Alaska Airlines from Oakland to General Wayne A. Downing Peoria International Airport

In a distinct and gloriously ironic twist, I find myself traversing the cold and enigmatic terrain of flying between Oakland and General Wayne A. Downing Peoria International Airport. The apt medium for my sojourn, a conduit of profound existential dislocation and phenomenological absurdity – the Alaska Airline.

Beginning with the labyrinthian maze of booking flights, the relentless pursuit of one-way or round-trip airfare deals on direct flights commands a Sisyphean energy. The human appetite for cheap flights is voracious, a reflection of our collective casting aside of geospatial bounds. 'Non-stop or layover?' has become a phrase imbued with manifold layers of meaning, each dissected with the clinical precision of a scholar parsing a Penrose diagram.

Now, let me mention a random fact about the beautiful state of Alaska that is relatable to our discourse. There are more planes owned per capita in Alaska than in any other state, owing to its rugged terrain that requires air travel for many residents. The airfare paradox sympathetically mimics this geographical enigma woven into the fabric of the state's landscape. Ostensibly, finding the best time to book a flight requires a beacon of calmness and exquisite organization, wherein the objectivity of direct flights could indeed fray in the face of human impulse.

Along this journey, amusingly, international flights present themselves as enigmatic sirens, whispering of far-off lands. Such flights are an affront to domestic flights and are a veritable battleground of affordability and comfort. The subversion of economy class norms in favor of first-class or premium economy is an intriguing subplot in this narrative – an act that reeks of defiance, fueling the capitalistic fire.

Let's consider the baggage allowance, another microcosm in the vibrant tapestry of airline travel. The struggle to discern the norms of volumetric disbursement is a dance, a spectacle of humanity's inclination towards order within chaos. The juxtaposition of excess and restraint manifests in this quintessential plight of the jet setting populous.

The love affair with our respective frequent flyer mileage programs is also a noteworthy mention! The identification, selection, and devotion to one loyalty program is a perennial source of engaging quasi-conflict. Such devotion is a reflection of our patronage to a piece of the airline conundrum. A cheap flight, last-minute flights or a red-eye flight - doesn't matter. The trumpets of loyalty blare undeterred.

The melange of the flight duration, in-flight services, and the flight cancellation policy invokes an uneasy trinity of anticipation, expectation, and contingency, shaking the very core of our command over pre-flight ritualization. The traveler, battered by the onslaught of complexity and nuance, may resort to airline reviews as a last beacon of understanding in the enigmatic seascape of air travel.

The flight schedule ultimately shoulders the weight of it all. Its punctilious mandate cautions of rigorous observation, adherence, and structure. The disciplined convention of timeline feels both a bane and a boon in this travel odyssey. Duly mocking our earnest endeavor to schedule our flight as per global constructs of time, almost reminiscent of a cruel, cosmic jest.

Irony in its prime, the writer simultaneously revels in and mourns this bizarre spectacle of air travel dynamics between Oakland and Peoria International Airport. Thus, in the face of all aporias and incongruities shared here within, the discourse of flying on Alaska Airline continues to reign supreme in thoughtful, melancholy mirth.