The Right to Flight

Thursday, 16 April 2009 19:33

A friend of mine walked into an airport the other day, eventually arrived at the check-in counter and said; “I’m going to Boston. I’ve got three suitcases. I want one sent to Denver, one to Atlanta and one to LA. The agent said, “I’m sorry sir, but we can’t do that.” My friend replied, “Why not, you did it last week?”

The airlines are much-maligned these days, cash-strapped, looking for ways to save money, means that affect both passengers and staff. You have only to follow the excellent weekly column by Patrick Smith http://dir.salon.com/topics/ask_the_pilot/ in Salon.com to see how even the pilots we are mostly in awe of, are treated and paid.

The list of complaints against airlines or flying is ubiquitous; missing or lost luggage, delayed or cancelled flights, lack of information when delays occur, overbooking, long lineups at check-in counters, security and immigration, insupportable prices at airport restaurants and pay for everything once you’re on board, including the oldest whipping boy amongst airline grievances, lousy food.

I have always thought that the criticism of airline food was unwarranted, especially coming from people who would never think of complaining about their Big Meal Deals. When you factor in the logistics, some airlines served and still do serve good meals. Besides, the meals, no matter how bad they may seem to some people, provide the useful purpose of breaking up the monotony of the flight. Except that is, for those no-minds who time their trip to the washroom to coincide with the food carts filling the narrow aisle.

When it comes to bad food, you can’t put airlines and say, hospitals, in the same class. The latter offers up genuine swill, sometimes so runny and fetid, the nurses prefer dishing it in tubes directly into your bloodstream sparing your visual and olfactory systems and them from having to clean up your vomit.

I would venture to say that there are other places that offer up truly horrid food; prisons for example, most truck stops (the drivers eat there because there’s room to park their rigs not because Chef Jean-Luc Besoin de Travail is slicing truffles in the kitchen) and any Chinese restaurant in a town of less than 2,000 people. Every such town has one. It’s where the first item they bring to the table is a tray of napkins to soak up the grease in which each dish floats, including the steamed vegetables.

But there is one thing with the airlines which doesn’t receive enough attention and protest - the people using its services. The flying public is an ass.

Now, that’s not to say that most people on any given flight are not polite, considerate and respectful. It’s just that among this decent majority, on almost every trip, are just enough assholes to make the two or ten hours in the air, teeth-grinding, body-twisting should I say something or not you fucking idiot, time.

It seems that with too many travelers there is no grasping the concept that an airplane is public transportation. All of the annoying, often disgusting, personal habits that mark their lives at home or in their cars should be checked at the counter along with the multiple huge suitcases/trunks/chests they seem to need for a five day trip. You’re coming back soon. Leave some of the wardrobe at home. You’re not a rock star; you have no entourage and no need of two thirds of the stuff you’re lugging around.

There was a day when people dressed up a little to get on a plane. Those who didn’t want to dress up took the bus. Yes, times have changed and air travel is more every day than it used to be. You shouldn’t have to wear a suit. Jeans, as long as there is no hole in the ass, are fine. Runners, even if they’re not designer, are cool as well. But the people who show up wearing flip flops should be stopped by an agent and made to buy shoes or at least socks, preferably those big, grey, woolen ones that you can put on over rubber boots. The foot is an often ugly appendage, joined as it is to crammed, bent, sometimes hairy toes that point in different directions and which are topped off by ugly, poorly maintained, dirty, yellow toenails. No one should be trapped in a cabin looking at hideous hooves for two hours. (They’re like a traffic accident, you can’t avoid staring at them, not matter how revolting.)

I was on a flight recently where a well-dressed middle aged couple took off their shoes and had their bare feet up on the bulkhead. Being a bulkhead fan, I was appalled and then delighted when a stewardess told them that for hygienic reasons they had to put their feet down. I would have added aesthetic to the argument, but nonetheless, they were told. However, like the clowns at the theater who like to drape their feet over the seats ahead of them, as soon as the attendant was gone, back up they went. But the crew was on to the malfeetsense and another member came by to deliver the same message. It worked until take-off and then soon enough, the feet were back up the bulkhead, spreading their toes, germs and disgust.

