I was almost several years outdated the first time I ever stepped foot on an airplane. I was acbusinessing my mom to visit my good Grandfather down south in the year leading up to his passing. Although it was a somber trip, my mom didn’t let me see it at the time. She was cheerful to see my excitement at going up into an airplane for the first time ever. I got to see outside the window and look down at mountain tops when the two of us flew over the Appalachians. It was a sublime experience, one that was repeated each time I boarded a plane to visit my Dad after my parents divorced and my Mom took my sibling and I to another state. I enjoyed flying in planes for years until I reached my 20s. Lots of things have lost their appeal as I’ve grown older, but flying in particular has become a substantial pain. I dislike the cost of the tickets, the fact that you’re paying to check a single bin of luggage in multiple cases, the frustrating TSA pat-down, and the claustrophobic environment inside the plane. I dislike hearing screaming babies and having children kick my seat from behind. The last time I flew the air conditioner wasn’t laboring properly inside the plane. The two of us were above the clouds and in full sunlight, adding to the heat inside the plane. I started to sweat and observed others were as well. Not a single flight attendant or pilot mentioned the lack of cooling system during the flight, despite the fact that it clearly wasn’t laboring the entire time.