Miles Flown: 88,735
Nights in Hotel: 86
Not too shabby given that this was all achieved in about 8 months of active travel. I'm now on the ground in Illinois for a couple of weeks before I hit the road again. In the past few weeks, I've barely been able to identify the time zone in which I am currently existing. It reached a point that one morning when I was in California, I left my hotel room and stood outside my door for about 3 minutes trying to figure out how I got there and which wasy I needed to go to get to the elevator. Disoriented. Unfortunately, I can't say that this was the first time that it happened. Needless to say, I found my way.
One of the observations that I found most ironic in the past month was when I was sitting in the restaurant at John Wayne Airport in Orange County. I looked down at my utensils to observe the following; metal fork, metal spoon, and plastic knife. Plastic knife. Because a metal butter knife would be much too dangerous. Never mind the fact that when I'm upgraded on my flights, I receive a metal knife to use when consuming my gourmet airline food. That's right, a metal knife, while on the plane that is in flight, about 5 feet from where the pilots sit. The TSA and FAA are clearly on the ball with this one.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Flight Delay
3 hours. That is the current flight delay that I find myself experiencing. The reaction of other passengers is typically entertaining, so instead of going to the Admiral's Club, I'm watching and listening. The reason for the delay is mechanical difficulties to the extent that they need to find a new plane. Given this reason, I'm okay with waiting...I'd much rather have a air-worthy plane than not. However, my fellow passengers disagree. So far, I've heard the following comments:
"The airlines need to learn how to run their business - clearly a broken plane is a sign that they don't know what they're doing. They should be be inspecting planes more closely." (Ummm...the fact that they found the problems with the plane indicates to me that they are doing their job)
"I'm hosed."
"I need to go to San Francisco. NOW. This is unacceptable - just put me on the plane that is at the gate so I can go." (The plane at the gate is the one that is seriously broken)
"Why does it have to be the plane to San Francisco? Can't you take the plane that was supposed to go to Dallas at the same time and make it go to San Francisco instead?"
"This ONLY happens on American Airlines. The other airlines never have this problem." (Right. Other airlines are perfect; case in point - sleeping/internet-surfing pilots at NWA)
And it's only been 35 minutes since the delay was announced...it's bound to get better from here. In response to these comments, I offer the following: why don't we go ahead and get on the plane that has been deemed to be unsafe to fly so that we can have it spontaneously combust, lose navigation, or have an engine fail at 35,000 feet just so we can see if the emergency exit slides really double as parachutes. Good idea. You all might be geniuses.
"The airlines need to learn how to run their business - clearly a broken plane is a sign that they don't know what they're doing. They should be be inspecting planes more closely." (Ummm...the fact that they found the problems with the plane indicates to me that they are doing their job)
"I'm hosed."
"I need to go to San Francisco. NOW. This is unacceptable - just put me on the plane that is at the gate so I can go." (The plane at the gate is the one that is seriously broken)
"Why does it have to be the plane to San Francisco? Can't you take the plane that was supposed to go to Dallas at the same time and make it go to San Francisco instead?"
"This ONLY happens on American Airlines. The other airlines never have this problem." (Right. Other airlines are perfect; case in point - sleeping/internet-surfing pilots at NWA)
And it's only been 35 minutes since the delay was announced...it's bound to get better from here. In response to these comments, I offer the following: why don't we go ahead and get on the plane that has been deemed to be unsafe to fly so that we can have it spontaneously combust, lose navigation, or have an engine fail at 35,000 feet just so we can see if the emergency exit slides really double as parachutes. Good idea. You all might be geniuses.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
On Travel
Los Angeles. Miami. Boston. Atlanta. Dallas. Chicago. Seattle. San Francisco. Phoenix. Portland. San Juan. San Diego. Houston. Tampa. This is just a selection of cities to which I have traveled over the past year. I'm often asked what it is like to travel. Soooo....here it goes - this is what I think. Travel sounds glamorous: A new city every week (or even every day on some trips), eating out every night, meeting new people every day, seeing new sites, experiencing new cultures.
In actuality, it has its moments. Some are pretty great like uninterrupted sleep when you have an infant who is sleeping in his crib at home in 3-hour intervals. Some are not so great like trying to identify strategies to avoid contracting debilitating illnesses when you have to ride in taxi cabs on a regular basis or trying to locate a hotel with availability when the last flight out of Mobile has been cancelled.
You develop a degree of patience you did not think possible while simultaneously becoming intolerant of those who are unable to heed the TSA's repeated reminders on liquids. (No, you cannot take the 1-liter bottle of water through security even if you just bought it)
One starts to thrive on frequent traveler perk programs as status becomes a benefit and a way to justify 75+ nights in a hotel in a given year. Yet there is sort of a sense of shame that goes with each sequential leap to platinum status in a program.
You miss things, people, and some occasions. You miss putting your son to bed, talking to your husband in person, taking your dogs for a walk, going to the local movie theater. But you get to see things that some people are never able to set eyes upon. Sunrise over the Atlantic. Little Havana. Navy Seals training at dawn on Coronado Island. Sunset over the Pacific. The Willard Hotel at Christmas.
In short, it is a study of contrasts. Some good, some not. But it's a lifestyle. And it's mine, for now.
In actuality, it has its moments. Some are pretty great like uninterrupted sleep when you have an infant who is sleeping in his crib at home in 3-hour intervals. Some are not so great like trying to identify strategies to avoid contracting debilitating illnesses when you have to ride in taxi cabs on a regular basis or trying to locate a hotel with availability when the last flight out of Mobile has been cancelled.
You develop a degree of patience you did not think possible while simultaneously becoming intolerant of those who are unable to heed the TSA's repeated reminders on liquids. (No, you cannot take the 1-liter bottle of water through security even if you just bought it)
One starts to thrive on frequent traveler perk programs as status becomes a benefit and a way to justify 75+ nights in a hotel in a given year. Yet there is sort of a sense of shame that goes with each sequential leap to platinum status in a program.
You miss things, people, and some occasions. You miss putting your son to bed, talking to your husband in person, taking your dogs for a walk, going to the local movie theater. But you get to see things that some people are never able to set eyes upon. Sunrise over the Atlantic. Little Havana. Navy Seals training at dawn on Coronado Island. Sunset over the Pacific. The Willard Hotel at Christmas.
In short, it is a study of contrasts. Some good, some not. But it's a lifestyle. And it's mine, for now.
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