Friday, September 25, 2009

15 - Airline Industry - Part 2 (FAA Regulations)


Every month I travel approximately 10K miles via airplane. Not to toot my own horn, but I would consider myself an experienced traveller. Toot. Oops. I meant to not do that.
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What I have come to realize from my vast experience, is that FAA Regulations have been written by some whiny little turd-ball tattle-tail who probably got beaten up as a kid, or by someone who has a very small penis.

Blog: That's kind of inappropriate and sexist. What if it was a woman?

Before you start crying about my rudeness, let me explain. My frustration is all about PEDs, or Portable Electronic Devices. Can I ask you a question? Good, because I'm going to. How many plane wrecks have you heard about that were caused by Portable Electronic Devices? None. That's how many.

Ok. I'll give you the two-way radios, and talking on the cell phone. That MIGHT interfere with communication equipment. But give me a break. Ebooks, ipods, laptops, noise cancelling headphones, Gameboys, calculators.
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"Anything with an on and off switch."
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It's bull-crap and you know it. And THEY know it. It's a power trip, plain and simple. They love coming by and spying my Kindle turned on. They get all excited like it's Christmas morning. AHA!!! Caught you, you little cheater! They probably keep a tally in the back and whoever gets the most points at the end of the day wins the pile of treasure they found in the seatback pockets.

Blog: I don't think they really...

And speaking of seatback pockets, I'm not allowed to keep ANYTHING in them! What the hell are they for?? And where am I supposed to keep my water bottle, Kindle, M&Ms, sweatshirt, shoes, aerosol cans, nail clippers...?
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My guess is that all this precaution is to keep us safe in the event of a crash. Come on! We're going to be squashed! Who cares if my laptop was on, or my tray table was down, or my seatback was not in the "upright position"?

Blog: It's for YOUR safety and the safety of those around you.

Safety!? You drive to work in your car full of unsecured projectiles strewn about, eating a bacon double-cheese buffet, and talking on your cell phone (using your ear thingy, of course) while texting, and you're going to lecture me about safety?
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That's what I thought. So. I leave my cell phone turned on for the entire flight, and I turn my Kindle on as soon as the flight attendants are done with their spying. It's my own small rebellion. When I die in a fiery plane crash, you'll know why.
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It was the damned Kindle. (Or the cell phone. Maybe my watch? It's electronic...)

Somebody should fix that.

14 - Airline Industry - Part 1


The day started fine. After work I went home and packed my bags in anticipation of seeing my kids for the weekend. I was scheduled on the red-eye out of Seattle, so I arrived at the airport with plenty of time - two hours early as usual.

On this day, two hours was too early. It gave my attitude extra time to deteriorate...

One.
The security check-point I typically use was closed. I walked the quarter mile to the other checkpoint to find a lone TSA Agent servicing the whole State of Washington. Like a good little sheep, I got in line with nary a grumble and waited my turn. Secured, I walked the quarter mile back to where I should have been thirty minutes ago.

Two.
As I waited by the departure gate, I happened to notice the departure time was 11:55p, not the scheduled 11:17p. As any airline professional will tell you, there are many very good and valid reasons for delay. I will list them for you:
  1. Because. (completely out of our control)

  2. Act of God ie: There’s Weather. (completely out of our control)

  3. The flight crew didn’t get their 20 minutes of beauty rest and due to FAA regulations and reason #1 it is completely out of our control.

  4. We don’t have a plane. (completely out of our control)

  5. Mechanical difficulty. (completely out of our control)

  6. The inbound flight is delayed. (see #1-5, and it’s completely out of our control)

Don’t bother calling the 800 number. I’ve tried. It’s futile, because how can they be responsible for crap that is completely out of their control?

Blog: You're out of control.

Three.
Idiot travelers. Your rolly bag goes WHEELS FIRST into the bin. Nice and easy. NOT SIDEWAYS. Keep your purse with you. And your cardigan. And your hat. And your bottled water. And all your moronic extra traveling crap. It’s not rocket science. Rolly bag in the bin, other crap under the seat in front of you or on your lap you selfish, inconsiderate jerk.

I had to go back seven rows to find a spot to stow my bag. Yes, I was pissed when we landed and I had to swim downstream against traffic to retrieve it.

Four.
I had been traveling so much that I’d finally racked up enough frequent flier miles to qualify for complimentary Economy Plus seating and was excited about enjoying it for the first time. There is so much more leg room, it felt downright spacious. I called out to my feet, “Can you hear me down there??” Echo. Echo. Echo.

