I love the feeling of flying; the rush of takeoff, the lightness at the moment the wheels leave the tarmac, the way you can practically feel the wind under the wings lifting you ever higher. And I love the view, of course. I always get a window seat.And that’s what I was wishing for during this particular check-in. The lines are always endless, there are never enough people behind the ticket counter, and there is inevitably a screaming baby in front of me. Just like today. Damn, I hope I get a window seat, and pray that this baby is not on my flight.I was bound for Fargo, North Dakota. The only way to get there was by one carrier through Minneapolis, and since only Northwest had that corridor, the prices were ridiculous. It was cheaper to fly the economical Air Tran into Minneapolis and drive five hours north in a rented mustang. At the end of the road were two old friends – “radio personalities” (never call them DJs!) I used to work with – and a girl who wanted to be with me. And this 30-minute wait to get my tickets was interminable.As I did my best to ignore the infant’s wailing, I saw three tall guys strolling through the glass doors. They swaggered. They wore fashionably ravaged blue jeans over their boots. They had loose-fitting shirts with collars unbuttoned far enough to show beaded necklaces. They all wore shades. They looked rock and roll.The guitar cases two of them were carrying sealed the impression. They were definitely musicians - maybe some guys in a band. I guessed they were off to Minneapolis to play some small club or party out there. They weren’t carrying luggage, just guitars. I went back to trying to ignore the baby so I could read my newspaper.Twenty minutes later and I was almost at the counter. I had my confirmation slip out and my ID in hand. Suddenly, my flights listing changed from the departure time to a big, red “cancelled.” My eyes opened wide in a questioning stare as a space at the counter opened up.I asked what happened to the fight, and I was told it was grounded due to mechanical problems. But the lady assured me that they were going to ticket me, and that I should hurry over to American Airlines where they would honor the ticket for remaining seats on a flight that left in 20 minutes. Fortunately, I packed for carry-on only. I grabbed my boarding pass and took off to the American gate.I made it with only a few minutes to spare. They gave me a seat assignment and I boarded. The flight was pretty crowded, with a few empty rows in the far back. I looked for my seat.Crap, I got an aisle seat, which means I had nowhere to look except at other people while I enjoyed the feeling of flight. As I hunted for a spot in the very back to stow my luggage, the three musicians were coming up the lane. Two of them with short, hip hair took the seats directly across the aisle from my seat. The third guy, with long blonde rock-and-roll-with-black-roots curly hair was standing by my seat. As I walked up, he asked, “mind if I take the aisle seat instead?”Well, that was fortuitous, I thought as I slid next to the window, threw my headphones on and listened to my latest mix tape while the ground crew finish prepping the plane. We were in the air 20 minutes later.As the flight started in the evening sun, I heard the guy sitting next to me joking and laughing with his friends across the aisle. I didn’t bother tying to listen in. My eyes were closing and my music was good.I woke up an hour later refreshed. The snack cart was finally making its way to the back of the plane. I took my headphones off so I could get bloody mary mix from the flight attendant. As I started pouring it into my plastic glass, my neighbor looked over and commented, “sure you don’t need something else in there?”I laughed, and explained my stomach can’t handle booze. I introduced myself.“I’m Chad.”I couldn’t resist asking. “I saw the guitars earlier. You play I take it?”“Yeah. We’re in a band. That’s Ryan and Dan.” He pointed across the aisle. Both their eyes were closed, headphones on.”Me: “I’m a drummer myself.”“That’s Dan’s job.”“Cool, are you guys from New York?”“No, Canada.”“Ah, my favorite band is Canadian. Rush.”“Yeah, there good. Really talented.”After a pause I continued. “So are you playing a gig out in Minneapolis?”“Yeah. We were playing a festival early today in New York for K-ROCK. Got a show in Minneapolis tomorrow night.”K-ROCK is New York City’s most popular contemporary rock radio station, the place where Howard Stern ruled the morning airwaves. Their concerts were a big deal, with up-and coming bands as well as small, unknown indies. The small talk became interesting.