Flying’s Easy With Sounds of Music

The rich voice of Carly Simon was insistent:

“You must remember this. A kiss is still a kiss. A sigh is still a sigh. . . . “

Ah, Casablanca. Ah, Bogart. Ah, me.

The voice of the flight attendant who interrupted was insistent:

“Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts in preparation for landing in Dallas-Fort Worth. The local time is 9 p.m. The captain informs me that the temperature has dropped to the mid-80s. . . .” By the time she had thanked us for being there and turned the microphone back to music, my song had ended. Play it again, Carly.

Forgettable Flicks

I can take or leave movies on an airplane. If I do see them, I often forget them. I’m later surprised at how good or bad they are on TV or at a movie house or in a cruise ship theater.

But the audio entertainment channels on a headset have made many long flights tolerable. I can blot out crowds and noise by listening to rhythmic pop classics, or compelling symphonies or a lively comic routine. I often doze while lulled by the sound of music.

Ten years ago, just days, in fact, after my first trip to Casablanca, the sonorous voice of Roberta Flack--and that of an able pilot--pulled me through the roughest flight of my life.

It was a December night over the North Atlantic. Clashing air currents caused such turbulence that the 747 was buffeted like a single-engine plane. The captain told the crew to stop dinner service and sit down and buckle up while he sought smooth air.

Pianist George Shearing was across the aisle, on his way to a concert in London. His nimble fingers clutched the armrests. I closed my eyes and retreated into my shell. For much of an hour I hummed along with Flack and her hypnotic “Killing Me Softly With His Song.”

Recently I flew from San Francisco to Dallas without speaking to the passenger at my right. It was not a hostile action. I needed to be alone. He read and napped beneath a headset and so did I.

It was a good thing that I rested on that leg of the journey. After changing to a smaller plane I sat by a baby who began shrieking right after takeoff. Her mother tried to apologize, but I couldn’t hear because of the wail of a 2-year-old across the aisle.

The man in front of us put away his papers and pulled a Sony Walkman from his briefcase. In went the earphones. On went the tape. His shoulders relaxed.

As we landed, the baby calmed and accepted a pacifier. Her face paled from purple to pink.

I asked the man with the earphones what tape had brought him such peace.

“I recorded the sound of my electric razor,” said the frequent flyer. “Puts me to sleep every time.”

Music. Toys. Razors.

Whatever gets you through the flight.