Posts
© 2024 Catherine Haslag, All Rights Reserved
© Catherine Haslag
© 2022 Catherine Haslag, All Rights Reserved
© 2022 Catherine Haslag, All Rights Reserved
© Catherine HaslagPre-Flight
I flew for the first time when I was 10. I went with my grandma and uncle to California to visit my other uncle. We flew TWA out of St. Louis.
I recently took my first plane trip in 2 years. I flew to Las Cruces to visit some friends. As I sat in Chicago for three hours waiting for my connecting flight, I started thinking about how air travel has changed since I took my first flight in 1990.
We used to stand in line at the airport to check in and get our boarding passes. It was common to check a bag and you were allowed to check one for free. Now, I check in from my cell phone. It costs $30-$50 to check a bag, so I pack everyone I need in my carry-on. If it’s not necessary for the trip, I don’t take it. I have gotten really good at packing light.
Boarding passes were printed. You had to be careful notto lose it. I spent a lot of time checking my pockets to make sure I still had it. They also doubled as a great bookmark for the trip. Now, I pull my boarding pass up on my cell phone or watch. No more checking pockets and no more handy bookmarks.
I don’t remember having any layovers when I was a kid. It was a lot more common to get a direct flight from St. Louis to California or D.C. Now, I always expect a layover. I can’t tell you the last time I flew and didn’t have a layover in Chicago (ORD), Dallas (DFW), or Denver (DEN). Oddly enough, I have never had a layover in Atlanta (ATL).
I remember my grandparents, uncles, cousin, and I all going to the airport together when I was a kid. When my Uncle Dick flew in or out for a visit, we went and sat with him at the gate until he boarded his flight, or we met him right at the gate, searching the faces of the people walking up the gangway for his. Now, those human moments of hugs and delight at seeing your loved one again happen at baggage claim or in the “kiss and fly” zone. Unless you are a ticketed passenger, you aren’t getting past security.
There were meals and a snack on the planes. Every flight. I would get off a plane with a full belly. As a kid, I was very concerned with what our flight would be serving. Now, you are lucky to get a drink and a cookie. Airlines don’t give nuts out on flights anymore because of allergies. The only meals I see served on planes are for international flights…and they aren’t as good as they used to be.
There used to be in-flight movies, usually a family-friendly film that was recently released but may or may not be in theaters at the time of the flight. It was projected on a few screens scattered throughout the plane. Now, large planes offer each passenger their own mini entertainment center with movies and TV shows they can scroll through and choose from. If your flight doesn’t offer you this option, most travelers have a phone or tablet they can watch downloaded movies and TV shows on to view in flight.
There have been changes in luggage styles, services offered in the airport, the way passengers dress and entertain themselves on flights. Walkmans have been replaced by ear pods and iPhones. Books and trashy magazines are still a standard. Hudson News is still a standard shop in many airports.
Security has changed too. You still run your bags through a scanner, but now you have to take off all jackets, shoes, and items that aren’t the layer above your bra and panties. Body scans are standard practice, often followed with a pat-down that in other situations would qualify as sexual assault. I have literally had a woman with TSA put her hands in my pants. When I went through security for my first flight, my 10-year-old self didn’t have to strip first and no one touched me inappropriately.
Another sign of the times and how much things have changed. Something common and mostly insignificant that reveals so much more about what our world was and is becoming.
© Catherine HaslagFool’s Spring
This past week, we experienced several days of temperatures in the upper 40s to low 60s. The snow is mostly melted, leaving behind enough sand to build our own beach along the Cedar River and some very, very brown grass. People are out walking in shorts, some green things are starting to peek out from the ground in the flower bed along my house, and a few trees have buds swelling in expectation. I even saw a few bugs buzzing about, much to my dismay. The smell of spring is in the air…until Tuesday when winter returns with a rain/snow mix and temperatures start to drop into the 30s again.
This week of warm and melty weather is what many refer to as “Fool’s Spring,” a time of the year that feels like spring is just around the corner, but in reality, it’s just Mother Nature and Old Man Winter playing a joke on all of us. A few days of sun, a little warmth, and the phase-change of water lull us into a false sense that spring is nearly here…then winter returns and we are back to snow boots and icy roads.
View of the Coyote Point Trail at Whitewater State Park.
While Fool’s Spring is fleeting, it is especially necessary and celebrated by me this year. Winters in Minnesota are always hard. They can be brutally cold, grey, and snowy. Every time I leave my house I do my best impersonation of the little brother from A Christmas Story.
