Travel Rant

Los Angeles International Airport


The line for Starbucks stretches down the terminal, at least sixty grumpy people in desperate need of coffee on this monday morning. The tiny American Airlines terminal at LAX is entirely inadequate for the amount of people it supports. One of two restrooms is closed for construction, resulting in an enormous line for the one functioning bathroom. I feel a bit guilty for taking the extra time to change into jeans, brush my teeth, wash my face, and put on deodorant, while dozens wait in line, but two-thirds of the way into my 36 hour sojourn from New Zealand to Cincinnati, I cannot possibly pass up the opportunity to wash away a bit of the travel grit, and to feel like a human being again. I am fairly certain that my fellow passengers on the upcoming flights will also appreciate my efforts. 


I have just arrived at LAX after a 12 hour flight from Auckland. I have very strong feelings about LAX, and they are these: I hate LAX. I hate the layout that makes everything impossibly spread out, and inevitably strands one in tiny terminals for hours on end with little more than a newsstand and a Burger King. I hate that no one bothered to put up adequate signage in the one of the busiest airports in the country, so that bleary eyed after a long flight, I clear customs, drop my bag, and am deposited in a completely signless hallway with a couple hundred other people, and I have to rely on my barely functioning brain to remember how to proceed. I hate that there's no way to transfer between flights without having to go through security again. I hate that "security" in this country still involves taking off my shoes since several years on, TSA still hasn't figured out that barefoot travelers aren't safer, they're just more likely to spread fungal infections. I hate that "security" now involves a digital strip search while TSA employees, wielding the power that they have, bark orders at passengers about where to put their hands. And when I listen to one woman scream at a foreign traveler over and over again in such poorly articulated English that even I (native speaker) have a hard time understanding, I feel my blood pressure rise. Airport security is so atrocious in this country that it often makes me seriously consider emigrating, perhaps high- tailing it back to New Zealand. If nothing else, it makes me loathe coming home. 


After 12 hours on a plane with nine infants under 18 months in my cabin area, none of whom seemed particularly interested in sleeping, what I'd really like to do is get off the plane, wander down to my next gate, grab a coffee, a bagel, and a piece of fruit along the way, and find a nice quiet corner with a comfortable chair to wait for my next flight. LAX offers none of this. 


Now, about those nine infants. I am not a parent. I have never traveled on an airplane with a small child in tow. I have, however, spent a lifetime with a variety of children, and generally have great appreciation for them. I have also traveled A LOT. Often with children on the same vehicle, and have watched a lot of parents. I don't mind the babbling of little voices on buses, planes, and trains, and I don't mind the occasional swatting arm of a curious tot, jamming it's way between the seats. But dear parents, the fact that you have a little person in tow is no excuse for bad behavior. 


Regardless of your preferred sleep tactics at home, it is NEVER, EVER, NEVER acceptable to let your child "cry it out" on an airplane. EVER. The long flight and leaping time zones is going to totally screw up any sleep schedule anyway, and if you are not okay with the disruptions to your child's routine, you have no business traveling internationally with your infant. Whether you let your child cry it out at home is beside the point entirely. When you are in a tiny space with 300 other people, it is never going to be okay to let your child wail. Kids cry. Yep. Got it. But you better be making a valiant effort to quiet said crying child. Especially when it's the middle of the night, and your screaming child has now woken up and set off three other crying babies. Your crying child's need to learn to self-soothe has just fallen way off the bottom of the priority list when there are that many other people involved. 


Whew. Okay. There's my rant. And important notes for other travelers. Now, just two more flights, three more airports, and a week to get my body on the right time zone.