“So you are signed?” I asked.“Yeah. We are with CBS.”“No kidding. That’s pretty cool. So… whats the bands name?”“Nickelback.”Nothing. I search my mind, and there was nothing there. I was clueless.“Nickelback? I’m sorry, but I don’t think I have heard of you…”Chad: “Do you listen to K-ROCK?”“Yeah, its always on in the background.”“Well, we have a song in the top ten right now and it’s in their playlist.”“Hmmm… I guess I’ve heard it, but I don’t really pay much attention to the artists. It’s just kind of on for background, you know? But I’m sure I’ve heard it. What’s it called?”“Someday. Its in rotation on MTv.”Still nothing. “I don’t have cable… and I don’t recognize the name. If its on K-ROCK I’m sure I heard it at some point.”He looked stunned. He glanced over at his band mates who were in their own world. He took a few seconds, and gathered his thoughts.“You listen to rock?”“Of course!” I listed my favorite bands. He agreed with me on a few of them.“And you never heard Someday on the radio…or heard of us?”“No, I’m sorry. And I’m embarrassed – I forgot the name already.. what is it?”Chad was stunned. “Nickelback.”“That’s a cool name. What’s it mean?”At this he smiled. “Ever look at the back of a Canadian nickel? It’s a beaver.”We laughed a little together, and he seemed to relax a little more. I felt bad that I didn’t know his band, but I wasn’t about to lie. We started talking about his influences in music, life in Canada, and his experiences of what it was like to tour. He relaxed a little more. I think he even started to enjoy having a talk about music with someone who wasn’t a fan, someone who didn’t have a clue they had a top-ten hit on the charts at that moment. We were in a discussion about Led Zeppelin when the pilot broke the relative quiet of the cabin with his announcement.“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the pilot. Due to heavy thunderstorms in Minneapolis, we have been circling Detroit for the last 45 hours. Because of the weather, we will be unable to land in the Twin Cities, so we will be landing in Detroit. Airline personnel will be available at the gate to help facilitate your connecting flights to your destination. We apologize for the inconvenience.”The announcement woke his band mates up. “Excuse me,” said Chad, as he turned to talk with them across the aisle. I didn’t catch was they were saying, but at one point, the one with jet black hair looked over at me, nodded and smiled. I returned the gesture. The bell rang, everyone buckled up, and the plane started its decent through some bumpy air. My attention turned back to the window; I love watching the nighttime ground get closer as we land.The airline’s agents had us all penned in at the gate so they could rebook us all on our flights and get us transportation to motels for the rest of the overnight. I got tickets for a 6 am flight, and I looked for a place to sit down until transportation arrived. Chad and the other band mates were in a corner on their cell phones. I figured they would be on the same flight in the morning, and since we had some time to kill, maybe they would like to go for a drink.“We’re gonna stay here,” said Chad. “Just got off the phone with my brother. He’s on the tour bus. They are about an hour from here, and they are turning around and coming back to pick us up. Rather sleep on the bus than in a crappy airport motel.”“I agree with that,” I said. “I don’t suppose you would have an extra bunk so I could tag along to Minneapolis?”“Sorry man, just got enough for us.”I figured I might as well ask. They seemed nice enough, and you never know unless you try.Chad introduced me to the rest of the band. Just as we finished shaking hands, my bus was called. There were good nights all around, and I told them I would pick up their CD and check them out on tour sometime.And I still didn’t have a clue.After a night on an uncomfortable bed, a thirty-minute flight, and a five hour drive north from Minneapolis, I pulled into the parking lot at my friends’ radio station. They were still on the air, and I had been listening to them for the last 30 miles.It was a sweet little reunion in their booth whenever they were off air for a record or commercial. In three-minute spurts, we started catching up. Somewhere in there I managed to tell them about my flight up. When I mentioned Nickelback and my complete ignorance, they were stunned. They showed me that week’s charts. They showed me the CD. They looked at me like I was an alien.And then they played Someday.And at that moment I instantly realized why these guys would only be memorable to me as fellow passengers on a plane, and nothing more.