Lessons learned

On Monday afternoon I came closer than I’ve ever knowingly come to someone in the act of dying.
I was on a plane at the time, on the way back from a week’s vacation in Arizona. We’d been in the air for about half an hour when the captain asked a doctor or nurse to come to the first class cabin. A few minutes later, he announced we’d have to return to Phoenix. Paramedics who did not to be in any too big a hurry took the man off the plane on a stretcher with a blanket over his head. I was sitting about 30 rows back.
I’d like to say I learned something profound from this experience — something about how precious a human life is, maybe, or how quickly it can be gone. I’d like to say it made me appreciate the things I have, or made me want to hug my mom and thank her for being there for me.
The thing I thought most, though, as I waited through the process that delayed my return home by 2 1⁄2 hours, was, “Man, I’m glad I bought a new book before we left.”
So, maybe I didn’t learn any significant lessons about the human condition during my trip to the greater Phoenix area, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t learn anything. Vacations can be very informative if you know where to look.
For example, I learned:
• Airport security is a hassle: This was the first time I’d flown since Sept. 11, 2001, and security at the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport was more than a little depressing. There’s no real way to feel dignified as you push a little bin filled with your possessions into an x-ray machine. One of the security guards wore a pin that read, “Freedom Isn’t Free,” which I took to mean, “Hey, it’s either this or get bombed, so shut up, take off your shoes and show me your driver’s license.”
• Airplane aisles are narrow; people are not: I had aisle seats both to and from Phoenix last week. Mostly this was because my mother is convinced it is what I, with my long legs, should want. It is something she continues to believe no matter how many times I tell her I don’t care. It’s sweet, I guess, but it also means that I get smacked in the shoulder about 15 times per flight by wide-bodied people making their way to or from the bathroom. Has anybody ever looked into whether Americans might be a little overweight?
• Phoenix is a good place to be in the gate business: I suppose it could be something to do with the fact we stayed in a pretty high-end suburb of the city — I’ve never seen so many Porche SUVs, Ferarris or Lamborghinis — but, seriously, every other neighborhood required a special passcard to get in. Apparently, the people of Scottsdale don’t like unexpected visitors.
• Pigs can be scary: Really, they can. We were walking in the neighborhood where we were staying one night when we saw a group of mysterious shapes in the dark. After staring at them nervously for a while (“Are those wolves?” my brother asked, although he might have been joking), we decided they were javelinas, a kind of wild pig native to the area that is none too shy of people. We kept going, giving them a wide berth, and were nearly to our destination when two more charged out of a nearby garage. I didn’t push my brother at them and run screaming into the night, but it was a near thing.
Actually, I was already a little nervous about pigs, thanks to the story of Ira Ives. Ira, we reported in one of our Looking Back entries a few years ago, was a farmer in the area long ago. One day one of his mules kicked him in the leg, breaking the bone. As he crawled back to the house to get help, several of his pigs tried to eat him alive. It really puts bacon in a whole new perspective.
I learned a few other things — biking uphill for nine consecutive miles is hard, for example — but those are the main things. Well, that and make sure the person sitting next to you on your next flight looks healthy enough to make it to the end of the flight.