Best Laid Plans....

This time I was prepared. I bought a burrito even-there was tofu involved. I was ready for the six hour coach flight, I really was, and I wasn’t going to complain. I even had things to “do”.

And then the impossible happened- party of two in first is a no-show.

So here it is, flight 223 back from Boston to LAX, and for once they’re serving right on plan- EFBO and all. And for once I’m in the bulkhead….but definitely not complaining. I’m ordering the pasta.

There's no comparison to my last flight- A few short days ago I was subject to the shortest overnight in history- we landed 40 minutes early. I shared an exit row with another passenger sans upgrade, but with a few drinks. Not a smooth flight, and at someplace between 12 and 3am is not really the time you want to realize the in-flight movie is the chipmunks. It’s just not what you want teasing you that you can’t sleep at 36,000ft.

Anyhow, it’s been awhile since my last post, not devoid of flying, but full of everything else it seems. Even my bartender at the Admiral’s club asked where I’d been. Truth is, I’m nearing the end of this crazy experiment in what it’s like to be a travel-maven. Though even grounded, I don’t think I’ll ever shake the urge to play the frequent flyer- the hidden rules of the system, the seat-booking game, the inside lingo, and of course the single-serving friends.

Speaking of which, my seatmate and I were both well appraised of our good luck tonight. Heady with the good fortune, we converse about the little things- the type of plane, the seats, where he’s off to for the next week. The banter is short, clipped as we figure each other out, I’m answering the questions:

“What plane is it?”

“737. They took the 757 off this route a few months ago; it ruins the boarding process at Logan- no drinks until in flight.”

“So you fly this one a lot.”

“Yes. I like it when it gets in early. Tailwinds. Why does my seatbelt have an airbag?”

“Mine does too, that’s new.”

“Lawsuits, this must be a new plane, I heard they took delivery of ten new ones last quarter. And still no wireless.”

“You learn this from being executive platinum?”

“I keep my ears open, it can’t be helped. And yes, it's all they make it out to be.”

The plane takes off, and we talk about work, vaguely of course. He’s nice, a typical airplane friend and I’ve had much worse. Still, I’ll never see him again; or if I do I won’t notice. Soon I’ll miss these conversations, they’re a good chance to try out myself- a string of first impressions, not something one usually gets. I suppose if I was bold enough I could create a new persona for each flight. It’s not like what I do is typical, and people seem to buy it. I’m not, however, that bold.

Half-way there now, probably someplace over the land of small towns and open spaces, and my latest single-serving friend has put up his feet on the bulkhead to get some sleep before embarking on another week’s work. I should as well, but something about the dim cabin and the last shreds of daylight out the right-side windows is keeping me awake. That or it’s the flight attendants in the galley enjoying a few moments between the dinner service and cabin-cleanup to chat. It might be about basketball, but I can’t really tell. Maybe they’re Boston-based, whatever that even means in today’s frantic and understaffed flight schedule.

But back to the thought of being grounded for a moment before I kick back to watch whatever’s on the short feature tonight. At first brush I was worried, how would things go being really in one place? I haven’t lived in Los Angeles without the flying, the moving, the plans. But there’s a stability and a contented sense I’ve been missing, and I’m looking forward to finding again. To feeling like life can move forward, rather than in circles. However, there are a few more months to go and they’ll be full of planning and preparation for a new chapter, one I’m more than ready for.

Chapters. I promised myself I wouldn’t play that game but it slipped out. I’ve heard a trait in successful people is their view on life’s progression- chapters or linear. Do parts of our experience close, complete- or is it all one unbroken line we can direct?

It’s both. It has to be. Things come and go, but still we’re all headed someplace eventually. Tonight I’m nearing the Pacific again, and what’s promising to be a short night’s sleep so I’ll try to catch a few minutes before we touch-down.

Until next time then…

Chasing Daylight....

There’s something about an evening flight heading West across the country that makes you feel like you’re chasing the turning of the Earth itself. Trying to capture those last moments before you inevitably lose the pursuit, the light sinks beyond the horizon, and you have to give up and console yourself with whatever’s on the in-flight entertainment for the next six hours. And why is it that this feeling is always more poignant on a Sunday?


