No gum for you!

(from Bobby)

I spent Thursday through Sunday in south Florida on a reporting trip. I’ll share more details when I have the energy. (Read: Productive, busy, tiring trip.)

Alas, I could not let my experience at the Palm Beach International Airport go without blog comment.

From time to time, the air pressure on flights gives me terrible problems with my ears. Two weeks ago, when I flew to Kansas City for the weekend, I had what I considered a minor sinus infection. After my hour flight to K.C., my ears were so stopped up that I thought my head was going to explode. By that Sunday, I was feeling a bit better, but the return trip only exasperated the situation. When my ear was still giving me trouble three days later, I went to see Dr. Jayne and learned that I had an infection. He prescribed an antibiotic and I was feeling better by the time I left for Florida this past Thursday.

But after that long-winded buildup, what I wanted to say is that – because of my occasional ear trouble flying – I always chew gum when taking off and landing, and in between, except when I’m drinking the “complimentary” beverage (and don’t you love that description of a 50-cent can of Coke after you’ve paid a few hundred dollars for the ticket. But I digress …).

Well, Sunday afternoon, I arrived at the airport in West Palm Beach with no gum. I figured I’d just go to an airport bookstore/gift shop and buy a pack.

Imagine my surprise when I couldn’t find a single pack of gum anywhere at the CRAZY PALM BEACH INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT. (At this point, I should offer my thanks for the FREE WIRELESS INTERNET at this same airport. By my concern Sunday night was CHEWING GUM.)

Certain that my eyes were playing tricks on me, I made one final eye scan of the entire airport store for gum.

They had Tums, Imodium AD, Snickers, giant bags of cheese-flavored Chex Mix and every other imaginable name-brand item that you could want to stick in your mouth. But, as best as I could determine, no Orbit bubblemint gum (my favorite). And not even any plain ole Wrigley’s Juicy Fruit.

Finally, I asked the clerk, “Where’s the gum?”

She gave me a bewildered look like this hick from Oklahoma had just asked her the stupidest question she had ever heard.

“We don’t sell gum anywhere in this airport,” she said. “People like to stick it all over the place.”

Tired from my trip and a bit cranky over this surprising development, I paused. And maybe I grunted.

“Well, what about people whose ear drums like to bust when they don’t chew gum on the plane?” I asked. (Yes, I know, years of reporting experience have given me a knack for asking intelligent, probing questions.)

“That’s why we sell all kinds of other chewy things,” she said, with a straight face.

Oh. Right. That makes perfect sense.

I paused again. Then I picked up a small bag of Skittles and handed her my check card.

Minutes later, as the plane left the terminal, I started chewing the Skittles, one at a time. I was almost out by the time we actually took off. I was completely out by the time we landed.

But although my ears popped a little on the two-hour flight, my head managed to stay attached to the rest of my body. I experienced no sharp, piercing pains.

I was feeling so well that I considered going gum-free on my connecting flight from Houston to Oklahoma City, too.

Nah, just kidding.

I rushed off the plane at Bush Intercontinental and straight to a gift shop where, amazingly enough, I found long rows of chewing gum right next to the cash register. What a concept. Me and Mr. Wrigley enjoyed a nice, carefree flight home.