Flying used to be fun...

But now I loathe, detest and despise it. But I pretty much got it down to a science to make it as painless as possible. Unfortunately, I often get called out of town so I've developed these practices to minimize the headaches that accompany travel.

First, I avoid checking baggage at all costs. I took a trip to Amsterdam for work this year and was there for a week. Yep, you guessed it, I fit all my junk in a carry on bag, which brings me to a quick tangent:

On my last trip to Holland I decided to pick up some Hungarian Salami at one of the local shops there. I packed it into my backpack and took it on the plane with me on my flight back to the States. When the flight attendant gave me my US Customs declaration form, I must confess I debated as to whether I even wanted to declare it, because it stated on the form that meats were not permitted in the United States (Mad Cow Disease). And the last time I went through customs, they didn't even check my bags. But, being the honest guy that I am, I declared it.

So I get off the plane and pat myself on the back for not having to follow the other losers to baggage claim and get in a very long line to go through customs. As I stand there waiting, I notice a customs officer making her way up the line with a small dog about the size of a house cat. The dog was sniffing everybody's bags. That's when my heart started to sink. I wanted my Hungarian Salami, and no dog was going to take it from me. It seems the hundred or so people in front of me did not have any contraband, because the dog just kept making its way towards me. When the officer and her dog finally got to me (I had two carry-ons), I allowed the dog to sniff the one I was holding but did not remove my backpack. The agent then told me to remove my backpack. I relented, and when the dog got near it, it pounced on my backpack and stared up at the officer.

Then the questions started. "Sir, what do you have in your backpack?" That's when I was glad that I had declared everything on my form. "Well, officer, as you can see on my customs form, I have some salami in there, which is probably what the dog is smelling." Long story short, I had to stand in two more lines, have my bags emptied and searched, and got to keep my unpasteurized Dutch cheese but lost my delicious Hungarian Salami. The customs officers probably ate it themselves.

Anyway, back to the point I was originally making -- I don't check baggage. And Jessica bought me these dress shoes that have no back on them, so I can put them on like a pair of slippers, but you'd never know they were like that because my dress pants cover the back of the shoe. They are super comfortable and very convenient when I have to go through security at the airport. I keep my laptop in a front pocket so I can easily remove it and replace it (I don't take my laptop bag, it's just another piece of luggage to haul around).

When I fly I will always take an aisle seat that is closest to the front of the plane. And when they board, I will always be the last one on the plane after everyone else is seated and out of my way. I refuse to pay for headphones or peanuts (don't fly American for that reason), and I don't want to worry about getting a special code to upgrade my ticket to first class (avoid Delta for that). Class N, Q, B, S, or Y will allow you to upgrade, but apparently upgrading a class L ticket is an unpardonable sin. Even though I have more miles on my account than everyone else on the plane put together.

I miss the good old days when going through security was a breeze, the little things were free, and the customs people didn't take your meat away. Thanks, Osama, for ruining my fun.