On my early morning connecting flight, I find myself sitting next to two Somali kids, about 6 years and 8 years of age. The mother sits behind me with two other children, even younger than these two, and she's got her hands full. The little boy sitting in the middle seat next to me is terrifically talkative, and we're not even belted in before I know that this is the very first airplane flight for either of them, that they were born in the US but have never been to Somalia, that his little sister is a genuine pain in his butt, that they are connecting through to catch a second plane. Others in the family, including a grandmother, are apparently further back in the plane
They want to know everything about every aspect of the flight, so I explain what I can to them, the various sounds they are hearing, what they will feel as they take off, how long the first flight will be (barely time to get up before we'll come down again), and where we are on the map in the back of the airline magazine, where they will be going as they head to Africa. Several times the little girl wants to get out of her seat, but so I have to explain to her that it's not a good idea, and I point out the seatbelt sign overhead and explains its symbolism. This keeps her quiet, as she stares intently at the plastic illumination for virtually the whole flight.
The little boy is having trouble with the entertainment system on the seat back ahead of him, so I show him how to plug his earphones into the arm rest (he's brought his own), how to flip the dial on the control to access the various video and audio channels.
"Music," he says. " I would like to listen to music."
"What kind of music do you want?" I say. "They have many channels." I point out on the screen in front of him the options available.
He thinks for several seconds, then lights up. "I would like to hear Johnny Cash," he says. "That would be great."
We do find a country western channel for him, but I fear it will be full of today's western music icons: Miranda Lambert, Tim McGraw and all the rest. But 20 minutes into the flight suddenly I find a warm, sweaty earbud poked into my left ear. The boy beams up at me as I recognize "Burning Ring of Fire."
"See. Johnny Cash," he says with delight, and pops the earbud out of my ear and stuffs it back into his own. HIs liquid brown eyes twinkle at me.
What a country we live in.
Old Geezers Out to Lunch
The Geezers Emeritus through history: The Mathematician™, Dr. Golf™, The Professor™, and Mercurious™
I hope the little fellow mesmerized all his fellow passengers on the flight. And good for him; Johnny Cash is a good thing.
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ReplyDeleteThe way children are curious about everything: great! And they know what they want: also great. I see them before me, and when I think of her mum she will have been happy that you let yourself be amused by her children and vice versa: great too.
ReplyDeleteWhen we get right down to it more people are cool than not. They sound like a very nice family.
ReplyDeleteA great story and it's a great world where kids from Africa grow up in America listening to Johnny Cash... I expect they had a trip of a lifetime. A few years ago, I sat in the middle of a Vietnamese family on a flight across the Pacific. The dad had been in the S. Vietnamese army and was taking his family back for the first time since the war (he got out in the late 70s). The grandkids were all excited, some of them having never flown.
ReplyDeleteAnother wonderful slice of life in your post. You tell of a heart warming encounter and leave me wanting to know more about the children and their travels. And yours.
ReplyDeleteThat's a helluva song!! The man in black. What an incredible singer.
ReplyDeleteA clash of cultures and everyone involved was the better for it.
ReplyDeleteI bet their mom was so relieved and happy that you were so nice to her children and maybe more importantly, you kept them occupied.
Another great post!