So today I was going to try and post something more updatey, but I just don’t think that’s going to happen. Instead, I think I’ll post a column I read in the Iowa Falls Times-Citizen this morning that I got a kick out of. It’s funny partly because it’s true, but also partly because the columnist is just plain funny. So, without further ado, Chuck Humeston’s thoughts on flying nowadays!
Flying has become about as much fun as a toothache.
Last week my wife and I flew to Denver, Colorado. It’s a drivable distance, but flying makes the trek across Nebraska almost tolerable. Driving it, you’re tempted to say, “We’re almost there,” but you’re really not even close. I’m sure the last thing General Custer told his men was, “The bad news is we’re totally surrounded, but the good news is we don’t have to ride back across Nebraska.”
So, we decided to fly. If you can figure out airline ticket pricing, then you’re one up on me. I studied a little economics (actually, as little as possible) in college, too, but this stuff defies all logic. It’s like the pricing depends on the moon phase closest to the equinox in the leap year. Lo and behold, I found a cheap price, even out of Des Moines, two weeks prior to our planned departure, and the airplane was even guaranteed to have wings and two engines! So I booked it.
I bought two coach seats. I’ve traveled first class once in my life only because the jet was nearly empty and the flight attendant asked if I would like to sit in first class as no one was there. Aside from that, I’ve never figured out why anyone would want to pay almost double to get there 100 feet sooner than I get there.
Then there’s the “red carpet” option. Once I saw the ticket agent set up the “red carpet” at the gate. He simply tossed a red floor mat on the floor at the entrance. My visions of the “red carpet,” with a brass band at the gate, someone putting a drink in my hand, and carrying my bags for me were dashed. Sure, you get on the jet before everyone else, but you still aren’t going anywhere until the pilot decides he wants to leave.
Then there’s security. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m all for tight security for air travel these days. But for a long time, it seemed every time I traveled, I got taken out of the line and searched. I mean, they could identify me, but they couldn’t identify the “underwear bomber?”
One time I got taken out of the line, the guy kept pointing at me and then at a table. Was it a sign language? Was I supposed to sit on the table? I finally said, “Look, I don’t know what you want me to do unless you tell me.” He told me to put my bag on the table. “Has anyone, without your knowledge, had control of your baggage?” Is that a trick question? It’s almost like asking, “So when did you stop beating your wife?” Any way you answer it is going to be wrong. How would I know if it was without my knowledge?
We got through security this time, got dressed again, and got on the jet. That’s become an ordeal, too. Since the airlines have decided to get into the passengers’ pockets for each bag checked, more have decided to beat the system by carrying on as many carry-ons as possible. Some people look like they are trying to stuff steamer trunks into the overhead compartments. Last week someone even dropped a carry-on onto my son-in-law’s head!
We spent a good week with our family in Colorado and our son drove us from Denver to the Denver International Airport. How far is that? Let’s just say by the time you get there, you expect to see a sign that says, “Welcome to Nebraska.” I should have driven.
Happy Thursday, all!
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Suddenly they all died. The end. 