I very much enjoyed the movie Up In the Air (for some reason the title seems to have lost its «Up» in the French version), starring George Clooney as a rootless, frequent-flying executive. You may not yet have seen the film, but I'm not giving anything away by telling you that Clooney's character has a horror of emotional commitment, to such an extent that he avoids it by travelling more than 300 days of the year. He is addicted to airports, air travel, air miles and even airline food.
What he isn't so keen on, apparently, is the media. For instance, although we see Clooney looking at ties in an airport boutique, we never see him in a bookshop. Since being in an airport is all about killing time, I've slain countless hours in places like Relay, reading the first pages of novels and looking through magazines. I never, ever board a plane without a good book, the International Herald Tribune and at least two magazines (one thing is certain: the Ipad will enable me to travel lighter).
If I'm on a long haul flight, I usually flick through the in-flight magazine. And then I inevitably settle down to watch a movie or a TV show. George is right in that flying represents escape. But it also offers a chance to wallow in your favourite media, comfortable in the knowledge that nobody can disturb you.
