A recent trip to Virginia provided me with plenty of time to kill while sitting a Northwest Airlines (NWA for short... which can be deceiving) plane. I composed some random thoughts to entertain myself, because it was either that or crafting paper hats out of the pages of the Skymall catalog.
5-9-07
1st flight
On television and in film, prison guards are often portrayed as characters who are as tough as week old meatloaf and inebriated with their own sense of power. What happens if a prisoner even glances at a guard in a slightly distasteful manner? He's nailed with a club and tossed in the hole.
What does any of this have to do with travel? Airline security folks are the closest thing I've experienced to Hollywood's portrayal of prison guards. At least, that's how the experience was at the airport this morning.
As is the manner in these days of heightened security, I took my shoes off at the correct time and placed them in a tub to send them through the machine. I had on clean socks, so everything was dandy. I also took off my watch, and emptied my pockets of my keys, change and cellphone. I began to approach the metal detecting doorway thingy (though, with a bit of caution, because who knows if it could be some portal into another dimension), but then a security woman gruffly asked me if I had everything out of my pockets. I pulled out a pack of gum and was immediately told it had to go through the machine. Such an issue with my ear-popping deterrent seemed a bit outrageous (although tests may very well be underway on potential dangers of flavor crystals).
Nonetheless, I paused for a split-second to find one of the plastic bowls to toss my pack of crystal mint Orbit gum into, and I immediately heard, "ON YOUR RIGHT, ON TOP OF THE MACHINE," in a tone that could have made a drill sergeant quiver. Had I taken any longer to get the gum through the machine, I think the woman was going to reach for a rubber hose to crack me with.
Thankfully, my gum and I both made the flight, and, in retrospect, I guess the concern about the gum may make a little sense... it's all Tom Cruise's fault. If he had not used explosive chewing gum in Mission Impossible, the verbal abuse I suffered probably would not have happened. I hope scientologists aren't out to get me.
2nd Flight
At this point in my life, I've seen a number of films and television shows that deal with airplanes on some level. ABC's Lost stands out most specifically in my mind at this point, which means I do one thing immediately once I take my seat on a plane... I scope out my fellow flyers to try to identify which passenger could best fit each role if we were to crash on to a mysterious island (yes, I know that the flight from Detroit to Norfolk does not trek over any oceans or seas. Thanks, geography master). Unfortunately today, as far as I can tell, neither flight has produced any African druglords-turn-priests, any paralyzed folks who were pushed out of a window by their fathers who had previously stolen a kidney, nor any cute fugitives who have been on the run. I haven't even seen a large guy who says "dude" a lot and who won the lottery using numbers he heard from a resident of a mental hospital... This is unbelievable.
On a separate note, this current flight features a male flight attendant. Naturally, this brings to mind the episode of "The Simpsons" in which Marge's fear of flying results from having discovered her father was a flight attendant. I only hope this flight attendant does not have a daughter who will someday be hopelessly scarred emotional as the result of his career pouring half-cups of Pepsi aboard an airplane.
To further complicate things, this particular flight attendant looks like he could be a cousin of Billy Dee Williams. Perhaps he enjoys flying because it reminds him of Cloud City...
Flying in a plane also brings to mind that classic comedy that we all know and love: "Blazing Saddles,"... no, wait... that's not it.... "Airplane." Once again, letting film shape my expectations has wrought disappointment. There has been no in-flight meal featuring poisoned fish, I have not seen a single nun with a guitar, and I'm pretty sure our co-pilot is not Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. I know Hollywood exaggerates from time to time, but they've missed on my current flying experience by at least 30,000 feet. I hope I don't suffer similar disappointments if I'm ever bitten by a strange spider at a science lab or if I'm ever exposed to nuclear radiation.
5-18
3rd Flight
Over a week since the last writing, I'm on a flight from Norfolk to Detroit. I had planned to either sleep or write on this flight, though both options are proving difficult. My seat is 24D, although it may as well be called, "the middle of the freaking engine." That, or maybe the D in 24D stands for what I'll be when the flight is over - deaf.
As a result of this noise level, which would have made Beethoven wince, I've been forced to increase the volume of the Jackson 5 currently playing on my iPod. Thus, it's difficult to concentrate on writing anything other than "ABC, it's easy as 1, 2, 3," over and over (and I really don't want to be sued by Tito Jackson).
Nonetheless, I'm please to be heading home, where things are normal. Most notably, time and television schedules that correspond with said time. Put simply, the eastern time zone is just a horrible TV watching environment. The fact that so many folks can live in a zone where prime time extends until 11 o'clock and Conan O'Brien's red pompadour does not see the light of television screens until after midnight is beyond me.
Perhaps this time issue would not be such a big deal if I had not been operating on the same schedule as residents of Del Boca Vista Phase 3 this past week. Rising and attempting to shine at 4:30 a.m. does not exactly fill my days with hope and optimism. As a result, I've been drifting to sleep early, as if I was watching tennis on TV.
PLEASE PAUSE FOR TURBULENCE
It never fails that turbulence hits right as someone is walking to the restroom, and a flight attendant is pouring a drink... poor folks. On this flight, I'm lucky enough to have another male flight attendant (apparently they're the new rage). Unfortunately, this one has no similarities to Lando Calrissian. This fellow is older, and has the look and demeanor of a pilot that has been demoted. Is such an action possible in the world of airlines? If so, is there someplace in the newspaper where I can read the latest transactions by each airline? I want to know if Northwest trades an established pilot with a high salary and character issues to Delta for a couple of bag-checking prospects in attempt to stay under the salary cap. Is that too much to ask?
Random Analogy....
The overhead luggage compartment is to humans as a transparent window is to birds. You're headed toward your intended destination (for humans, a plane seat; for birds, indoors), no worries... then BOOM (please excuse the channeling my inner John Madden there), you're in pain and you feel like an idiot. I have steered clear of such happenings thus far on this trip, but I've seen three people hit their heads on this flight alone. The reaction is always the same... act like nothing happened, sit down as quickly as possible, and then glance around to see if anyone noticed. Naturally, putting any padding on these compartments to protect people in the case of such accidents makes entirely too much sense.
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