I used to love the airport as a kid. We would arrive early to pick up a relative, usually my grandparents, for the holidays. I loved the adventure of it. The parking lot, the long walk into the building and then the security line.
During long walk down the hallway to the security line the excitement would build. I loved every minute of it. No need for a ticket, they just let you roam the whole place.
One holiday, it must have been Christmas, we had two trips to the airport. The first trip was pretty uneventful except I was pretty curious about the metal detector. How much metal would it take to set off? My winter coat had a long row of metal snaps, maybe a dozen in all. I was pretty sure today would be the day I would set of the detector. As I approached I wondered what they would say, how closely they would search me and how loud the beeps would be, it was exciting!
Sadly, no such luck.
I planned my strategy in the car ride home from my next trip in a few hours, I would load my pockets with change.
I was only about five which meant all the money I had was mostly nickels and pennies, it was the metal I needed.
I was ecstatic when I set off the alarm that day, not so much for security and my parents.
Flash forward to today, I am at the airport waiting for a flight. The security lines, masks, and ongoing alerts for safety.
I miss the days of the joys of the airport.
(Years ago I used to take a ton of redeye flights. Transportation to the airport was difficult so I had to show up sometimes as much as six hours early. I loved walking through the empty walkways in the deep night. The quiet of a super busy place is fun to experience.)