Kindling above the clouds

Kindles and iPads -- the bane of a flight attendant's existence.  So reports today's New York Times.

FAA regulations require that all electronic devices be turned off  below ten thousand feet, while taking off and landing.  But "petulant" passengers leave them on and "surreptitiously" continue reading.  "We're not policemen," the head of the flight attendants union laments.

There's no evidence that operation of these devices actually interferes with navigation.  It's just a rule.

You know what?  I'm not bothered.  As reported a couple of days ago ("Abandoned on the prairie," q.v.), I was deeply engrossed in a lengthy and absorbing novel on my flights to and from Oakland last week.  But when asked to turn off electronic devices, I did so without complaint and without petulance. 

Today's planes -- especially 737s -- climb very swiftly past 10,000 feet.  During that short time, I watched the airport building whiz by as we took off.  I picked out landmarks below.  I "surreptitiously" gave my neighbors a once over, observing their peculiarities.  I glanced at the in-flight magazine, studying the route map to find more interesting, more remote places I wished I were heading.  I noted once again, with satisfaction,  how all planes have "No Smoking" symbols above each seat -- symbols that are now perpetually lighted, symbols will never again blink off,  granting addicted passengers permission to share their cigarette smoke with their neighbors.

Before I knew it, the double chime rang, and I returned to my novel.  For maybe ten minutes, my reading had been interrupted.  I had been forced to amuse myself.  I had been required to be aware of myself and my surroundings, rather than lost in the more exotic world about which I'd been reading.  I had been forced to sit quietly and think my own thoughts.

Even if this ten-minute hiatus in my action-packed day was scientifically unnecessary, was it a bad thing?  People pay good money to attend retreats, places where they can be silent and clear their minds and focus on their lives.  Monks willingly spend entire lifetimes in such activities.  We were granted ten minutes, free of charge -- courtesy of the FAA.  Heck, sometimes those ten minutes are so much gosh-darn fun that I put my book or Kindle aside and spend the entire two-hour flight engaged in such non-activity -- staring blankly out the window at the clouds and landscape below.

 Call me simple-minded.  But some of those "petulant" travelers might try a little simple-mindedness now and then, and ease off on their blood pressure.