|How and where these words originated|
I am no longer a privileged flier. Call it premier, advantage, select, platinum, elite - I am none of those, these days more of a standard flier. Which leads to more middle seats when flying and the feeling of resignation that accompanies the struggle for elbow room - window and aisle seats have access to the extra space their positions can afford.
I can think of the symbolism of this middle seat, seat 21B to be exact. Sure, it's an exit row, which means more leg room. But it does not accord privileges that spend, flight segments, and miles do - likely what led my row companions to capture the window and aisle seats flanking my position. The work and sacrifice to accumulate what becomes currency is worth it in the end for that seat over, right? Maybe even moving up a class to Business or First? To gain a different level apart from others, even though we are all ultimately heading to the same place on this flight.
That's OK, it's alright - a nice reflection as we taxi to take off. After all, I'm in the middle seat, and this entry forces my elbows close for writing.