) continue to be broadcast in a mumbled, crackly Esperanto reminiscent of a Mr. Hulot on holiday film (you do not have to understand French to enjoy this series by Jacques Tati, portions of which are online).

People still plod through airports with weary expressions (they are), and some run as if they will miss their flight (they do). Suitcases are still black or dull blue, for the most part. Years ago, we had bags strapped to metal luggage carriers. Now suitcases have four wheels that make transport much easier. Some suitcases (like those designed by Britto) have bright colors for a perky price ($350 at the airport).

The food cart (carrying steaming trays of chicken or pasta) trundles down the aisle, cutting off passengers from the bathrooms and confining them to their seats until the trays are collected. Scalding coffee is still served in plastic cups and inevitably just before the airline hits a patch of turbulence. There are at least two movies I want to watch (“It’s Complicated” and the “Blind Side”), but the projection system is experiencing problems. My option for language was only Japanese for a film I did not want to see.

I spend time between flights with my T-Mobile “searching” for a connection (yet everyone else seems to be chatting happily on their cell phones). What has changed—the flights arrived on time. Immigration and customs at JFK seemed better organized (and more polite). What seemed to be an interminable line of people made it through all formalities (passports, baggage claim, and customs) within 30 minutes.

Everytime I prepare for an international trip I say this is my last flight, that I will find another means of travel. But by the time I arrive in Orlando, I am almost ready to go again.