DB Earhart

I'm beginning to get very drawn into the story of the missing Malaysian jet. This happened a number of days ago when I was in Jamaica. I heard a snippet of some kind of news account, or I heard somebody saying something about disappearing from radar. I didn't think much of it, and certainly while at a resort far a family wedding, I didn't much want to think about it. I got more thorough details when I picked up some Jamaican newspapers at the airport on my way home.

In addition to being a probable tragedy, it's also shaping up into a real mystery. There are some rather interesting details. The plane disappeared from radar with hours of fuel left, and the search originally centered at the spot where it was last seen. That has turned up nothing, and now it's evident that it actually could have (and probably did) flown for hours with its transponder off, so that whatever became of it, it may not be anywhere near the original search zone. For a bit, they thought they were sure of a change of course, but that was taken back.

Hot Air, I Swear

It would be pretty neat to ride on a blimp. This is one of those fantasies about life in the past that I concede may not be as great as it seems, but I do think I'd like it. This is especially so if we're talking about the era before plane travel really got going. I gather that there was a time when planes were just too rough, and dirigibles were as smooth as could be. They didn't go too fast, but they were pretty steady in the air.

I always think about the way it seemed aboard the zeppelin in "Indiana Jones And The Last Crusade". It just seemed like a big floating lounge, with people drinking, eating and reading newspapers. Everyone was dressed very elegantly, and of course there was a lot of action between Indy, his father and the Nazis. Somehow that just manages to make it all seem even better. I definitely wish I were on board for that.

Reading And Writing In The Air

Sometimes I feel a little old-fashioned. The consumer electronics that I am most enthused about these days are my VCR and my Nintendo 64, which ought to tell you plenty. Sometimes I would like to have more of the cutting edge stuff (although I have some), but one time when I am happy to go low-tech is on the plane. When other people are getting out their ebooks and other such items, I'm going another way.

If I'm reading, it's bound to be a paper book. I'm just not crazy about those ebooks. I don't know what it is exactly. I have to be able to rub the page with my thumb and forefinger. I have to see the fiber of the paper. I find it nice that there's no security hassle to it. I like that I can bring a totally disposable newspaper on board and toss it when I'm done. I like reading the inflight magazine sometimes, and the catalogs.

Play It Straight

There's something that annoys me about air travel. Now, you're right to be entirely fed up with decades of humorous observations about all the inconveniences and idiosyncrasies of air travel, for I know I am. That doesn't mean I don't have them myself, and while I try to spare others the more commonly held ones that come to mind, there are those which I think might be relatively fresh and unique. Those I feel it reasonable to share.

Take the flight attendants. Maybe my memory isn't what it is, but I recall them being friendly but professional. It's fair enough that the job isn't as great as it once was, and so the people holding that job maybe aren't as disposed to be so friendly or professional anymore. I can hardly blame them, and yet I do when I am at their mercy. They just don't behave the way they used to, and while most people might even like the new way, I don't really.

Hurry

A few days back when I was flying back to Los Angeles, I had an incident. My dear uncle Allen had sent a gift for Christmas, and you'll believe me when I say that it was not at all out of character that this year my gift from Allen was a pocket knife. I'm looking at it as I write this, and it's nice. I will undoubtedly get considerable use from it in the new year, but its first contribution towards the easing of my life was not the best.

It's really my fault. I had remembered, as I do fairly well now, that there is a little knife on my keychain Leatherman which security personnel are typically sensitive to. I remember now to remove that from the other keys and to leave it at home or put it in checked luggage as I did in this case. I felt therefore quite secure with the minutes waning as I walked away from the ticket counter with my garment bag towards the gate. You may ask why I would check one bag and not two, which is a good question. On I went to security.

Drink Up

Of the many things I don't get, one of the more troublesome lies in the galley of a commercial jet (if in fact the kitchen area of a plane is called that). On every flight, you get a drink. You can order an alcoholic drink, as I seldom do, or you can get something else. I usually go with something else, being cheap and also concerned about what I might do with my inhibitions loosened in midair. Probably nothing more severe than being too loud, but that could be bad.

When you buy an alcoholic drink, they give you the whole can of beer. When you get something else, chances are excellent that they'll pass off less on you. I really don't get that. I assume there must be a reason to give me a small cup of soda that is in fact mostly ice, but I can't imagine what it is. Surely even a  jet of the size they use on short flights can contain enough twelve ounce soft drinks to allot each passenger one.

Uptight Crew

I know very well that being a flight attendant is not what it once was, if it ever was what it once was. The conditions are worse and the benefits are less. It must be an especially trying job when it comes to the holidays, with frantic schedules, bad weather and passengers behaving about as badly as they ever do. I say all this to confirm that I am sympathetic to their plight, and that is a prerequisite to declaring that I'm not happy with them.

I flew home for the holidays this year, and I never do enjoy flying. This most recent flight was in fact not that bad. The Burbank airport makes things a lot easier, and my usual airline is mostly tolerable. I can't complain too much, except that on this occasion I must say that I'm not entirely pleased with the conduct of the aforementioned flight attendants on this flight. Now, I know they were tired and burned out, because they said so several times during an hour-long flight, but nonetheless...

Frequent Flyer

There I was, sitting in my seat on the plane back home for Thanksgiving. I had no hope of having the row to myself, but I always am optimistic that the middle seat might remain empty. This is lessened somewhat during the holidays, but it's still there. I never do have much hope that the person I'll be sitting by will be somebody I really want to know. It might be, but I never imagine it to be possible that it might be a girl I'd like to be with.

On this occasion, it was not to be an attractive girl, but it was a passably interesting man of advanced years. I didn't talk to him until the brief flight was nearly over. I had observed a peculiar magazine he was reading. At first, I thought it could be Soldier Of Fortune or some military magazine. It seemed to pertain to the Air Force or maybe Navy flying. My curiosity built, though I had a fine book to read myself. At long last, I had to inquire.