No. They couldn’t. That’s how roomy it is.

Blog: Sometimes I think you’re retarded.

ANyway. The plane was nearly full, and there was a rare empty seat between me and my row-mate. Fortunately for us, and in the nick of time, two people stuffed into one body joined us in our row. I’m not sure words can describe how very upset I was by this point.

Who’s the moron who arranged this seating assignment? It doesn’t matter. Because of circumstances “beyond their control” I ended up getting to use HALF of my Economy Plus seat. The two people in the middle seat were disguised as a Rabbi. They smelled extremely NON-kosher, spread out over their seat (and a large portion of mine) and proceeded to fall asleep. I was in the aisle seat, so I spent the night cuddling their arm on one side and being beaten to a pulp by the beverage cart on the other.

Where’s the justice when all the skinny bitches are in first class and the fat Rabbis are sitting on my lap in coach?

Somebody should fix that.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

13 - Where's the Love?

I don’t know the history of Valentine’s Day, or anything about St. Valentine. Nor do I care right now. What I do know, is that Saint or no Saint, Person Valentine would roll over in his/her grave if they had an inkling as to what their day had become.

Before you get all up in my face about how I have no sense of romance or bah-humbug, or whatever, let me tell you something. Shut up. I’m a very romantic and passionate person, and I love the idea of Valentine’s Day. At least I love the idea of what it used to be before communism reared it’s ugly head in America.


Blog: You can't tell, but I'm rolling my eyes.

It all started a few days ago when I was asked to get Valentine’s Day cards for my kids to take to class. I said, “No problem!” Of course, that was before I took two seconds to think about it.


My four-year-old needed 16 cards for her class. My six-year-old needed 27 for his. Fortunately my nine-year-old’s teacher isn’t a retard and she opted to stop the madness this year by saying NO to the fifty million cards.

When I was a kid in grade school, we spent the week before Valentine’s Day making special cards for each person in our class and sneaking them into their little decorated boxes or folders at their desk. It was fun and exciting. If you got a bunch of cards, you knew you were a pretty good friend - and/or sexy. If you didn’t, you knew you sucked and would need to crank it up a notch for next year.




But not today. No. Today our kids BUY cards - Pokemon, Tinkerbell or Kung-fu Panda cards - 32 to a box. They come with stickers or tattoos. Or pencils. Or lollipops. Or a Ferrari. Just kidding. If they came with a Ferrari, I wouldn’t be writing this right now. I’d be driving my Ferrari.

Blog: You were saying?

Oh, yeah. These stupid pre-made cards. You (theoretically with your child’s help) tear apart the cards, fold them, insert the “goodie”, seal the card shut with a sticker, and then have the child write their name in the FROM spot. BUT BEWARE!!! DO NOT write anything in the TO spot…


And this is where I start getting upset. Each child in the class has a bag or some type of container for loot. In the interest of fairness (I’m already barfing), each child gets one card from every student in the class. But it’s not personalized. Your child is required to give a card to everyone. Even if they’re an asshole. They still get a bag full of free stuff. No meaning. No love. Even if they don’t deserve it.

As I was writing this post and venting to a friend of mine, she said her four-year-old son was required to bring 80 (EIGHTY!!) cards so everyone in the whole program would get one from everyone else, whether they knew that person or not. Did her son sign eighty cards? Hell no! His Dad ended up doing it for him. So basically, eighty parents are sending out cards to the children of 80 other parents who they probably haven’t even met. Hey Teacher, Karl Marx called. He wants his insanity back.

Blog: That’s a rude and unfair comparison.

Whatever. There is absolutely no meaning to this ridiculous Valentine’s charade. Everybody gets one? Let’s keep if fair? It’s bullcrap and you know it.

No wonder our children are growing up with the Welfare Mentality. You get stuff for free! Not only that, it’s Valentine’s Day, so you DESERVE it! Go ahead and be a jerk all year. You’ll still get a bag full of tattoos and lollipops next year!

It pisses me off. Love and friendship is special. It takes work and commitment and responsibility. This celebration is a farce. The meaning is gone.

I almost required my kids to hand-make each card from scratch. I figured it would add value to the experience. Then I realized, all the kids who receive the hand-made cards are going to be upset because they didn’t get one more sticker they could throw away later.

Either bring the love back to Valentine’s Day, or quit doing it all together.

Somebody should fix that.