The very long climb to the look-out point.
People tend to hunker down in the winter months. Social circles contract because people aren’t out and about as much. It takes energy to bundle up, dig the car out, scrape it off, and drive somewhere in the winter, so people do it less. Because of the pandemic, people did it even less this year, at least this is true for me and those in my social circle. No lunch with friends on a Friday to catch up, no bull sessions over drinks at the B&J on Thursday afternoons, no working at a coffee shop for a few hours just to be around people. If you live alone, this winter has probably sucked the big one more so than usual.
I took the opportunity Fool’s Spring provided to get out and hike a bit. I visited a very soggy Whitewater State Park. Despite the muddy, icy, and snowy trails (in some places all of these at the same time) it felt so good to get out, move my body, and breathe in the fresh air. I hiked up a set of stairs that extended approximately 0.2 miles to a lookout point. I sat at the very wisely-placed bench at the top of these stairs and enjoyed the view, felt my heart pound, and drank some water. It felt so good to feel my heart pushing blood through my body and fresh breath in my lungs. It was like this winter was starting to melt inside of me as well as on the land around me.
View from the look-out point.
This first Fool’s Spring provided a break from the cold, grey days. It gave me the chance to shed my winter shell and thaw a bit from the past few months. I not only needed to warm my body, but also tend to my heart. Emotions have been high for me for a lot of reasons over the past year. I know I am not the only one on this either. The fresh air, the sun on my face, and the feel of sneakers on my feet rather than snow boots is a boost to my morale. The opportunity to recharge a bit before finishing out the winter season. A shimmer of hope that this winter won’t last forever, that spring will be here soon.
Fool’s Spring is a promise to us all. Better times are ahead. We just have to be patient and wait a little bit longer.
© Catherine Haslag
© Catherine HaslagThe Seat of Our Democracy
Washington D.C. has a special place in my heart. I have visited this city 4 times in my life. The first was in 1992. I was 11. My grandpa paid for my plane ticket and I accompanied my mom on a business trip. He thought it was important for me to see the nation’s capitol. We visited the Smithsonian, the National Zoo, walked the mall, and rode the Metro. I love the DC Metro. The smell of the underground stations hasn’t changed since I first inhaled it nearly 30 years ago. Underground must, stone, urban vibe, with long notes of history.
Photo of a DC Metro Station in 2017.
I can feel that history when I walk the town. Retracing Lincoln’s steps from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue to Capitol Hill. Running my fingers through the carved stone that lists those who died in the Vietnam war. Enjoying a drink at the Hawk and Dove where Bobby Kennedy supposedly decided to run for president (according to my mom’s friend Phil. I have found no documentation for this, but it’s a good story.) Watching July 4th fireworks from a grassy area near the Capitol Building and picturing the bombs and rocket’s red glare that the song describes.
The Lincoln Memorial in 2017.
I have stood in statuary hall and in the galleries of the house and senate. I met Senator Claire McCaskill of Missouri in the cafeteria of one of the Senate buildings (I can’t remember which one), had a photo taken with Senator Al Franken of Minnesota when I was in DC for AAUW Lobby Day, and met Representative Ike Skelton of Missouri when I was 17. He was my US House Representative then and took the time to step out of a committee meeting to speak with me and other youth who were visiting from his district. Kit Bond and John Ashcroft sent their college interns to talk to us, not having time to get to know people who weren’t old enough to vote for them. The energy of the Capitol Building and all the office buildings around it is intoxicating and magical and I was lucky enough to experience it.
The United States Capitol Building in 2017.
When I was in DC for the 4th of July in 2009, I was shocked to see how different the city was after 9-11. It was harder to tour the White House, Capitol Building, and Library of Congress. There was more security everywhere, and not just because of the upcoming holiday. It was obvious that most of the new fencing and other security measures had been in place for more than just a week or two. It was shocking to see a city at the center of our democracy so closed up.
This city is the seat of US history and democracy for me. The place that holds the rooms where it all happens in our democracy. The center of our work towards forming a more perfect union. When the Capitol Building was stormed on January 6, I was angry at the desecration. This anger gave way to deep sadness as I realized yet another level of openness would be lost from the insurrection. That while our democracy is still standing and the flag is still there, some of our innocence was also lost. That we are a divided, not United States of America.