Travel Notes for February 9th, 2023

I hope you are doing well.

Some of you cynics out there – and the probabilities are that there may be one or two cynics among the millions of readers of this weekly screed – might ask “is Rich Perkey really, truly hoping I am doing well?”

The truth is…

No, actually, I am sitting on Delta Airlines Flight 416, which is parked on the tarmac at LaGuardia Airport. I am hoping that a mechanic will fix the problem with the air system. I am hoping that the gentleman seated next to me will learn to cover his mouth when he fails to stifle his cough. I am hoping that he does not have COVID-19 (or any number of COVID), diphtheria, tuberculosis, shingles, hoof and mouth disease, or any other pestilence that might penetrate my baby blue mask.

I only mention the color of my mask in that it matches my eyes.

I am paid to assess talent, and I am thinking that this mechanic is looking a little shaky. I mean, I am okay with a guy googling, “What is a five letter word containing the letters S, T, A, G, and E?” so he can do today’s Wordle, but I have a real problem with this mechanic googling, “How do I fix the problem with the avionics cooling system on an Airbus A320-200?”

But the mechanic done good…I think I heard him tell the pilot, “Check the plug!”

I was a bit rattled when I checked in for this flight, only to learn the startling, upsetting news that I have been demoted by Delta Airlines.

Yesterday, I was Diamond Medallion.

Today, I am Platinum Medallion.

Never mind the fact that Delta never actually sent me the Diamond Medallion!

How am I going to break the news of my demotion to my wife and kids?

I looked around at the other people waiting at gate 76 at LaGuardia Airport. I spotted my former peeps, the Diamond Medallioners, as they inch closer to the gate, ready to seize what is rightfully theirs – the right to sit down in a chair earlier than me.

I am now a proud member of the huddle masses of Sky Priority Proletariat.

PLATINUM MEDALLIONERS, UNITE!

I inched forward, assuming a Diamond Medallioner posture, hoping to blend in with my former “Bling Buddies.” Diamond Medallioners are noted for their hunched shoulders and furrowed brows, as they intently study their iPhone 29s. Diamond Medallioners don’t actually read anything on their phones; instead, they caress the seductive curves of the iPhone 29, while admiring the visage reflecting back to them.

Screw you, Diamond Medallioners, I don’t care if you get on the flight before me. I will be right behind you, and I will outwork you and I will out travel you. You guys are soft, with all your upgrades and free drinks and fancy food served to you at 37,000 feet off the ground.

I will make a mustard sandwich when I get home…We Platinum Medallioners are tough.

My seatmate just made his cough sound like a guffaw. The sound he made was came close to a “chortle.”

Dude, there is no way I am falling for the “my COVID cough is just me saying ‘harrumph’”!

The video monitor on the seat in front of me exhorts “Watch Free TV!” Hmmm…I remember my credit card getting charged hundreds of dollars for something. Is this TV “free”? Or did I just spend hundreds of dollars for two packs of Biscoff cookies?

I wish I knew what nerve gas the airlines spray through the air vents right before the plane is about to roll down the runway. Whatever it is, it acts as a knock out drug on me. It is the like the anesthesia you are given before your colonoscopy, the only difference being is that when I wake up after the Airplane Knockout Gas is given to me, my wife is not sitting next to me, laughing at the stupid things I say as I emerge from my drug-induced coma. Instead, I awaken to my disease-ridden seatmate, who looks perturbed because I leaned my head against his shoulder and drooled.

The guy in front of me leans his seat back…ha! He can’t annoy me! I am in “Comfort Plus”! I wonder…what about these seats meets the definition of “comfort”? Where I am truly flummoxed is…where is the “plus” in “Comfort Plus”? “Plus” after “Comfort” implies that I am getting something extra, in addition to my “comfort”. I sit patiently awaiting The Plus.

That the pilot always comes on the intercom right before the plane starts to thunder down the runway and says, “Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for departure” has always bothered me. 

First of all – isn’t this a little late? Couldn’t you give the flight attendants a little more advanced notice that they need to “prepare the cabin for departure”? I have calculated that the flight attendants only have about 30 seconds to “prepare the cabin for departure.”

Exactly what does the pilot want the flight attendant to do to “prepare the cabin for departure”? Weatherize? Winterize? Cover the bushes? Shut off the water to the toilets? Cut fresh flowers and put them in a vase? Empty the dishwasher? Run a load of laundry? Take the sheets off the beds? Geez, these poor flight attendants have to do all this in 30 seconds?

Ah, yes, I now remember that all I have to do is here in this chair, and I will be flown to my home. The pilot and the mechanic and the flight attendants, they do all the “heavy lifting”.

Now that I think about it…

I hope you are doing well.