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What Helps You Get Through a Commercial Airline Flight?
I’m on a cross country flight. It’s tight quarters with some pretty big guys. Some are truly professional flyers. Others jump on Southwest airlines and either complain about everything or gum up the works in the Lord of the Flies self-seating challenge. All of us, 150 plus, are on a five-and-a-half hour flight to Las Vegas. And, no, I don’t like it.
I’ve taken this flight out about 25 times. Thank God, I’ve taken about 25 flights home. I’ve never liked it. That’s not to say I haven’t liked it more on some flights and less on others. It’s just that flying 500 mph inside a hollow metal tube, 35,000 feet above sea level (like it matters if it’s above the water), isn’t my preferred mode of travel. Transporter, pneumatic tube, maybe.
Sometimes the weather is bad, but the flight is smooth. Sometimes, the weather is poor at takeoff, but within five minutes, you look out the window and you’ve been inserted into a United Airlines commercial from the 90s: blue skies, setting sun, and an attractive flight attendant taking care of your every need.
I would rather be inserted into a Star Trek Zero G chamber or some other contraption–something where you don’t sense every last bump and yip that you inevitably feel when a wonderfully- engineered, 50-ton piece of metal and electronics (and don’t forget the flammable fuel in both wings) launches itself into the lower troposphere.
In other words, I need to medicate before I travel. Most of the time, the medicine has a first name: Jack, Jim, Tito. It helps, but I’m never intoxicated enough to forget I’m 35 thousand feet above the earth, my life in the hands of a pilot I’ve never met.
And as much as I enjoy a nice Jack & Diet Coke, and no matter how much I like to pray, it’s a battle each time I walk down the poorly carpeted jet-way and through the door, greet the preternaturally optimistic flight attendant, and sneak a peek into the cockpit, hoping to see a clear-eyed soul with a cross on his collar, greeting me with, “Don’t worry, Buddy, I love my wife and four children like nobody’s business, and I’m scheduled to go on vacation tomorrow.”
I think I’ve flown about a million miles. I like airports. Specifically, I like airport bars. I think it’s pretty cool to be carded at age 50. I like the beefy, retired New York city cop manning the Las Vegas C Terminal sports bar asking me if I want a five dollar shot to go with the eight dollar Bud Light (I save that for my third beer). I like watching ESPN without the sound and closed captions. I wonder what the heck Skip Bayliss just said to Stephen A. Smith. I like meeting the nice couple who flew out to watch the grand kids because their daughter and son-in-law went on a cruise.
I like the crab cake omelet in Obrycki’s in the BWI B terminal. I like empty back rows on a smooth Southwest flight from Las Vegas, as the sun sets. For some reason, I like country music better as I fly over fly-over country.
So, Ricochet folks, is there anything you like about airports, airlines, and long distance travel?
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I hate flying, so I don’t. I’m not afraid of being in the sky enclosed in a metal tube, I’m leery of the people in charge of it all. As a young woman I took flying lessons, wanted my own plane. As an old woman I don’t trust any part of the administration or the powers that be who are in control.
I don’t like flying. The cramped metal tube is bad enough. But flying is just “controlled falling.” And I’m not in control. Does this mean I’m a control freak? I like to think of it as “prefers being fully engaged in the process.”
So yeah, . . . visiting the in-laws in Texas? Let’s drive! (Besides, the Flint Hills are better from ground-level.)
Sounds like someon
Springing for a first class ticket might be cheaper.
I love flying, btw, as long as I’m not on a Bombardier jet. Those things freeze your feet off. Really poorly-designed air conditioning, or something. Gimme an Embraer or Fokker over a Bombardier, any day.
I hate everything about travel except being in some other cool place.
