It has been a couple of years since Lady M and I went on the kind of vacation that involves what was once a great thrill: a long flight to another part of the world. Unfortunately, it is something we no longer look forward to with child-like enthusiasm. It’s not the destination we dread, it’s the getting there. We remember when “getting there is half the fun” was a meaningful slogan. Well, now it’s more like “getting there is no fun at all.”
My first flight was on United Airlines from Newark, New Jersey to Elko, Nevada. I really wanted to be a cowboy in the worst way. (And, that’s just about the way it worked out. But that’s another story for another day.) Seems my parents thought sending me across country was a great way to get me out of the house. So, off I went to be a cowboy. While I was riding doggies and punching cows, my folks moved and didn’t leave a forwarding address. Not really, but close.
But about flying. I went first class. Food, beverages, friendly stewardesses – I know, they are cabin attendants now, but then they were stewardesses – it was wonderful. Now, no eatable food, no complimentary beverages, and – well, let’s just say the cabin attendants are … uhhhh efficient. My memory says the fare was about $325.
Over the years, I have flown Pan Am, TWA, Eastern, and so many other, wonderful airlines. Most don’t even exist, today. We sat in comfortable seats on Lockheed Constellations, Douglas DC7s, Convairs Martins, and some I don’t remember. Sometimes we lost an engine and once the baggage door flew open during flight. Not always uneventful but always an experience.
None of the airlines, past or present, however, compares to PSA. Here was an airline that flew from San Francisco to San Diego and back with intermediate stops. But that was it. Crews started in their home city and ended their day in their home city. The cabin crews were friendly, full of practical jokes and, I have to say it, gorgeous. I know I will get in trouble for that – Lady M already says ’you can’t say that’, – but ask anyone who flew in those days and they will agree with me.
Since flights were short, there were no meals. But snacks and free-flowing “beverages of your choice” were aplenty. Flights left every hour and flying time was just about that long. Just enough time to enjoy a “beverage of your choice” and get in a few hands of cribbage. Believe me, flying was a pleasure. Oh yes, and if I remember correctly, the fare was around $25. Maybe that’s wrong but that’s what I remember. Please correct me, if you remember better.
Now, lets look at fares today. First of all, they change every day. Check a flight to Chicago and today, it might be $400. Tomorrow, the same flight can be $600. I guess fuel prices change, overnight. Not only that, you pay extra to board early, get a wider seat, check baggage, get something that might pass for food in some developing countries, and, oh yes, if you want to place something in an overhead bin, there will be a slight extra charge.
I read last week that one airline is going to charge by your weight. You know what that means: The next airline takeover will be when Weight Watchers absorbs United Airlines realizing that they have discovered the golden egg-laying goose.
Well, Lady M and I don’t have any long-distance travel plans in the near term. We can hop in our hybrid and drive to a lot of places just as fast as flying. And we don’t have to remove our shoes to go through security lines, or pay extra for a pillow or blanket. And no one weighs us to determine how much extra gas we will need because we had a few too many desserts the night before.
Although our travel plans are minimal, I may be taking a trip, alone. It just depends if the drone that flew over our house last week spotted me.
You see, I committed a serious legal offense. It seems that Lady M thought it would be a good time for me to get out the cushions for the patio furniture, now that summer has arrived. Well, I couldn’t stand those tags showing for another year. You know, the ones that say, “under penalty of law, this tag is not to be removed”.
Well, I confess, I removed them. All of them. So, my next column may come to you from Sing Sing, or wherever they send serious criminals. If so, I hope they send me there first class on a new Boeing Dreamliner. That might almost be worth a few months in the pokey.
Henry “Hank” Miller is a retired rocket scientist, he has an interest in classic automobiles, good conversation, martinis and community affairs. Reach him at ha******@gm***.com.
