Getting to the Airport After years of study, I have determined there are only two types of people in this world: those who get to the airport early and those who stroll in as the plane is about to take off. If there were any justice in this world, the early-airport people would be rewarded for doing the right thing. And the late-airport people would be punished. But there is no justice. I once found myself in an airport bar with a man on the same flight as me. Our flight had been called three times, but he insisted we stay for another round. "If we miss this one, there's always another plane in an hour," he said, signaling for two more drinks. "To Dhahran, Saudi Arabia?" I said. " There isn't another flight for a week." "I have a theory," he said. "If you miss your flight, it's because God didn't want you to go." I know I was an early-airport person for years. I always told myself my luggage will get on the plane first. Indeed it will, which makes it the last luggage they take off the plane when you land. You know who really gets his luggage first? The late-airport person, who saunters into the airport three minutes before the plane takes off. And when we finally take off, all us early-airport person know that not only will that late luggage be the first off the plane, but it is probably sitting on top of our luggage, crushing our shirts. If I get there real, real, early, I told myself I will get the best seat. But no matter how early I show up, I was always told that someone had called two or three years ahead of me and asked for that seat. After a lifetime of arguing over whether I really have to pack 24 hours in advance and set the alarm clock four hours ahead, I have learned one other fact about early-airport people and late-airport people: They always marry each other.