My perspective is simple, if perhaps seemingly contradictory: Life is too damned short to rush.
I have a finite number of years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds and tenths of a second in which I am going to live. I intend to enjoy every moment of my life that I can. I enjoy going places I have never been, and seeing places I've never seen. I enjoy vacations, a lot. I like to travel, to wander, to go places. I enjoy mountain vistas, scenery, comfort, and good food. I enjoy watching people, in all their glory, intelligence, laughter, pointless rage and, especially, stupidity. I enjoy conversing with people I have never seen before and will never see again. I enjoy all those things.
I HATE being stressed out. I HATE waiting in long lines. I HATE people who fail to treat me as a human being. I'm a big man, and I hate Hate HATE HATE HATE HATE!!!!!!! being cramped into tiny little seats narrower than my posterior. I HATE being served plastic food on plastic plastic plates by plastic people with plastic smiles. I HATE waiting around in boring, insipid plastic buildings with boring, insipid plastic decor, on boring, insipid (and painful) plastic seats. I HATE IT! ALL OF IT!
Now, I am not saying every OBS and Crew on Amtrak's trains are nice. They aren't. Some are very nice, some are jerks. I like the variety. And regardless of which, they are very personal. They are surly and jerkish towards me as one human to another.
In any case, I have two choices. I can sit through a day of my life going from my house to, say, Chicago, waiting in either old and ornate stations, or old and dilapidated (but almost always with some sort of character) stations, to sit on a relaxed, social, and enjoyable conveyance complete with decent food, beautiful vistas, comfortable accommodations, and very personal service.
Or I can spend roughly half that time going to the airport, waiting on lines, having my flight be delayed, as reported by bored, indifferent plastic robots (I can't believe they are real people- they sure don't act like it), sitting on uncomfortable seats in a Post-Dreary Standard Airport Era decorated building. Then I will be shoe horned into a tiny seat I don't fit in, get peanuts thrown at me, horrible drinks spilled on me, get spat on by the gum chewing idiot next to me who pretends not to notice.
Then I get to have my ears popped several times, get to sit in this seat for a good 2-3 hours next to said idiot, before finally getting massive head pains as the plane lands. Then I get stampeded off the plane to a "baggage carousel" where the same robots will tell me they are sorry (like hell) that they misplaced my baggage. Before it finally turns up, two hours later. And now with this experience over, I can be charged enough money for a taxi ride into the city that the driver can make a mortgage payment.
So I have the choice of enjoying myself for 20+ hours, in a no stress environment. Or be stressed out almost to the breaking point for about 10 hours, all told. Life's short. Which do you pick?