I travel a lot. I have grown to expect flights will be delayed or cancelled. I no longer get riled when airlines treat passengers like annoying cargo they have to shuttle about. Spirit Airlines anyone?
This past winter was hell for us frequent flyers living in the Northeast. Just getting to the airport could be daunting. But once Boston's tower of filthy snow finally melted in July, my guard was down. When my husband and I headed to a cousin's wedding this weekend, just a little over an hour's flight from Boston, I was uncharacteristically optimistic that the trip would go smoothly.
It was a beautiful sunny day--not a cloud in the sky. What could go wrong? And then we heard the announcement. There was a computer glitch at the air traffic control center in Washington, D.C., which grounded hundreds of flights in the Mid-Atlantic region. After two hours waiting at the gate, we finally boarded our JetBlue flight. Cheers rang out. All was well. But as we taxied down the runway, we heard those two dreaded words from the pilot. "Sorry folks." There was no radar from Boston to DC. To prove this point, the flight attendant showed us an app on his phone with thousands of bright little dots lighting up a map of the U.S., each of which represented a plane en-route. And there was this big black hole with a 600 mile diameter. Passengers turned on CNN to get updates on the situation as we settled in for a long and arduous wait.
And then something strange and totally unexpected happened. The mood changed from gloomy to upbeat. Jill in seat 18C decided to collect bets on what time the flight would take off. The closest to wheels up without going over would win the pool. And the pilot would verify the time. Thirty five people bet five bucks a piece. It was only 2 pm. The bets ranged from 3:30 p.m. to midnight. And the flight attendants threw in money too. Then the pilot came over and talked to each and every passenger. "Where you trying to get to?" he asked. "A Phish concert," said the young man in 17B. "A business dinner," said the woman in 16A. "A wedding," I said. "At 7 p.m." "Oh," said the pilot sympathetically. "That's going to be tough. But we'll do our best." After two hours on the tarmac, I lost hope.
Then suddenly the pilot announced we were taking off. Everyone took out their watch. You could hear a pin drop. Who would win the pool? When the wheels went up all the passengers started to shout. "4:10 pm. I won!" "No it's 4:11!" When the pilot finally announced the official time; 4:09 pm, the young man in 17B let out a celebratory cry. "I won! Anyone going to the Phish concert, drinks are on me."
Being stranded on a plane is usually a miserable experience. People are cramped, uncomfortable and competing for limited resources. A few people can set an example of how everyone will collectively respond. If the staff at JetBlue had been curt or stressed, the passengers would likely have reacted in kind. But the flight attendants and pilot were friendly and Jill in 18C saw an opportunity to make lemonade out of lemons. Instead of focusing on our predicament, we were intrigued to find out who would win the "wheels up" bet. I hope as I encounter annoying events, which are sure to occur, that I can hold on to this life lesson. Despite my sincere attempts at mindfulness and not sweating the small stuff, I often find myself overreacting to life's curve balls. And when that happens, I hope I remember Jill in 18C. She showed us all that it is better to place your bet on the wheels going up than focusing on the fact that they are down. Despite a four hour delay, we miraculously arrived at my cousin's wedding, with five minutes to spare. And it was a joyful celebration indeed.