Flying used to be freeing

   This past week I revisited the devolution of flying on commercial airlines in the current century and for the benefit of my younger readers {of which are legion} I can tell you that what used to be a joyous adventure has become an agonizing exercise in humiliation.
   Leading up to this latest trip was bad enough. I'd say my worst experience was the airport in San Antonio, Texas, where, after 'checking' your bag at the counter during 'check-in,' I had to be paged back to the counter because I stupidly left my bag with the attendant thinking she would place it on the conveyor belt.
  No, no, no.
  After checking in I learned I was to take my bag to another location to have it checked in. And then there was the push through security where one had to have the boarding pass out, two IDs out, shoes off, pockets emptied, carry-on in the tray, quickly, quickly, through the metal detector, quickly, quickly, reassemble your belongings because everybody is being pushed through by arrogant, limited Nazi wannabes who are being paid minimum wage for the privilege of wearing a uniform and telling strangers what to do.
   This last trip was even better.
   Leaving Tampa International Airport I was informed that I also had to remove my belt before entering the full-body scanner. The real pleasure comes after the aforementioned security exercise: standing in front of a gaggle of onlookers as I essentially had to redress. Putting on the shoes isn't so bad, but tucking in the T-shirt and re-threading the belt made me feel like I was being watched by more than 'security' folk. It is humiliating. I guess we should all just wear flip-flops and jogging outfits while carrying our own food, pillows, blankets and two over-stuffed carry-ons in order to have a "pleasant" flight.
   This trip reminded me of another observation, the purported First Class option.
   If I flew First Class — and it would have to be a flight of at least three hours — I would want to board the plane last, not first.
   It appears to me that one of the "benefits" of sitting in First Class is that you have the joy of enduring an endless parade of coach-riding schmoes making inane comments as they bump past you with their two carry-ons and hot coffee, gawking at you as you try to ignore their presence. This traipse of the unwashed (in their T-shirts, shorts and flip-flops) is oftentimes at a standstill because no MBA in aviation has figured out how to load an airplane from the back to the front in order to prevent logjams.
    The folks in First Class seem very uncomfortable during this process as they avoid eye-contact, flipping through magazines and anxiously clutching their already empty beverage cups. I just don't see the point of it.
   One last bit, after landing at Hartsfield in Atlanta and taxiing for a full 20 minutes (I swear we landed in Macon and drove the rest of the way) I started to think that riding a bus might not be that much different.
   I doubt Greyhound makes you undress before you board.