Tonight that particular battle was lost by my flight 223 from BOS West to LAX at the end of a great weekend in the Bay State. The movie tonight was “The Blindside,” and I’ll admit I enjoyed it though I probably never would have gone out to see it on my own. Once I got over the shock of Sandra Bullock with blond hair, it was all uphill from there.


So then….now that the scene has been set…..what to write about? It’s a brisk 5 ½ hour hop from coast to coast tonight due to a light headwind…but seems like I should have time to ponder a thing or two (I’d like to note at this point that the flight attendants are talking about ‘that one time when it took eight hours to go from JFK to SFO’ and I’m really glad that’s not the case tonight). However, maybe I can blame my lack of momentary inspiration on the guy sitting next to me. He’s giving me nothing. Not a comment on the pasta, not a “hey, going home?” Nothing. He’s been reading the paper since take-off, and now that we’re well across the country….yep, still reading.


He is, however, a polar opposite from my seat mate on the second leg of my Friday flight from St. Louis to Boston. This is the exact reason I have no writing to show for myself from those 2 hours. It started innocently enough, I said, “goin’ home?” And I’m still not entirely sure where we went next, but there was even some frantic back-of-boarding pass note taking as we exchanged tips for the best places to eat, stay, and visit across the county. I happily passed along my list of best Boston brunch spots, and in return I received the run-down on what to do in a weekend in Palm Springs, and more than I think I’d ever know about the neighborhoods and museums of the great city of St. Louis.


During what may have been the shortest dinner service I’ve ever experienced on an American flight, my new friend and I discover we share a common love of Rachel Maddow, and the rest of the flight passed quickly as we switched from proper neutral seat-to-seat conversation to more boisterous political discussion. It was easily the most entertaining flight I’ve had recently, complete with a flight attendant who told us when asked that she didn’t have a helper to serve dinner because she “doesn’t like anyone getting in her way.” I should have gotten her name so I could give her a good review. She even managed to make the 20 min wait for our gate entertaining.


Her best story of the night was in response to the ground crew’s union rule that they have to stop servicing planes in thunderstorms for obvious safety related reasons. She informed us that some travelers do not take well to this situation and will start threatening to fly a competitor next time, to which she has always wanted to answer, “Have fun, Delta’s gates are around the corner. I’m sure it’s sunny and 90 degrees there.” When you’re already on a delayed flight waiting for a gate, sometimes the best medicine for cranky travelers is to hear how they sound to the other occupants of the flight.


Really my travel this weekend has had some really great service. The flight crews, the waiters and bartenders in Boston, and especially the agent at the Admiral’s Club in St. Louis who took nearly half an hour with me to carefully explain all about system-wide upgrades. As a bonus I even got his account of the filming of “Up in the Air,” which yes, he got to be in (though he told me most of the scenes filmed in the Club didn’t make the final cut.)


Well, the ice has melted in my vodka, and the episode of “The Office” has now ended, so that can only mean I’m a cookie and glass of sparkling water away from our decent into LAX. So, unless something overly exciting happens that just needs to be commented on, I’ll sign off until I’m back in the air in a few weeks for a short hop to Austin.


Until then, wishing you light headwinds and entertaining acquaintances….

And in conclusion....

(Lest the timestamp on this entry mislead you, I probably won’t get this posted until tomorrow as I won’t be home tonight until too late to want to turn back on my computer.)

First off- Please forgive the personal moment but as is all too easy to do with strangers, I can’t help myself. Every time I leave Boston, I have to say goodbye to my heart for awhile. Such is the nature of long-distance relationships, but it doesn’t make it any easier to do. As I say goodbye and walk back into the terminal after what is always too short of a visit, I consistently have the urge to turn around and run back (slow motion style of course) like in a romantic comedy’s compulsory happy ending. However life is not, much to my chagrin, a movie. Inevitably I give a last glance, set my jaw, and head to the security line to go home, since in the words of Robert Frost, “I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.”

