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Packing the Suitcase:
or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Stress |
by Kevin Risner
Hypothetical situation: I leave in less than 24 hours. No sweat. Seriously, none at all. My suitcase is open, mouth ready to devour all I sacrifice to it. I shall feed it forthwith. The diet it's been on has come to an end. It will taste the most delicious of parkas, the most delectable of T-shirts, the most succulent tube socks known to humankind.
There are people who dash hither and thither, freakishly moaning that they have no time to stuff three cities into four suitcases. Me -- I calmly roll a pair of boxers and stuff it along the sides of my one piece of luggage, alongside my two pairs of jeans. The T-shirts get the same fate, rolled like fresh cigarettes, a space-saver like you would not believe.
There are giant Ziploc-like plastic bags that squeeze out air -- all of it -- from its insides. Bulky jackets, my pillow, shoes -- they all are inserted into these giant bags. They will maintain a squashed appearance inside the gaping jaws of the beast. But they come out unscathed in the end; it only adds a touch of extra weight to the overall load as it is placed into the suitcase. Nothing a bit of pre-checking on a scale won't cure.
It's like weighing in a heavyweight champ, to be honest. How close to the target amount can we get? Can we reach the limit with all the appropriate piece of clothing, all the forbidden carry-on items wedged between towels? You'll undoubtedly need space for these unallowable objects. Guys, put your electronic razors there; to all, put your alarm clock deep within (tick-tick-ticks in carry-ons will not be a good thing to proudly show the security man if he chooses you for the random search). All "weapon-like" items need to be stored in the main baggage, the ones tucked neatly beneath the plane. My dilemma this time around (Upon writing this, departing for London, then off to Istanbul) is trying to smuggle my jump drive through security. It's a Swiss army knife, a respectable replica. Features include mini-scissors, nail file, tiny knife, baby flashlight, and a never-working pen. This is definitely not a passable item in any messenger bag. I could stow it in a suitcase, but the lost-luggage possibility is there. It happened to me upon my return to the USA from abroad, in October of 2008, and I don't want this drive lost; I have everything backed up, but I prefer it to be readily available without the fears of it being missing somewhere between Cleveland and Istanbul. Evil things might happen. The cosmos will be upended. Screw 2012. The world will end now if this occurs!
But that worry will be taken care of soon. My packing tosses aside fear and worry; in goes a minimum two-week collection of clothing -- enough space for seasonal attire, two pairs of shoes, that's all. Nothing extraneous.
Keep this in mind: Make sure you weigh it in the end. Weigh it! I had to deal with a bigger restriction in size and weight when leaving Munich for Istanbul, flying with Lufthansa. Thankfully, I wore my winter coat on the flight because of near-freezing temperatures in Germany (even though it was a balmy 65 in Istanbul when I landed). As I lifted the Atlas-crippling suitcase onto the scale in Munich, the attendant grinned and said: "Right at the limit!"
I squeaked by thanks to environmental conditions, but make sure you check for this in advance. I used my first flight's limitations when testing the Big Kahuna suitcase, not Lufthansa's. By sheer luck I paid no fines when leaving Munich. Don't follow my past errors; take heed and weigh in beforehand.
Carry-ons are what you want, minus weapons, liquids, and enormous personal items. They do have size-limits for bookbags, etc. Also very, very personal items -- that sketchy porno mag or (for the ladies) your battery-operated boyfriend -- would be best to leave behind, unless you are unabashed if that sly security person searches your bag and out it falls for public viewings. A friend of mine had mentioned a time when this happened. Basically, she saw a 60-year-old woman asked to remove her "marital aid," explain what it was, and turn it on to make sure it was really an electronic device. So, it's good to know that the airport could pose repercussions not to be taken lightly if you aren't man (or woman) enough to receive a bit of embarrassment with a stiff upper lip.
I might pack the day before, but you might not be as ready for the rapid, dash-through-the-house antics that packing might entail. Hell, I might not be ready this time around. Have a glass of scotch handy, keep someone level-headed at your side (helps to have a double- or triple-checker, and, in my case, a quadruple-checker), tag your luggage with your address (or your new one in the foreign land of your choosing), and keep your fingers crossed.
Be economical. Be punctual. Be smart. Be cool. Most of all, be ready to enjoy yourself. This is the start. Make it a good start. A good start into something new, enjoyable, and hopefully life-changing.
Kevin had his bio eaten by kitties. Sorry to disappoint. We are disciplining them, though.
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