I hate packing, I hate driving to the airport, I hate checking in, I hate waiting, I hate the airport, I hate all the people in the airport, I hate all the people on the plane, I hate the coughing that will make me sick in 2 days, I hate the stale air, I hate the food that I refuse, I hate the confusion I get when I refuse the food, I hate the smell of the other guy’s food, I hate that he’s enjoying his food so much especially since this is a time when no normal person would typically eat food, I hate the bathroom, I hate the time I’m wasting, I hate the next airport, I hate the cab, I hate sleeping on disgusting hotel beds, I hate walking on disgusting hotel carpets…
Luckily, this is all very expensive and unnecessary.
I don’t mind flying first class.
I don’t mind sitting in coach. I have a problem with the people in coach. (this one sickly mofo spent an entire 5 hour flight coughing his ‘bola on me)
If I were to institute 1 reform to flying, I would charge for overhead and offer free hold baggage.
-overhead space is scarce, there is not enough of it to accommodate carry on luggage for everyone.
– this causes people to bring on full size luggage which cannot go in the proper direction reducing overhead space for everyone by 50% on top of the already under provisioned resource
– nobody enforces existing baggage size regulations.
– some people actually check baggage, and when people bring obvious full size luggage into the cabin to avoid the fee and nobody makes them pay you create more conflict.
by switching the fee to the overhead less stuff will have to get in and out of the cabin. People will have more space, and be able to embark and disembark more quickly. Everybody will have a superior travel experience.
Hate flying. I avoid it like the plague, with much success. I don’t think I’ve been on a plane in 6 years.
I don’t mind flying at all.. its the preflight security that drives me nuts.
The officious, incompetent boobs who
I now avoid flying if at all possible. If it’s business I prefer NetMeeting. If need to be there.. family visits etc.. I drive.
Feel the same way. I’m rational; I know the statistics. Safer to fly, blah, blah, blah…that’s bunk.
I, too, would rather be in control. I’m not a control freak; I just realize the pilot might have just been dumped by his wife and likes to have a couple vodkas with his omelet.
Over the years, I’ve driven to Tampa, Jacksonville, Orlando, Montreal, Nashville, Charleston, Boston, and Chicago (many times) from Baltimore instead of flying.
Unfortunately business sends me to Las Vegas once or twice a year and that’s a long, long way to drive.
that “safer to fly” statistic is nonsense. It’s kind of like saying “more accidents happen in your own shower.” Ok, yes, maybe that’s true. But it’s all or nothing in one but not the other. 99.999% of plane crashes result in death. Car crashes may happen more often, but the accidents themselves are safer.
Bark out orders at travelers confused the latest useless TSA security procedure in a manner worthy of SS trainees.
On a flight from D.C., in 2003 I hadn’t heard the orders to have all computers out of their cases. One of the agents grabbed my computer case off the belt and slammed it down on a counter, not talking to me, not even determining I was hearing impaired. The hard drive was broken which I didn’t determine until I got home. $60 to retrieve some of the data of my genealogy files. How do other hearing impaired people handle the TSA?
The only thing good about flying is it gets your there faster. I can’t think of one other reason to fly.
For me, reading. I love reading on an airplane and I get so much read when I fly coast to coast. Otherwise I hate the experience. But it gets you there fast.
I like to wear a black suit, white shirt and black tie when picking up visiting friends and relatives at the airport. I hold up a sign, of course, at the end of the endless escalator, with “Drs.” boldly written in black marker in front of their names.
I love a good typo!
Oh darn! Then you go and edit!
Try dressing like D.B. Cooper. Everyone will probably leave you alone.
Once again, Ricochet proves to be “my people.” I’m with the many here who do not fear flying but have grown to hate the experience of flying. I won’t even consider flying if I can drive it in under 8 hours. Sometimes even up to 12 hours.
I used to hate flying because of the hassle and expense but ever since my daughter started working for Delta and my wife and I can fly for free (albeit on standby) I love flying!
Stick me in a middle seat, make me check my carry-on, don’t feed me, whatever. I don’t care anymore because it’s stinkin’ FREE, baby!
