More Airport Adventures, or "Why I'd Rather Walk" June 17, 2012

Airport days often start before dawn. I even had to wake the poor guy up at the hotel counter to check out (well, he IS paid by the hour after all).

Double check the room, the bathroom, the drawers. All good.

Into the rental car, GPS lady talking me through my way to the airport. Good thing; it's 3 a.m. California time, so I am not firing on all pistons yet.

Drop off rental car, leave paperwork with the same man at the desk as when I arrived (has he been cloned?). Or maybe they just all look the same at this time of day.

Full flight. Printed my boarding passes for the day, and off to security. I have noticed a change in how everyone packs now that it costs to check baggage. All personal items now come through security instead of being checked, and the time involved has nearly doubled. I have plenty of time, but I tap my toes impatiently. Sorry, my shoes are off, so I am tapping my socks.

One lady has not only squoze everything she needs into a bag that will only fit "underneath the seat in front of you" in her dreams, but she has packed the overflow into her pockets. She ought to have sized up her pants a few pounds ago (I've had pants like that), so getting all these miscellaneous items out was taking quite a long time and was very painful to watch. Those of us who remember gym know the drill. Grab the waistband and jump up and down until the pants shimmy up those last few millimeters? Yep. This was that lady.

My seat was at the back of the plane. I thought I made my reservations early enough to pick the row and seat, but all the front seats were taken. At least I was on the aisle so I had a bird's eye view of the rows in front of me. It is a nice effort to board everyone by sections, hoping that entry and seating will flow nicely. But with everyone trying to fit the kitchen sink into the overhead bins, the poor person pushing on the bag has to stand in the aisle to get enough purchase on the bag hoping it will move. And they boarded front to back, so no one can get past the first row until the bags have been wedged.

Miss Pockets was struggling to get her bag overhead; no such luck. It would have taken two offensive line-men to get it in with oil and a shoe horn. She pulled it down and tried to empty all the little pockets on the sides and stuff the contents into her pants' pockets. Still no luck; bag had to be checked. But for anyone who doubts the existence of evolution or even at least adaptation: It is alive and well in the airline passenger ecosystem. The next time this lady comes back she will be a leaner and meaner pack animal - or I guess "packing animal" - and she will be ready to get her bag sized just right. At least until the rules change again.

One of the bad things about being in the back is that when you get to your seat, all the overhead bins are filled. Some people have put their bags in sideways, taking up two "parking spaces", so their stuff needs to be rearranged. Then the coats, extra purses, little waist packs, and airport shopping bags come down as well. The folks around you glare, because you are violating what they now perceive to be their space, and they don't like to see their stuff dropping down as things are rearranged.

Deplaning is the same thing. You can jump up and grab your bag, but you have to wait for the rows in front of you to peel out, disassembling the bin contents as they go. One aisle; one exit - scary to think how slowly an evacuation might go. I wonder if during an emergency everyone would really just quickly exit and leave their things? Somehow I doubt it.

Transiting Atlanta Airport was fun because although it is another large airport, it seems to be lacking in the maze of terminals that requires one to go out and back in again. That meant I did not have to go through security again, which suited me just fine. And yes, today this is my idea of "fun".

Next flight was bound for San Francisco. I could start to recognize my tribe now as I progress West. No one personally, just people with more daring colors, styles, and accessories. I'll stop with that and leave the rest to imagination.

Same thing on this flight - full to the max. What I noticed most about this Delta flight is the appearance of marketing. I could not believe after what I paid for my ticket that I am still subjected to Madison Avenue. It's just like the offensive pre-preview Pepsi ads at the movie theater after you pay double digits for a ticket. Is this anyway to run an airline?

- Seat pocket - magazines laden with ads of places to plan your next travel and what to buy for the occasion. Other magazines with on-line shopping and mail order items, none of which anyone really needs. I also noticed that my seat pocket and all the ones I checked around me had magazines with puzzles filled in already. No one changes them any more? A new way to save money!

- "Free" 15 minutes of internet in the sky - except it is only useful for shopping from the magazine or online shopping. Bait and switch!

- Lavatory readiness - one of the 3 lavatories was out of commission. "Sorry" was the explanation. I think it is part of a greater plan to make us low-lifes in economy feel even lower and consider more seriously the value of an upgrade. No chance of getting past the curtain monitor to use the lavatory in first class and bring our kooties to the upper echelon. So I guess there is some saving in blue sanitation flush, paper ware, hand lotion, and post-deboarding clean-up. But the aisle was full of people waiting in line, which impeded the drink service. Oh, hey! More savings on unused drinks!

- Pre-drink service announcement. It used to be that we were notified that goodies were coming, and the passengers were motivated to run to their seats. Now it is "We will be serving you Coke products, Minute Maid juices, and your choice of items on our menu for which you need to use your credit card because we no longer take cash." Well, the drinks were still free, but not before you get an earful of product placement. By the time the cart got to the back of the plane, most everything was out. Business must be good!

Well, I have some new ideas that the airlines might use to squeeze their guests even more. I hear that there will be a charge to sit together, even for children. Can you imagine having someone's young child between you? I mean, I think most kids are delightful, but how do the kid and the parents feel?

Here are more creative ideas. Can you think of any?

*Charge more the closer the passenger wants to sit to the front.
*Put coin operated locks on the lavatories. Charge 4 quarters.
*Put change machines next to the lavatories that give 3 quarters per dollar.
*For the lavatories that are not working, use the overhead sign instead to scroll advertising banners, like for Depends or something.
*Partition the overhead bins and put locks on them like at the train station. Another 4 quarters.
*Charge extra for seats with flotation devices.
... and so on.

Maybe I'm being unfair, but I used to be in this business and it has made a big swing from service with a smile to ... well, a lady just can't say!

OK, back in California, and at the labyrinthine structure of SFO. Out past security, down the street to terminal 3, back in line for security; the longest line I have ever seen at SFO. A guy calls the last 40 of us in line to follow him, takes us upstairs to another part of the airport, security with "no line" (not true), then we have to walk back to the area we originally left except now we are inside security. I don't think it saved anytime, but I got to finish my daily walk.

I tried to get on standby on one of the 4 flights that left for Arcata before my scheduled flight, but they were all overbooked. The issue was weight; they weren't really filling all the seats, but the weight was maxing out. Wonder what that is all about?...

Finally - on my flight home. Looking out at the brown mountains and lakes below. Whoops, no wait. We are going to go back. There is some pressurize warning button that they couldn't figure out (really? Is this a pilot in-training?), and since there are no mechanics to speak of in Arcata, even though we were more than half-way, we had to go back to home base. Sit on the plane. No, deplane. No, wait! Let the mechanic look. OK, now get out. Yikes!

OK, new equipment coming. 6pm. No, probably 6:30pm. OK, 6:45 - reboard, reannouncements, re-fasten seat belts, re-drink service. I look out the window and it looks very familiar. Deja view. These won't be the last travel glitches, and - brace yourselves - I think this is the new ecosystem, for now.

Greyhound, anyone?