There’s just something so special about flying in a commercial jet these days. Every time I step off a plane I think once again about what an amazing experience it is that I didn’t have a leg fall off from cramping while sitting in a seat designed for a fourth grader. A small fourth grader.

Yes, truly, flying in the coach section of a modern jet — the word “coach” here substitutes for what the airlines call the “main cabin” and what anyone who’s ever flown in one generously calls the cramped barracks of a third-world prison — is really special.

Unless you are very rich and can afford to sit in the front section of the plane — those are the places where there are beds, butlers, showers, bars, Broadway shows, art auctions and classes in origami — you are doomed to the concentration camp towards the rear, an area packed with cheerless, life-sucked-out-of-them people whose only fault is that they didn’t want to put their life savings into the first-class seating area.

Pity them, for they are us.

Yes, I know your uncle works for one of the major airlines and every Christmas buys you a lovely new tie, but really, is there any reason to like the experience of flying these days? We do know, however, there are lots of reasons not to like flying because a recent survey turned up dozens of things that people don’t like about getting into the coach section (and sometimes even the first class section).

We’re discounting, of course, the fact that you now pay for a seat almost half as wide as the one you paid for 25 years ago. Everybody knows that. Along with the fact that there’s less room — a lot less room — between seats than there was, say, oh, maybe, last year.

No, the list of annoying things on airplanes these days is topped by seat-kickers, the folks who don’t like the lack of space between seats and so they occasionally kick the rear of your seat to remind everyone how miserable everyone is.

The next most annoying feature of flying, according to the survey, is parents who let their children misbehave, followed by passengers who don’t smell very good, people who turn up the volume on their electronic devices, people who drink too much, people who talk too much, and the ones who recline their seats regardless of the fact that doing so pins the person in the seat behind them as surely as if they were a butterfly in a collection. That action is also certain to quickly produce a seat-kicker, which starts the whole thing over.

And we haven’t even gotten around to the overhead bin issues, of which there are many. First, there are never enough overhead bins to accommodate carry-on baggage because the airlines want you to pay the fees they charge, among many other things, for checked baggage. So the battle lines are drawn: get on the plane first however you can and get your bag up there before the bins fill.

And when that happens, then the poor schlubs who couldn’t board earlier are forced to try and squeeze their bags — all of which are packed with carburetors, air-conditioning units and cement-enclosed pachyderms — into the non-existent space. That will almost certainly lead eventually to a round of cheerless drinking and seat-kicking.

There are, of course, ways to avoid this mess. You can start saving your money now so that you can afford a seat in first class sometime in the next decade. Or, you can look at the alternatives such as traveling by train or driving your own personal vehicle, although admittedly planning trips to Iceland that way can prove dicey if not downright treacherous.

You could also wait for the airlines to start making improvements to their coach sections, and if you’re inclined to do that, may I offer you in the meantime an interesting, sure-fire investment on some ocean properties near Santa Fe?

No, I have a mantra that I recite every time I’m tempted to fly. It is quite simple and goes like this: “The airlines are not your friends.” Repeat that over and over and you’ll soon find that your expectations begin to lower, and as they hit rock-bottom you’ll realize that you’re just about ready to climb on that plane.

You’ve surrendered every shred of self-respect, you’re prepared for hours of suffering and abuse — almost as if you are doing to the dentist, for instance — and you are finally ready to acknowledge that the free peanuts tossed out by an over-worked flight attendant will actually seem like a perk.