Imagine whining about the lack of airline food.

Some of us infrequent fliers are far more concerned about having safe flights than sky meals so we hardly miss the mystery meat once served on covered trays. Or, some years later, the sandwiches filled with pressed turkey or thinly sliced – actually, translucent – ham.

Nope, just give us our 3/16 ounces of gingerbread Biscoff and we’re full as a tick.

What we don’t understand are those hot wet towels offered after a complimentary beverage, handful of peanuts, or a cookie the size of a Communion wafer. If that wet wipe were doused in ether, we’d like it better; then, we could pass out until our final destination.

Most people really don’t like flying. They jump when the landing gear is sucked into the belly of the plane. They grip the armrests when the plane sinks and tilts in turbulent clouds. They close their eyes and pray a lot. They cringe when the pilot makes an announcement. They scan the first class, then coach seats, hoping to find nuns or babies, whose time to go isn’t quite yet.

They never even talk to other passengers until the final descent, when the runway spreads before them as the solid ground it is; and they can relax and laugh and chat with fellow travelers about the lack of meals.

When they were airborne, most of them couldn’t have swallowed yogurt, much less a hamburger, their stomachs were in such knots from nervousness or motion sickness. (That’s why restroom doors always say “occupied.”)

But, when taxiing to a slot somewhere near their concourse – say, within the distance of a football field – the faux bellyaching begins. Everyone then complains. The letters in USA Today the very day we were flying home from down south to Down East reflected people’s views on airline meals, or the lack of them. The letters were, if you will, food for thought.

“As a flight attendant for the past 20 years, I’ve become amazed at the increase in the number of whiny, needy and self-centered passengers aboard airline flights,” wrote Karen Minor from Rockledge, Fla. “Many airlines are fighting for survival, but it appears that the general public could care less. Well, aren’t we spoiled? It’s a shame we can’t make everyone happy.”

Another letter writer pointed to the dining options at airports themselves, given the absence of food other than peanut butter crackers on planes. “I always enjoy flying into Boston’s Logan Airport for a chance to savor real clam chowder and a fresh crab or lobster entr?e at Legal Sea Foods,” wrote Robert Raymond from Columbus, Miss. “In fact, it is a fine-dining experience that makes your trip through Boston something to look forward to.”

A writer from Boston disagreed. He complimented the industry on tougher security and said he had not “experienced much frustration” with delays. Yet, he griped about the lack of airline food. “I’d be willing to pay $10 or $20 more a ticket to get fed a decent meal on a flight,” wrote Bryn Dearborn.

Some of us don’t complain. We kind of agree with Karen from Rockledge, Fla., and with the airlines themselves. We’re “fighting for survival” when we fly. We’re surely not worried about starving to death. Most everyone. The rest of us thank the crew effusively for bringing that plane up and down in one piece.