Hello Gav Thought I would share my North American flight experiences. Well has the glamour of flying really gone? In the fifties there was good quality food about which you "could" complain. Now there is no room to complain about the food - you dont get any. The midnight early bird plane from New York to LA would serve steak mmmm.... now you receive a small packet of "bits" I call them bits -who knows what they really are. In the fifties you dressed up to fly. You put on a tie and looked smart. Today you need to get as comfortable as possible as the plane is crowded to the max - the seats so close together that my knees are often the support for the seat in front of me. And the tray table has to stay put I cannot fold it down over my "belly". In the fifities you were excited to fly and looked forward to the event. Today with terrorism - one boards a plane with trepadation even fear. Then their is the screeening of luggage the need to remove one shoes the herding of passengers like cattle, with the intermittent shout "move over into that line - you, hey you, I am speaking to you move over" Then there is the ever feared security check. "Take out your gels and liquids"..... contained in a small plastic bag. Each container not to be more than 100 ml. (beware if your Pierre Cardin aftershave is 110 ml they confiscate it. "Thats too big, too much liquid. And they would know what is too much liquid, their knowledge of too much as been gained from a vast experience of examining 100 ml bottles through a clear plasic bags. But of course we have not reached the embarrasing part of security yet. This is when you need to remove your shoes.... and your belt. The thing that holds up your pants. And if you are like me and have more than ample girth - the belt is very helpful in holding up ones pants. Here I was at Chicago's O'Hare International airport, belt undone, shoes off, suitcase in one hand and laptop in the other when slowly I feel that my pants have gained the urge to move south on me. Slowly I feel the waist line sliding down over my buttocks and onwards to my ankles. Squirming I try to stop the southward migration of fabric. But, it was at this time I receive the hey you shout "move over there please.. hey, hey you get into that line, come on move please you are holding up the line". At 265 pounds, I begin the "Chicago shuffle" clamping my ankles tighly together to ensure that my pants come with me I scoot accross the floor like a dainty rhino, about to give birth, a sight that is sure to get a few chuckles. The gent behind me chuckles... do I smile and under my breath and advise him to take another plane one that does not stop at Chicago but goes straight to hell or do I simply smile as I see him being pulled aside by a very large (yes very large) woman... hee, hee, hee - she's wearing a latex rubber glove, snugly scrafted over her obese fingers; like a bunch of blue bananas ready to explode. Of course I smiled at him.... and said - "hope you have lubricant", his eyes told the rest of the story. Is flying today as glamorous as the fifties... NO, but it sure can be entertaining.
1 comment:
Hello Gav
Thought I would share my North American flight experiences.
Well has the glamour of flying really gone?
In the fifties there was good quality food about which you "could" complain. Now there is no room to complain about the food - you dont get any.
The midnight early bird plane from New York to LA would serve steak mmmm.... now you receive a small packet of "bits" I call them bits -who knows what they really are.
In the fifties you dressed up to fly. You put on a tie and looked smart. Today you need to get as comfortable as possible as the plane is crowded to the max - the seats so close together that my knees are often the support for the seat in front of me. And the tray table has to stay put I cannot fold it down over my "belly".
In the fifities you were excited to fly and looked forward to the event. Today with terrorism - one boards a plane with trepadation even fear. Then their is the screeening of luggage the need to remove one shoes the herding of passengers like cattle, with the intermittent shout "move over into that line - you, hey you, I am speaking to you move over"
Then there is the ever feared security check. "Take out your gels and liquids"..... contained in a small plastic bag. Each container not to be more than 100 ml. (beware if your Pierre Cardin aftershave is 110 ml they confiscate it. "Thats too big, too much liquid. And they would know what is too much liquid, their knowledge of too much as been gained from a vast experience of examining 100 ml bottles through a clear plasic bags.
But of course we have not reached the embarrasing part of security yet. This is when you need to remove your shoes.... and your belt. The thing that holds up your pants. And if you are like me and have more than ample girth - the belt is very helpful in holding up ones pants. Here I was at Chicago's O'Hare International airport, belt undone, shoes off, suitcase in one hand and laptop in the other when slowly I feel that my pants have gained the urge to move south on me. Slowly I feel the waist line sliding down over my buttocks and onwards to my ankles. Squirming I try to stop the southward migration of fabric. But, it was at this time I receive the hey you shout "move over there please.. hey, hey you get into that line, come on move please you are holding up the line". At 265 pounds, I begin the "Chicago shuffle" clamping my ankles tighly together to ensure that my pants come with me I scoot accross the floor like a dainty rhino, about to give birth, a sight that is sure to get a few chuckles. The gent behind me chuckles... do I smile and under my breath and advise him to take another plane one that does not stop at Chicago but goes straight to hell or do I simply smile as I see him being pulled aside by a very large (yes very large) woman... hee, hee, hee - she's wearing a latex rubber glove, snugly scrafted over her obese fingers; like a bunch of blue bananas ready to explode.
Of course I smiled at him.... and said - "hope you have lubricant", his eyes told the rest of the story.
Is flying today as glamorous as the fifties... NO, but it sure can be entertaining.
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