Flying to California has all the disadvantages of going to Europe: small seats, messy bathrooms, a six hours flight, and practically the same price—without any of the perks—three tasty meals (if you like airplane food like I do), with endless drinks and snacks, a little pillow and matching blanket, TV and film entertainment in front of you (not in your device), and an updated map of your flight, so you know where you are.
The American Airlines flight to Los Angeles last week for my granddaughter Djuna’s graduation started
by being two hours late, sitting on the runway. By then the plane needed refueling and the crew had to be changed due to regulations. Back in the Philadelphia airport we waited two more hours for the crew to arrive, not knowing if we would be able to take off that evening because there were majors storms coming.
I was surprised to see that most of the passengers were buying food, including pizzas, to carry onboard. I was thinking that I will never understand eating habits in this country, while I munched on an Auntie Anne’s soft pretzel. Of course, I soon found out what the reason was, there is no food service on flights to the West Coast. What, not even food for purchase? Where was my welcoming cheese platter? We were offered one drink with a biscuit. When I went to the back of the plane three hours later and asked for a second drink, the relaxed air hostesses said I could have one, but there was no ice left. You would think that after a four-hour delay, they would at least give free “real” drinks for everyone. It would have made for a less grumpy grandma at least.
Luckily, I had a window seat to distract myself. After the endless green farm lands of the Midwest in rectangular, square and even round shapes, I could see some flooded rivers before the majestic mountains, with a trace of snow on the north side, began to appear. Then miles and miles of colorful deserts. What a huge country! There is plenty of room for all the immigrants in the world here. Why is our government being so unfair and stingy?
My father used to say that the distance from Madrid to Moscow, Russia, was some seven hundred miles less than from New York City to the West Coast. And Spain was roughly the size of Texas and had approximately the same population, 31 million inhabitants. He was like today’s Google. How did he know all this information? He probably learned it on and atlas. Of course, I had to prove him wrong and checked it. He was right for the 1960s; today Spain has grown to over 47 million people, sixteen million more inhabitants than Texas.
I remember the flight when my family came to the USA, it was the first time any of us had been in a plane. My mother and I wore white gloves. She had a suit made for the occasion and I wore a pleaded skirt remodeled from one of hers (I was getting so tall), and a red suede jacket, my favorite. I won’t even try to describe the attire most of the passengers wore last week, because you’ll think I’m being mean.
Going to Europe one doesn’t see much at all from the window seat, just the blue ocean blending with the clouds, but at least we have the itinerary charts, indicating the route. I’m not going out West again without an atlas. I have to confess that growing up geography was my favorite subject. Do they even teach geography anymore?
But I digress…
The landscape was turning into shades of red, we must have been flying over Arizona. There was no green anywhere. Suddenly, I saw an enormous mountain shaped like a volcano with what looked like black earth sliding on its side. Who knew there were volcanoes so close to California?
We are coming back to Philadelphia in the red-eye because we have to be in the East Coast for Jake’s graduation, my grandson, at Johns Hopkins the same week. No food or amenities on that flight either. 
At least, everyone is sound asleep and it’s not as noticeable. In fact, I hope to be making frequent flights to the West Coast in the near future, he is moving to San Francisco with one of the big tech companies and his long-time girlfriend is moving in with him. Soon, there will be plenty of new reasons to fly West again, not that I’m looking forward to have great-grand children yet.