“Why the plane is not going?”
“Why the plane is not going?”
“Why the plane is not going?”
Ah, the joys of air travel. The above litany was recited for what seemed like millions of years, or at least enough time for the dinosaurs to crawl out of the sea, conquer the earth and die in a flash of asteroid light, while I sat on the tarmac in Houston. The speaker was a young girl, probably no more than two, sitting in the row in front of me with her mom, dad and little brother, who was probably no more than six months old.
I was in row 12, an exit row, and the row behind me was row 14, the thirteenth row in the airplane. I had not realized that planes had gotten rid of the unlucky row (I remember a number of news reports where the 737 went into the ground like a dart, but everyone except those in row 13 walked away from the crash), like many hotels have removed the floor. I think its funny. But I can’t pin this on Americans, as it is common in Asia to remove the 11th floor using a similar slight of hand.
I didn’t notice it on planes because I quite clearly remember a trip from Hong Kong to San Francisco where I was in seat 13A – a window seat in the top section of a 747. It was a great seat, and I would have requested it again, if they hadn’t gotten rid of it.
Last week was my first trip since the ear operation, and I guess it went as smoothly as could be expected. I took an antihistamine, chewed gum and did my best to keep my ears clear, and the only symptom I seem to have is that the ringing I have to deal with has gotten a little stronger.
But back to air travel. Being a frequent traveler, I am often surprised and easily irritated by how clueless most travelers are. Time and time again parents seem surprised when their infant, stuck in a loud tube that smells bad, screams for two solid hours. People carrying an overstuffed trunk with wheels seem amazed when they won’t fit above their seats. Those who exit the jet-way and stop suddenly, causing a slinky like oscillation in the line behind them.
So I figured today’s rant might include some air travel observations:
- Roll-aboard luggage was invented by Satan.
Back when air travel was out of reach of most people, it was a very refined way to travel. There were porters to help get your luggage from the curb to the plane and back again. The overhead bins were full of packages and gifts, since anywhere you travel to by plane was exotic.
But now the place is crammed with self-important people who carry huge load around with them, simply because they have wheels. If suddenly all the wheels stopped working for just one day, and people had to actually *carry* that big bag, they’d check it in a heartbeat. However, the lowest depths of hell are reserved for those who feel the need to roll the bag the complete distance to their *seat*. They squeeze it through the tiny aisles of most jets coming on board, and hold the line up for what seems like ages getting off.
With the exception of flight personnel, who live in their own purgatory if not exactly Hell, roll-aboard luggage should be banned.
- Escalators and moving walkways are *not* rides.
The distance from gate E19 to gate C23 at George Bush International is, no lie, at least a mile. The journey is only alleviated briefly through the use of moving walkways.
The beauty of them is that a) they move, and b) you can *walk* on them. This makes the trip a lot faster. However, there are those who will walk up to the walkway, stop, carefully gauge the timing and distance to the belt with the concentration of an Olympic platform diver, jump onto the middle of it … and then stop.
I never see how these people actually get off the walkway since I yell “Stand Right!” and walk passed them.
- People in groups will a) walk abreast and b) spread out to occupy all of the available room.
I’m not sure why this happens, and it is more of a problem when you get outside of security, when families and groups can meet back up. But when little Betty and her boyfriend Dan show up from college to meet the folks and sister Judy, having all five of them spread out across the only way between me and my car gets a bit frustrating.
Anyway, I am off to Chicago in a week or so, and I get to go through this all again. It’s funny how I dread an experience that 100 years ago would be nothing short of magic.