The poet Maya Angelou once said you can tell a lot about a person from the way they respond to three things: a rainy day, tangled Christmas lights and lost luggage.
Maya, Maya. Where were you at 2 a.m. the dark night I arrived in Paris without my bags? I needed my suit for the next morning, not folksy aphorisms or your musings on why the caged bird sings. Personally, I find the caged bird sings most beautifully when he has his laptop charger and toothbrush.
We'll never know quite how Dr. Angelou would cope with the news that a vacation's worth of clean underwear has been flown to the wrong Portland. But she's right to suggest that lost luggage is a near-universal experience. Every frequent traveler will at some point face the drifting tumbleweed on the baggage belt.
Still, if most of us have a tale of luggage gone wrong, it's not because airlines lose a lot of bags. It's because we fly so much. In July alone, 53 million passengers boarded domestic flights. Only about one-third of 1 percent reported a mishandled bag. Given the phenomenal scale of American aviation (measured in seats and miles, the U.S. market is three times larger than any other) and our reliance on luggage-juggling hub airports, that's an excellent result. Even caged birds are treated pretty well by modern air travel (though remarkably, they do get airsick): In July, U.S. airlines lost just one pet.
This success is largely due to the humdrum baggage tag. That random sticky strip you rip off your suitcase when you get home? It's actually a masterpiece of design and engineering. Absent its many innovations, you'd still be able to jet from Anchorage to Abu Dhabi. But your suitcase would be much less likely to meet you there. (Disclosure: I am a pilot for an airline that's not mentioned in this article.)