The Last Annual Absolute Ceiling Business Traveler's Buyer's Guide

A few months ago while thumbing through the New York Times app, I saw a headline for “The Best Gear for Travel 2019.”  Given the direction of this here website, you would think something like that would interest me, but instead I experienced a vague sense of unease. 

Perhaps it was the deflated feeling that comes with the realization that the New York Times, the sober organ that weighed down the breakfast tables of my youth with its keen reportage and dense black typeset, has become just another shill for Corporate America.  Then again, the NYT has become more and more unreadable over the past several years, so I think that particular ship may have already sailed.

Perhaps it was the use of the word “gear” in the headline, implying that the reader is preparing to hike the Appalachian Trail, when most likely she’s just headed to a conference room at a Marriott somewhere.  Of course, this kind of strategy has been used effectively for years to peddle sport-utility vehicles to soccer moms, and these headline writers know their craft. 

Or perhaps it was the implication that the inconvenience and anxiety of traveling can be overcome, or at least neutralized, through the acquisition and utilization of stuff.  “If only I had the right pair of travel underwear,” the thinking goes, “then I would be able to endure the hell that is five and a half hours in a middle seat on Delta.” 

I wonder to what extent this is about control, or rather the illusion of control – the idea that if I can somehow create an environment more comfortable, convenient, productive, and/or pleasurable, it might obviate the fact that I’m trapped here inside a metal tube, hurtling 37,000 feet over the Atlantic Ocean, completely at the mercy of the human beings who designed, manufactured, assembled, maintained, refueled, and are flying the metal tube.  By the way, these days many of those tubes are not made of metal but mostly of “CFRP,” or carbon-fiber-reinforced plastic, a tidbit of knowledge which does nothing to quell that particular anxiety.

In any case.  I suppose we all need certain illusions to keep us sane and functional.  Also I figure if I name-drop a few companies in here it might help my site traffic.  Thus:

The Last Annual Absolute Ceiling Business Traveler Buyer’s Guide

Bose QuietComfort 3 Over-Ear Noise-Cancelling Headphones, $350*, www.bose.com

One of the main points of this website, if not the main point, is to try to be more aware and present while traveling for work.  Thus I feel somewhat conflicted recommending that you go isolate yourself underneath a pair of noise-cancelling headphones.  Yet sometimes when on a plane or train one does want to catch a movie or enjoy a podcast, and the flimsy earbuds in plastic wrapping they distribute in economy fall short when it comes to audio quality and ear canal comfort.

I bought my pair of Bose headphones around 2006, and, apart from the leather-ish ear cushions which have eroded down to the bare fabric, they work just as well today.  The power system – involving a small custom battery which detaches from one of the earphones and clicks into an external plug-in charger, and which miraculously I haven’t forgotten in a hotel room somewhere – is a little fiddly, but it still holds a charge just fine, and it’s remained immune from extinction via the evolutionary “advance” of plugs and cables over the years.

So thanks and praise to the good people at Bose for resisting the strategy of planned obsolescence.  I like my MacBook as much as you like yours, but when the Genius at the Cambridgeside Apple Store informs me that the one I bought in 2010 is “like, vintage,” and that therefore it would be actually cheaper for me to buy a new MacBook (which of course comes with a next generation USB-C port, meaning I also need to buy an adapter if I want to plug anything into it) rather than get my old one repaired, I know what time it is.

Unfortunately, and speaking of Apple, I find that I don’t use my headphones to listen to music as much as I used to.  I think this began around 2016, when I started subscribing to their Apple Music streaming service.  In some ways this has been a good thing: I can now listen to a lot more new music and see how I feel about an unfamiliar act before plunking down $12.99 for an album based only on faith or a suspiciously high Metacritic score.  I still do buy the occasional album via iTunes, mainly because I spend a lot of time on airplanes and I want to be able to listen to them while offline.  But generally I use Apple Music as it was designed, streaming the songs via an Internet connection.  And I’m sure that Apple is betting that those remaining few islands of non-connectivity will soon be swallowed by the rising waters of ubiquitous wifi, and that the quaint act of “listening offline” will go the way of the cassette tape.   Still, I’m not sure how comfortable I feel about this whole thing.  Does “renting” rather than “owning” music change my relationship to it?  To what extent do I want to define myself by my record collection?  And what happens when my “record collection” evaporates into a bunch of server farms in the desert, only accessible to me for as long as I keep sending money to Cupertino, CA?   To what extent does a third-party mediator influence my relationship with music, and the artist responsible for it?  Of course, all the recorded music I’ve listened to my entire life has been delivered via some kind of mediator, whether it’s a record label or a radio station or Jack’s Music Shop in Red Bank, NJ.  Still, when the artist/listener relationship starts to drift towards the transient, the transactional, and especially the conditional, I’m not sure that takes us in a good direction. 

And, what do you know: Apple announced in June that it will be shutting down its iTunes software, replacing it with “three all-new apps that greatly simplify and improve the way Mac users discover and enjoy their favorite music, TV shows, movies and podcasts.”   Don’t worry, Apple assures us, users will still have access to their entire music libraries.  We shall see. 

Maybe I’m overreacting here.  Or maybe I’m not.

* Bose doesn’t sell this model anymore, so this is an estimated price for an analogous new pair.