So here it is, the last airline seat of the weekend. It’s a good one at least, seat 10A, which on a Boeing 757 is both a window, and an aisle seat as it has no one in front of it. So as I stretch my legs out shamelessly, I realize that I can’t get away from writing about a crazy weekend of air travel without the compulsory discussion on “single serving” friends. As anyone who’s seen “Fight Club” knows, this is a quite adept name for pretty much anyone you’ll meet in the air or in an airport. For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of seeing the movie, here’s the clip. Though his connotation on the phenomenon is more ominous than mine, I think it makes a good point, and a great term.

The term "single-serving friend" is perfect, and I have found myself many times deep in discussion about my life with someone I’ve just met minutes ago while on a flight. There’s something enthralling about talking to a total stranger who you will likely never see again, but with whom for a few hours you have a shared experience. For example, last weekend I met a woman whos husband had taken two very successful footware companies public, and as she put it, spent his life “looking at people’s feet.” Before the end of the flight, she was telling me about how she had given her first son up for adoption when she was 18, and had found him almost 20 years later, then learning that he was gay. Luckily for them both, (after a period of soul-searching) she has taken a “love him no matter who he loved” approach, and have become close, to their mutual benefit. It’s stories like those that make me try to turn to the person next to me and offer an icebreaker, usually a simple, “Going home?”

So far this weekend, due to some empty flights and taking the overnight, I hadn’t made any single-serving friends. However, life saved the best for last. I’m sitting in the same row with a true travel maven (for a definition of "mavens" see the entry below). His wealth of knowledge puts me to shame. Firstly, he is part owner of an airline. That alone should give you an idea of how in depth his knowledge of the subject is. He asks me if I’m going home or to work, and I (sheepishly) tell him that I was going home from a weekend of essentially pointless flying. He however just nods and agrees that the double miles make it completely logical. He then informs me that he each year reaches Platinum Status for American, the “1K” club for Delta, and it’s counterpart on Lufthansa (I feel now that there might be one more I’m missing, but am not about to ask him to repeat it). Mind you, none of these is the airline he has part interest in.

The plane takes off, and I watch as we climb at the rain streaking across the window as it changes to thick snow. I start to know how Rudolph might feel on a particularly stormy night. I settle in, and our conversation shifts and my neighbor asks me a “trivia” question: Which is farther, Sydney to San Francisco, or Sydney to Los Angeles? I do a quick geography sketch in my head and come out with the right answer- Los Angeles (it’s further inland and the flightplan takes you across the Pacific.)

In true single-serving friend form, I learn a few things from him I didn’t know. For starters, that the longest nonstop flight in existence is from Singapore to Canada, and that this is the only flight in the top ten list of longest flights he has yet to take. I tell him that “it’s good to have goals,” and he answers he’s not in any hurry.

His maven nature does not, however, end at airlines and routes. He’s also well-versed in the must-haves for the serious traveler. Upon unpacking his laptop he points to the bottom layer of the plastic, informing me that the entire thing is the battery which will last continuously from Los Angeles to South Africa (he, at this moment has it still turned on sitting on the seat next to him while he works on something else, just to make the point). Further, noticing my Bose headsets, he asks expertly if they are “the new 15s?” I look at them stupidly for a moment, having no idea, and in the end we both decide they aren’t.

He settles in to work on his super-maven computer, and I unpack mine (seeing it’s the same model but mine will not last on a flight across either ocean without being re-charged) and start writing about him shamelessly, using 10pt font (grey for privacy). I’ve gotten used to being the more-traveled of the people I have met lately, and I’m feeling a bit upstaged by my travel companion. To that end, however, I would like to point out two things: 1) He’s about 25 years my senior, and 2) I think he copied my choice of beverage.

Time to kick back for a few hours and decide if I’m just tired enough to watch Will Ferrel in green tights, or if I’d rather watch the first season of Better off Ted over again. This weekend has been an experience to say the least, and I’ve enjoyed writing this as it helps me feel like someone else out there might be following along. Air travel is at once a very solitary experience, and one that gives you the chance to connect with people you might never otherwise know existed, with drastically different life stories than yours. I’ve enjoyed sharing this small one of mine, and have intentions of keeping it up in the future.

Thanks again for reading, and best wishes for wherever you might be on your journey.

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