Airports

When I was a little girl, my grandfather was on the Board of Director of Little Rock’s airport. I didn’t think much of it except that I got to see his picture in the airport every time that we went to travel somewhere. I liked to think that he was watching over me as I was going in and out of the airport. It makes me think of the days that you could just go to the gates with your friends. If you had a friend flying out to a different area of the world, you could walk her to the gate and watch as she boarded the plane. This caused an extra, almost unnecessary amount of drama when you are a teenage girl at the airport, but all in all, I enjoyed the experience.

One day when I was about 9 or 10, I was at the airport to pick up my great aunt, godmother, and namesake, Aunt Frances. My Aunt Frances was the best. She was one of the funniest women that I knew, had a fantastic smile, and was my grandfather’s best friend. Naturally, he was at the airport with us. While we were waiting, I used the facilities and something magical happened: the toilet automatically flushed. I stood up from doing my business and it just knew to flush. No buttons, pulls, or pushes were required. I came back out the terminal amazed, “Onnie, did you know that those potties just flush. They just know.” My grandfather got that notorious devilish smile on his face and replied, “That was my idea. We need to keep up our travelers happy and stay up to date like other airports. This was important.” I had no idea that this was part of job responsibilities of a board member at the airport, but my grandfather’s popularity was increasing in my book.

Now when I go to the airport, I am used to the auto-flush. It has become a natural expectations at many shopping malls, movie theaters, and, of course, airports where I visit. The one thing that has always bothered me about airport Lou’s is the incredible close quarters of the stalls. One is expected to fit your rollerbag, carry-on, coat, and your body into this tiny silver stall. I feel a lot more intimate with that toilet as I try to fit it all in there, shut the door, and then turn around to take a seat. It’s exhausting. Unless, you visit Portland International Airport.

Quickly imagine a restroom stall dedicated to people with physical disabilities. It’s nice and spacious and you can kind of dance around in there. No imagine that stall slightly smaller (not by much) and that is every single stall in the PDX women’s restroom area. I would like to sit in on the next board meeting for the PDX airport and thank them for thinking of their travelers. In the words of my grandfather, keeping up with modern needs of travelers and other airports is important. Well done Portland, you are a new Lou that I can truly love.