Freitag HAZZARD Backpack, CHF340, https://www.freitag.ch/en/f303

Choosing a bag for your work things can be complicated.  To begin with, there's no consensus on what one should call it these days: “briefcase” is out of style; “backpacks” are for schoolchildren; one is left with the generic “work bag,” which sounds moronic and soulless.  Whatever you call it, it should be functional yet portable, practical yet at least a little stylish. So what are our choices?  The traditional rectangular leather attaché with latches that could be sprung open dramatically in a courtroom seems to have reached extinction.  In my 20’s I had a brown leather “messenger bag,” but those things tend to be pretty heavy and un-ergonomic: my former boss once told me (with a disconcerting hint of pride) that one of her shoulders had become several centimeters lower after years of humping a bag like this from one airport to another.  In the US, one sees a lot of logoed hiking-style backpacks (Ogio seems to have cornered the market on these).  I suppose all those zippered compartments are handy, but they tend to encourage over-stuffing, and the Americans tend to make matters worse by dangling water bottles, hand sanitizer, mini-stuffed animals, carabiners (?) and other bric-a-brac from exterior loops.  On the other end of the spectrum, a friend of mine tells me he’s managed to strip down, Kondo-esque, to a single, sleek neoprene laptop sleeve, which I can only admire longingly.

My Frietag backpack has a polarizing effect on my colleagues.  The Germans all tend to like it.  The Swiss are nonplussed, as you can’t swing a cat in Zurich or Bern without hitting half a dozen Frietag bags.  The Americans are a little confused but tolerant.  And every single one of my French coworkers hates it.  To wit, this exchange with my colleague Eric:

Eric: “Tom, when is your birthday?”

Me (eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise): “My birthday?  Why, it’s September 2^nd.”

Eric: “Good.  I will buy you a new backpack so I don’t have to look at that ugly thing anymore.”

I admit that CHF 340 is steep, but Frietags have a lot going for them.  They make all their bags out of the tarpaulin-like material which they recycle from the side of container trucks.  On top of the ecological benefits (many Frietag bags also use recycled seat belts for their shoulder straps), this also means it’s waterproof, it will probably last forever, and the design and color of each bag are unique, in a “found art” kind of way.  It’s certainly not going to get mistaken for someone else’s bag going through security.  Frietag also has a cool website with stop-motion-animations of their products, starring the people who work in their factory.  If you find yourself in Zurich, go check out their flagship store, which, on-brand, is made up of repurposed shipping containers.

Mivolis Meerwasser Nasenspray, €1.45, www.dm.de

A doctor told me once that no one would ever get colds if they used saline nasal spray every day during the winter.  I don’t know about that, but airplane cabins are pretty dry, and this seems to help.  My in-laws like to bring me these when they visit. 

FALKE RUN Socks, €15, www.falke.com, (they also have a great store in the Munich airport)

I’m aware that there’s a need for self-expression, or even self-definition, going on here.  We want things which will not only make our travels easier and more enjoyable, but which will also say something about us to the guy sitting across the aisle.  I can admit that at least part of my own motivation here is contrarian, as if waving around my German nasal spray is somehow going to make me more interesting / unique / better than your average American pharmaceutical executive.

The same could likely be said about these socks from FALKE, an outfit out of Schmallenberg, Germany, which has been making quality “legwear” (their word) since 1895.  In fact, the FALKE people are already several steps ahead of me when it comes to brand-as-self, as evidenced by their website: “The FALKE scene* is made up of multilingual globetrotters, headstrong individuals, curious explorers, fanatical perfectionists, sensitive creative types and incorrigible aesthetes.  Their imagery, their interior design and their clothing are visible expressions of their instincts.”   This is what Brits in the advertising trade would call a “pen portrait.”  Remember we’re talking about socks here. 

In any case, these socks are truly fabulous.  Soft and cushiony but not too thick, left/right customized so they don’t bunch up around the pinkie toe, with just enough elastic to grip your feet and ankles without strangling them.  I suppose you could run in them, as the name implies, but they’re perfectly fine with a pair of trainers or casual shoes.

* “scene!”

Eric Bompard Cashmere Hoodie, €395, www.eric-bompard.com

Okay, I suppose no one really needs a cashmere hoodie.  But the cabin temperature on an overnight transatlantic typically fluctuates +/- 20F degrees, so this comes in especially handy during the winter months.  When I’m home and the outside temperature is 40F or below, I wear mine essentially every waking hour, so from a cost/utility point of view, it’s probably one of the cheapest things I own. 

Olive Tree Bible Study App, free, www.olivetree.com

I’ve been at this – trying to write about business travel and God and things – for two years now, and I find that it doesn’t get any easier.  On the contrary: paths between various destinations become worn and familiar; the urge to execute the rituals of business travel – transferring electronics and liquids from bag to security bins back to bag with maximum speed and efficiency – draw our attention inward.  It takes more and more effort and discipline to appreciate one’s experience, to try to observe the sacrament of the present moment.    

With this in mind, I try (and I fail, a lot) to spend as much time as possible not looking at my phone when I’m traveling. To try to avoid that blurry, strung-out state when you’re mindlessly scrolling through Twitter, not even recording half of the words traversing your screen, trying to capture something you can’t quite identify and also know you’ll never actually find.       

Of course, if there’s an app that makes your life easier when you’re on the road, then by all means use it.  Likewise, if a piece of “gear” will make you a little more comfortable in your travels, go for it.  But while you’re at it, try to take a moment to weave in something that is more than just a dopamine fix.  Talk to a stranger.  Read and think about a Bible verse if that’s your thing.  Look up and admire the ceiling architecture.  Call a friend you haven’t talked to in a while.  Close your eyes and say a prayer of thanks to the divinity of your choice, or to none at all.