If the attendants tell you once not to do something, unless it is trying to light a shoe bomb, I am up for giving a mulligan. You’ve been warned, now stop. If, despite the admonishment you persist in grossing out your fellow passengers, then you should be moved to the back row of the plane, especially if you have betrayed the bulkhead privilege. That way the crew can keep a close eye on you as they prepare the refreshments. However, if it happens a third time, then you should be stuffed into one of two bathrooms that economy is usually allotted. Since taking one bathroom out of play will cause large lineups, those in business class must be made to share their exclusive washroom with the folks in economy. Nothing gets remedied quicker than when the well-off are inconvenienced, when the problem comes to their neighborhood.

Another clothing “no fly rule” should be sweatpants. No one wants to see the outline of your dick nor watch you pull the material out of the crack of your ass every time you stand up. If you’re so porky that you feel the need for sweatpants, they’re not allowed - and buy two seats. Sweatpants’ wearers are usually arm rest hogs, not necessarily by choice but because their corpulent bodies can’t be contained in such a small space and they flow over into yours.

A third “no fly” apparel should be high-heeled shoes. If anything happens during the flight, you’re going to block the aisles trying to escape in those impractical implements, originally designed as instruments of torture. Additionally, you’re likely to poke a hole in the plastic slide causing it to deflate, forcing those behind you to jump from 30 feet. So check the high heels at the counter then continue your vanity and campaign to fuck up your spine when you are back on land.

Under no circumstances, ask me to trade my booked well in advance aisle seat so you can talk to your friend. I will feel no guilt in telling you to fuck off. The person you want to sit with is either someone you are going to see soon enough anyway, like a good friend or a family member. If you’re going to be with them in a few hours, you don’t need to talk to them on the plane. If it happens to be someone you haven’t seen in ages, then it is likely you don’t care enough about them to stay in touch. You’re not going to do it at my expense just because you bumped into them on a plane. Add them to MSN and chat ‘til your nails are worn. In the meantime, go watch the in-flight presentation in your assigned seat.

Speaking of seats, though they are designed to recline into the lap of fellow passengers, it is inconsiderate in the extreme to use this feature. Put the seat back a little if you like but be conscious of the fact that the person behind you already has their knees in contact with the safety regulations in the seat pocket in front of him. Of course the offenders know this because they’re in the same situation. But that doesn’t stop them from slamming the seat into full recline even before the plane has taken off. You can pick out the sprawlers as soon they walk on; sunglasses; slick hair, talking on their cell phones, five carry-on bags and the “this is my plane” look on their faces.

Now as the person behind the recliner, you have two choices, clench your fists for the duration of the flight and do nothing or, using the palms of your hands, drive the back of the lounger’s seat so hard that if he hasn’t buckled up, he will be catapulted into the next row. You follow up with apologies as you head needlessly to the washroom.

As stated earlier, the recliner and others, often arrive with numerous carry-on bags plus laptops. Some airlines have cracked down on carry-on abuse but too many others turn a blind eye. Passengers walk on with duffle bags that might be concealing Rush Limbaugh if they weren’t so quiet. (Silence is golden but duct tape is silver to quote a friend of mine) These people think nothing of blocking the aisle for several minutes while they fill up all the compartment space for three rows with their essential baggage. If you need to bring that much stuff on board, fly Federal Express. Maybe you’ll end up sharing an island with Tom Hanks or Gilligan or his twin, Bobby “could have been” Jindal.

Then there are the cell phone bores, the ones who are so important or so in love they ignore repeated announcements to shut their phones off. I saw one dumb twit trying to hoist her various carry-ons into the overhead bins while trying not to lose the cell phone stuck between her cheek and ear. She looked like she had violin player’s syndrome. This episode took place in the aisle while people lined up for blocks behind her trying to reach their seats. She, of course, was oblivious to all. Come to think of it, why wasn’t she boarding by row number in the first place? Could it have been because she was talking on her mobile through all of the boarding announcements?