Yikes- this is tough duty for a lot of you. I travel a ton for work (30 nights on the road so far this year). I don’t mind flying. Here are my critical survival tools:
1. Bose noise canceling headphones (the in ear kind). Expensive yes, but they are extremely effective at shutting out the world, saving your ears, and letting you focus on a podcast or music.
2. Always choose (roughly) the same seat. I’m a window guy. The routine makes it feel more like “mine.” It really helps.
3. Kindle/iPad- always always always have something to read.
4. If you have an iPad/tablet- a favorite movie or two loaded for easy distraction. I don’t rent movies frequently, but I like having something to click on.
5. Pay the $85 for TSA Pre. Leave your shoes on, don’t pull your gear apart, skip the long lines.
6. Pack light or check your bag. Don’t pick the middle ground.
7. Passbook App for your boarding passes. Stop printing, putting them in the wrong pocket, etc. Makes life a lot easier.
The thing is, I really enjoy driving. I was surprised on a trip to the Black Hills last fall that I even enjoyed driving across the flatness of South Dakota.
Can’t stand driving in a city, but the open countryside is wonderful. If I’ve got a good program in the CD player, so much the better. I go for drives just to listen to my stories. Yep, it’s a gas-wasting experience. I don’t care. Drill, baby, drill.
No one really likes flying commercial, but the smug air of superiority that you have when you achieve Delta diamond status is almost worth the hassle you go through as you achieve that. At a million miles they make an announcement on the plane that there is a new member of that club and a gift card is given to you. Of course it is for a free travel item like a suitcase or something but it is the thought that counts.
This is also sound advice
EXACTLY what I was going to write.
Also, if you can ever swing it, flying business class makes a big difference. Even though you still have the same TSA hassles, otherwise it’s a very different — and much improved — experience.
And that time I got to take the corporate jet spoiled me forever. I don’t care about being rich enough to afford a mansion or a Ferrari or a personal assistant. But I fantasize all the time about being rich enough to buy a jet share.
I love at least one thing about flying.
I am a very lucky man.
8 hours is about my breakeven point. It used to be much lower. Airport hassles have gotten longer (and the time has gotten more unpredictable) — not just TSA screening, but parking lots are farther away, flights are delayed, my flight always seems to be assigned gates (at both departure and arrival) that are at the far ends of the terminals, baggage claim is never streamlined (and I have to check bags more often now because airlines are stricter about carryon size), rental car pickup seems to take longer, etc., etc. And then there’s the fact that airports and airplanes are like life-size petri dishes.
I really like flying but not always the other passengers. I refuse to pay for luggage so don’t take much and I refuse to pay for a seat choice. I check in online at the earliest possible moment and usually get a seat I like – close to the front on the aisle. If you can’t see everyone else you can pretend you are almost alone.
I have a Nexus card so security isn’t a problem.
Whiskey. Neat.
I hate the security hassle with a passion. In the immediate wake of the whole “liquids” scare, some officious idiot pulled my makeup bag out and proceeded to pluck every last tiny tube from it, lining them up for display on a table as he droned on about how my concealer or mascara could possibly pose a threat to my fellow passengers. I could see they were about to close the jetway door so I reached down, swept the entire collection into the garbage and snapped “There. Are we safe now?”
As for the actual flight, I’m lucky — planes put me to sleep. And when I say “to sleep” – I mean “in a mild coma.”
I flew to a play festival in France once and the poor actor sitting next to me was a white-knuckle flier. I was out before we left the runway, woke up when I smelled coffee, ate dinner, passed out, woke up when I smelled coffee, and sat up for breakfast. My haggard seatmate whined, “My God, you only woke up to eat!”
“Yeah. [yawn] Why? Did I miss anything?”
There are drawbacks, though. Once I face-planted on my tray table, while studying lines in a script, the cover of which was dyed bright blue. There was a bit of . . . transfer, en route, and I arrived at my destination looking like Mel Gibson in “Braveheart.”
Could have used some of that discarded concealer, then.
I’m always reluctant to drink before or during a flight, because alcohol dehydrates and the cabin air is already so dry. But maybe I should reconsider….