My house is right at the end of the TF Green runway. Right the end of the runway used by 126462.18 airplanes each day, mostly before 7AM. Of course, Mark Brewer, the new president of the Rhode Island Airport Corporation says that the number is somewhat less than 126462.18, but he does admit that the number has increased 30% this summer. If there were 10 only planes a day in 1996 when the terminal opened and there was 30% increase each season, then with compound interest, my calculator says that there must be 126462.18 flights a day now.

Can't argue with math, though I find it hard to explain that .18 airplane. Do seagulls count as airplanes?

To be fair, the planes don't start taking off and landing before 4AM, so there's plenty of time to sleep. I can sleep as soon as the last planes arrive at night. They're scheduled to all be tucked up in their little airplane nests by 1AM, provided they weren't delayed by weather or given special permission to stay out late for a hot date.

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Now I don't know how often airplanes have hot dates that warrant a later than normal curfew, plane proms being few and far between, but I do know that there are plenty of weather delays. We all know that a butterfly flapping its wings in China can cause a thunderstorm in Kansas, and we all know that a light drizzle in Kansas can cause flight delays here in Rhode Island. So that means that until we drive all of the butterflies in China into extinction, we're going to have weather delays and therefore have airplanes traipsing in to TF Green well past their scheduled bedtime.

So that means that I can sleep soundly between 3AM and 4AM with only a minimal risk of the house being shaken by the roar of a low-flying jet.

But, I guess that shaken by the noise of a low-flying jet is a whole lot better than some folks have. So far, we haven't had any airliners try to park themselves in a Rhode Islander's garage. No room in my garage, I'll have to pull out all of the old furniture and boxes of forgotten yardsale bargains to try to make room. The problem with that is that the airliners that drop in unexpectedly generally do so without calling ahead.

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So I learned to sleep with my head under my pillow.

In the mean time, TF Green is working to expand its runways north and south and houses in this neighborhood have been mysteriously disappearing.

It's a bit eerie to drive home and see a vacant lot where a house was just a day before. One house at a time, and the other houses just stand there like nothing is happening. "Look the other way," the old cape must be saying to the younger ranch, "be thankful it's not you."

"We've got to do something about it," the staid colonial might say, but the other houses just stand there and refuse to talk about it.

So here at the south end of the runway, the neighborhood's taking on a parklike aspect. One or two holdouts remain right under the glide path. Maybe they love airplanes and find the roar of a 737 taking off soothing. Maybe they've found the vinyl windows and central air-conditioning installed by the RI Airport Corporation as noise abatement so wonderful that they want to stay. Maybe they're true Rhode Islanders who would never consider moving, even if it is to an upscale triple-decker in Pawtucket.

Or maybe they're like me, and can't even think of moving until they get enough sleep to figure out how to get the garage cleaned out first.

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