As an air traveler who has logged thousands of miles flying back and forth to visit our son in Boston during the past four years, I was thrilled when Alaska Airlines announced it was beginning daily nonstop service from Seattle to Boston in April.

Sure, it would have been nice if they had started the flights back in 1998 when our family’s coast-to-coast cruising commenced, but I’m not whining. After all, maybe our soon-to-graduate son will be one of the few college grads who gets a job right out of the box — and maybe it will be in Beantown.

Whatever the future holds, it’s nice to know that Boston is only five-and-a-half hours away, tailwinds permitting. It’s a fun city to visit, whether you have family or not.

Much to my surprise, I was on the inaugural Seattle to Boston flight last week. And wow, do those Alaska Airlines folks know how to put on a party! The festivities included complimentary food and beverages at the gate, a ribbon cutting ceremony (well, ribbon ripping — no scissors allowed), a gift bag of goodies for all of us as we boarded the Boeing 737 and complimentary champagne and orange juice during the morning breakfast flight. We even received colorful, classy certificates verifying that “Alaska Airlines had the pleasure of welcoming Sue Frause on board the inaugural Seattle to Boston flight on April 4, 2002.”

Is this how Charles Lindbergh felt, or Amelia Earhart? I was flying high, even more so when I found out that they’re offering double mileage between Seattle and Boston through June 15.

But one thing any airline can’t guarantee is who you’re gonna sit by — even customer-friendly Alaska. Usually I request an aisle seat (closer to the food and beverage cart, not to mention the restroom) and pray that there’s nobody in the middle. I was in luck; the morning flight to Boston wasn’t full, giving most of us plenty of elbow room to enjoy the historic event.

All seemed calm until Mister Chatty came on board. Now, I don’t like to dabble in traveler profiling, but you know the type: These travelers are all atwitter about their upcoming trip and can’t wait to share their past, present and future travel tales with you. I spotted Mister Chatty coming down the aisle, and I knew he was headed my way. As he eyed the overhead bin above my seat, he seemed a little too eager, a little too perky and just a little too smiley for my tastes. After all, I’d been up since 3:30 a.m., packing my bag and readying to catch the 5:30 ferry. I was looking forward to reading the morning newspapers, my stash of magazines, and sipping OJ and champagne all the way.

It wasn’t meant to be.

Mister Chatty began running at the mouth right after he stashed his belongings in the overhead bin, secured his seat belt and put his tray table in the upright position. At first, I tried to be cordial. “Hello, how are you, what takes you to Boston?” and all that stuff.

And in partial defense of Mister Chatty, I’m sure I’ve been called Ms. Chatty on occasion. But here’s the difference between Mister Chatty and me. I test the waters, and if I’m sitting next to somebody whose head is buried in a Dell laptop, has Sony headphones strapped around his skull and never mumbles a phrase except “Scotch on the rocks,” then I figure my fellow passenger probably doesn’t want to converse. Let alone chat.

Mister Chatty didn’t care; he just chatted on, no matter what. At first I tried the nose in newspaper routine, thinking if he saw me reading the Wall Street Journal he’d figure I was off on a business trip and would leave me alone.

But no. I heard about his trip to Sea-Tac, his family back home, where he grew up and all about his job.

Since the Wall Street Journal wasn’t working, I switched to the post-Oscar edition of People magazine — surely that picture of Gwyneth Paltrow looking like she just felt out of a big bad vat of Maybelline mascara would scare him away.

People didn’t do the trick — nor did Time or Newsweek. Mister Chatty kept chatting away, commenting on anything that flew through his head. I even tried reading while eating my breakfast omelet, face down in the eggs and printed word. But to no avail! Mister Chatty didn’t miss a word. I was beginning to get a headache.

We landed at Logan well ahead of schedule, and I bid Mister Chatty farewell. For the next three days I didn’t give him much thought, until I arrived at the gate for my flight home. There was Mister Chatty, waving and smiling and just dying to tell me all about his most excellent adventure. I responded with a polite wave and nothing else.

Mister Chatty didn’t sit next to me on the flight home. Every once in awhile, I’d look back to see if he was chatting with the passenger next to him. Not a peep. Mister Chatty was sound asleep.

Maybe he just ran out of words.

Contact Sue Frause at skfrause@whidbey.com.