To hell with people’s safety, these idiots either can’t be out of touch with their network or they have to tell someone over and over again how much they love them. For the first group, you’re not that important. If you help bring the plane down, they’ll replace you before your body stops smoldering. For the second, if you’re so much in love that you can’t go away for awhile without smooching and baby talking on the phone, stay home. You probably shouldn’t be flying without an airline minder anyway.

Now we come to my pet peeve, pets. What in the name of flying dander are pets doing on airplanes? I recently shared the passenger cabin with a dog that didn’t shut up for three hours; the passenger cabin, not underneath with other pets, but in the cabin with the humans. So besides the constant yipping and whimpering, dog dust was floating through the recycled air affecting the breathing of all those with allergies. Seeing as how in the First Family of the United States, one in four persons is affected by allergies, you can extrapolate that one quarter of the passengers on that plane were impacted by the soot of this annoying mutt. One hundred percent minus the owners were affected by the dog’s suckhole behavior.

There is no case when a dog should be flying in the passenger cabin. I’ll take that one step further; there is no case when a dog should be on an airplane period. If you own a dog or a cat, there are options. If you’re going away for a short time, leave the thing with a friend or at an animal hotel. The dog will remember you when you return; absence may even make the heart grow fonder. The cat is totally indifferent, other than viewing you as a source of easy meals.

Regardless, there is no need to bring a pet with you. If you feel the need, load up the car or motor home and take Rover or Fluffy along. Just stay away from the airport with those allergy causing, flea ridden, litter-shitting critters.

The car provides the same convenience for those who are moving permanently. If you’re within the borders of the continent, there’s no problem. Open the doors and let the animal out when you arrive at the new place. If you are moving overseas, then ship him in a box onboard a cargo ship. Remember to poke holes in the box so the pest can breathe during the few weeks on the ship.

An alternative is to trade in your existing pet and pick up another in your new locale. There are animals and reptiles in all parts of the world. Your former mascot will soon forget you and you’ll have a fresh plaything, albeit one who may speak a foreign language, which will feign loyalty as long as there is food around.

The other advantage of not having pets on planes is that it would clear up space beneath the passenger cabin for families traveling with small, screaming kids, the ones who never stop bellowing from London to New York. I know it seems harsh but you could fun it up some and the little ones could howl to their hearts’ content and my oblivion.

Failing that idea and not wanting to compare little babies to animals, can’t you shut that kid up? You’re his mother, a large part of your responsibility as a parent is to make sure the brat is seen, assuming he’s not too ugly, but not heard. If you can’t handle this task when the urchin is a few months old, what the hell are you going to do when he reaches middle school age? You have tits, use them. If you’re a guy and you’re responsible for the boisterous bastard, try the manzeer with a hidden baby bottle. If you can keep things quiet I know I wouldn’t think the lesser of you.

Now this may seem like a long list of things you can’t do or wear when flying but it isn’t. In fact, these are common sense practices that most people exercise. You just have to get over the fact that you’re not special. You’re sharing limited public space and all you have to do is use your head a little, think of someone else besides yourself for a couple of hours and then revert to the asshole you are when you’re back in your private, self-indulgent world.

There was an episode on Seinfeld where Elaine had a troublesome rash that required medical treatment. Because of previous bad comportment, she ended up being blacklisted by the entire New York medical community. I thought the punishment harsh and an overreaction to her supposed infractions. However, the concept is one that the airlines should adopt with inconsiderate passengers. It’s time to start taking names. If we can create a list of terrorists who are trying to be covert and bar them from flying, we can surely halt the obvious jackasses. A few coast to coast bus trips should get their attention. Then put them on parole, forcing them to fly with a responsible adult until such time as the parole officer and the airlines agree that the transgressor has earned another chance.

And one more thing: when in public - don’t clip your nails, finger or toe, you unsanitary pig.