Sleeping on Planes

God did not design man to sleep sitting up. 

I recently had this thought while traveling at 575 miles per hour at 35,000 feet over the Atlantic Ocean. Yes I was in an airplane at the time. 

I sat alone with my musings in a dark Delta tube only illuminated by seatback entertainment screens. There was heavy breathing and snoring all around me.  

The scene of the crime was a prison cell marketed as “Comfort +.”

This space on the plane is purported to have additional legroom and features other minor perks. Like when you open the overhead luggage compartment it says, “Reserved for our Comfort + Passengers”. How nice to be sitting so close to my very own luggage compartment. I won’t be bothered by people coming to retrieve their household goods from a mini-storage unit, or a librarian storing magazines and books above my head. This space is mine, all mine. 

Oh, and don’t forget the complimentary wine and beer. The wine? No points from Wine Spectator or Popular Mechanics. The beer? Miller Lite and a mediocre player to be named later. 

But even if you get totally toasted on free booze, you will still notice that the seats only recline 5%. Five lousy percent. 

I guess I should send Delta a thank you letter for not going the route of budget carriers who have embraced “pre-reclined” seats that give you a whopping 3%. By comparison that is the difference between a warm hug and a strait jacket. 

You can only justify going transcontinental on one of these airlines if you are being transferred from a CIA safehouse to a maximum-security prison. 

It is a fact that the brain prefers sitting up to lying down. Lying down elevates your ICP. (Which you all know to be intercranial pressure.). 

But sitting up engages more muscles for posture and stability. For example, muscles in the core, back, and legs work to maintain an upright position. While this is true in all of us, as for me, my muscles seem to be shouting, “Hey Jethro, I’m working to maintain your upright position in this extra legroom, 5% reclined torture chamber.” 

They seem to demand my attention, interrupt my counting of sheep, and laugh at me as I try to ignore all the snoring filling the darkness. 

While I swear that the general population is not designed to sleep in a sitting position, there are some people who have a sleep button on their butts and crash immediately upon putting their tray tables in a fully upright and locked position. 

It is difficult for me to say that I hate those people because my wife is one of them. Over the years I have even tried sitting in another section of the plane so that while I know that she is in deep relaxed sleep as we glide over the ocean, I don’t have to see her doing it. Restless insomnia plus infuriating envy is not a good combination for marital relations. 

And please DO NOT mention the biggest scam since Charles Ponzi, namely neck pillows.  

We have bought our share of these spongy unfulfilled promises but have a problem remembering them when we leave home for a trip. Not to fear, Hudson News has them proudly displayed at every airport in the world. They await your purchase with their listed guarantees worthy of the Hyundai manufacturer's warranty. Your comfort, dreamless sleep, refreshed arrival, and lifelong relationship costs a mere $20. As you hand over your credit card, you recall the pillow collection gathering dust in your closet at home. 

I think the review from Walter Macmurdo of Portland Oregon sums it up best. 

A neck pillow doesn’t help you sleep, isn’t particularly comfortable, looks silly, and takes up precious space in your carryon. Save your money and suffer like normal human beings or do what every rich person does and pop a Xanax and pass out before the flight starts. 

Wait. Is that perhaps the secret and not a butt-concealed sleep button? Maybe so, but jetlag is complicated enough without some random chemistry added to the mix. 

Stand by readers. I feel an elitist admission coming on. 

Ever since we succumbed to the siren song of ridiculously priced business class seats for a trip to Africa in 2019, I have been spoiled forever. It was the one condition that I demanded if we were going to be locked in a silver tube for 22 hours. You know the, we can't afford this trip anyway, so why not go first class approach?

I remember the Japan Airlines television ad years ago where at the push of a button, the airline seat fully reclined into a bed with all the comforts of home within an arm's reach. The immaculately uniformed flight attendant fluffed the pillow and tucked in the happy traveler. It seemed so very remote at the time. 

But there I was. Taking selfies like a country bumpkin the moment I got to my quiet little cubicle, I was as excited about the flight as I was about the destination. Not since my first flight to visit Aunt Jean in 1966 had I been as psyched about a trip. 

And then, after a welcome champagne, hot scented towels, linen tablecloth and serviette, good wines, great food, and pampered treatment, I pushed the magic button and slid into the horizonal heaven for which I had dearly paid. To sleep, perchance to dream. Sweet. 

If that weren’t enough, upon landing in Zurich to complete our first leg, I discovered a heretofore hidden world of luxury first class lounge living. Endless food and drink, (a frigging omelette chef?) showers, and comfortable seating...all for “free” (writing that big check for all of this seemed so long ago). These people put the lay in layover. Oops. 

On our recent trip to the UK, I was informed by Hayden that we had a seemingly no-brainer decision to make. We could go to London and back for free using airline miles, or we could buy business class tickets for the approximate trade-in value of our Toyota SUV.

Put that way, I succumbed to the logic (months in advance) and was promised Comfort +. I also agreed to two flights with our miles versus a direct Raleigh to London flight with a different airline. Bad decisions were piling up. 

All this logic escaped me as I was tossing and turning at 43,000 feet above the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. 

As I told Hayden after touchdown at Heathrow, “At 3:00am, I would have gladly written a check for $7,000 on the spot.”