People Watching is one of the greatest pleasures of traveling. If the traveling happens to be in the flying mode, People Watching is the only pleasure left. Today’s air travel can be grueling.

For decades, I’ve been flying in and out of Buffalo, mostly to Boston. It’s just under a two-hour drive to the airport, so each trip essentially begins in our driveway. When everything goes as planned, elapsed time from my driveway to my daughter’s, in Lexington, Massachusetts, is usually five hours. Not bad.

Monday, I flew to Beantown – the hard way. The schedules have changed a lot and the only non-stop in my price range means leaving home at zero dark thirty. Seriously, getting up at 2:30 for a 3:30 a.m. drive for a 6:30 flight is my idea of insanity. Especially since my usual bedtime is midnight to 1 a.m.. Fuggedaboudit. Call me a wimp, but I no longer do overnight sleeps of less than two hours.

I wound up using some of my hard-saved miles on another airline. Free was definitely cheaper than the competition’s going rate. But there was a hitch. The freebie wasn’t non-stop. It meant Buffalo to New York, wait 2 1/2 hours, then New York to Boston, arriving at 10 p.m. Nine hours.

Hoo boy. I wasn’t sure I wanted to spend the bulk of the day that way but then I quickly thought, Hey, I haven’t been out of town much lately and I haven’t had a good people-watching session in a l-o-o-o-ng time. I booked the longer flight. My MasterCard stayed in my wallet.

The Buffalo crowd at my departure gate was quiet. Mostly single travelers. College students heading back to school, Monday business people beginning their week, Christmas holiday stragglers. I was listening to upstate New York accents with an occasional “eh” thrown in by the large Canadian contingent that uses the Buffalo Niagara airport.

However, the scene at LaGuardia Airport in New York was fascinating. For starters, I hadn’t been in that particular terminal since the rebuilding of the airport. Physically beautiful, it is an enormous, soaring, space bustling with travelers. A People-Watching nirvana.

I always have a book with me when traveling, just in case. However, I tend to read the same paragraph three times in a row when the People Watching rates five stars – like Monday.

The two toddlers nearest my seat were guaranteed to keep me amused for a while. They were particularly well-behaved in addition to being cute. I kept waiting for a fight, a scream, or a sob to curdle the atmosphere. Nothing. They were pure entertainment. Ahhh.

The seating around me was mostly occupied, every third seat, by single business people, actually more women than men. Everyone used the seat beside them for coat or tote or computer – the buffer seat.

It took a while to tune into the surrounding lingo. It was not New Yorkese I was hearing. It was totally international – so many foreign languages and not one Brooklyn or Bronx accent.

Across the walkway sat an enormous Hell’s Angel and I sat there wondering how he got his biker chains and all his jewelry through security. Intimidation maybe?

A robed middle-eastern woman stood, then removed her hijab, revealing a startling mane of bright red hair. She then rewrapped the head covering and donned sunglasses for the evening.

A pretty young businesswoman rolled her pant legs up above her knees and tugged on a striped pair of long compression socks. I remember when women went to the ladies room to alter their clothes.

As I sat contemplating that change, a loud woman stripped her toddler and changed him into his pajamas. She then changed her infant’s diaper on the seat, setting the well-used diaper on the floor while she added his pajamas. She finally threw the diaper into the trash when their flight was called. Funny, the last 83 ladies rooms I’ve entered have had changing tables.

Then an overwhelming reality hit me. As I surveyed the women in the large area serving five gates, I did not see one other white-haired woman. A few had grey hair and Clairol is still in evidence.

But honestly, every woman I saw was younger than me. Much younger. These passengers appeared to be 20-ish to 60-ish. I laughed to myself as I realized I was probably the oldest woman in the whole arena.

Are the elder seniors not traveling anymore? Has flying become so tedious that staying home is just easier? Is Covid still keeping people home? I don’t know these answers. But this senior’s day was fun anyway.

I guess I’ll just continue to observe, reflect, smile, and laugh. The sport of People Watching softens flying’s tedium. And the snapshots stay in my mind long after I arrive back in my driveway.

Marcy O’Brien can be reached at Moby.32@hotmail.com.