Auto vs. Big Bird 
~ by James Banzer

   Three years and counting after the attacks on America
on 9/11, it appears that life for connoisseurs of
travel is permanently scarred. The fundamentalist
idiots who anticipated multiple virgins in heaven
messed things up forever. Could anyone disagree?

   A little more than three years ago, we did not have
the Federal Transit Administration people. We just
didn't know how lucky we were boys and girls. FTA
people don't smile. They seem more like robots than
human beings. Sadly, we are now used to it. It may be
necessary for air safety, but it has put a permanent
damper on air travel.

   You feel as though you are being corralled into a
cattle pen as you prepare to fly. Baggage checks are
part of it. Going through the checkpoint, there's a
good chance that you will be asked to remove your
shoes. You will be subjected to the magic wand metal
detector body sweep at the terminal.

   This is only the beginning. Once you board the big
bird, although you are in the midst of lots of people,
you had might as well be alone. No one converses.
Flight attendants will say whatever they are obliged
to say, with no look of congeniality. Remember the
friendly skies?

   If you have the time, and the distance is not too
great, it is a treat to your sanity to hop in the car
and self-pilot to your destination. If you are not
alone, it's cheaper too, even with gasoline prices at
two-dollars a gallon and rising.

   Driving can be fun. It's the real way to see the
country. To give yourself an even greater degree of
tranquility, you can give yourself a real treat by
avoiding those strips of fast lane Interstate highway.
The way to go is the old two-lane roads that made up
the old U.S. highway system.

   This is how to find the real America. You'll see the
quaint little mom and pop diners. You will find the
obscure historical points of interest, some of which
are not on the map or in the travel guide books. You
see the cows, sheep, goats and pigs. The countryside
takes on meaning when seen from an automobile.
Motoring gives an opportunity to stop and look around.

   Once on a whim, your writer drove off of the busy road
somewhere in rural Kentucky. The little strip of
asphalt passed a small old remote cemetery. It looked
like a good place to stop, stretch the legs and look
around. The kids termed it "the middle of nowhere."

   I spotted an intriguing flat grave marker. The
lettering was eroded by the years. On the marker was
the story of how a man and a woman had been buried
there. Their demise was the result of a murder/suicide
pact.

   The story said he went to jail for some terrible
crime, and she came to visit him. They were
sweethearts. He was sentenced to hang. She refused to
let him die alone, and they decided to go together.
Their remains are now eternally embraced below the
ground. So stated the grave marker story.

   Things like that are not to be found on an airplane.
There are no opportunities to explore when up in the
air.

   For sure, you'll miss some things by winding around
America on the ribbons of concrete and asphalt. You
won't get to take all the keys and change out of your
pockets to put on a conveyor belt before getting the
FTA treatment. You won't get to feel as a cow must
feel when she's being herded into her holding pen.

   America is still out there and waiting for you to
sense her. You have to swear off the big bird to feel
it though.

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After a long career in broadcast news, James Banzer is
now writing on his observations about the world around
us. He currently resides in Louisville, Kentucky. You
may send him e-mail at jamesbanzer@yahoo.com.