Travel Tales, Part V: Phones, What a Drag

I’ve just returned from a week long trip attending the Global Pet Expo in Orlando, Florida. I’ve had a fair amount of travel the past few months, most of which without any unusual circumstances, until yesterday. It was on the flight home when I found inspiration for another installment of Travel Tales.

It all started with the belligerent man who would not hang up his cell phone. This was a guy probably in his early thirties; certainly old enough to know how to behave properly. All passengers had been seated, the cabin doors, closed and the flight attendants were conducting pre-flight checks preparing the cabin for departure. The usual series of announcements had been made, including the “Ladies and gentleman the cabin door has now been closed, please put away all electronic devices, cell phones, computers, laptops, blackberries, anything with an on/off switch”. Actually this was the second such announcement, and third if you count the one just before the doors closed stating that it was time to begin shutting down, ending calls, etc. Now for me, when I hear those initial announcements, that’s usually my indication it is nearing take off time. Considering the fact that I chose to be on this flight to get somewhere, I also want to get to my destination on time. So anything that keeps the flight on schedule is good. As far as the concept of not using cell phones or electronic stuff at take-off and landing, I’ve heard it may not actually interfere with airplane communications, but the way I figure it is I’m really not an expert, and besides it’s the airline/FAA rules so who am I to argue? And further, if it helps prevent pilot error or other equipment problems that seems like a good enough reason for me to follow orders, so I have no problem turning it all off. Apparently not for the fellow passenger who is the subject of this first story. There he sat in front of me, jabbering away on his cell phone ABOUT NOTHING. Believe me I know, as I was eavesdropping on the entire conversation- well he was speaking loudly, well that plus the volume on the earpiece was so loud I could hear the person on the other end of the call. A flight attendant walked by and saw him still on the phone and she asked him if he was ending the call, to which he just nodded but continued talking. She walked away and returned a minute later but this time said to him: “You’ll need to say good bye now on that call” and walked away a second time. A full minute later she returned to find him still talking- she stopped and firmly said to him: “Sir, Two words, Good- Bye”. Apparently he must have owned the airline or be king of the Universe because he ignored her and waved her off dismissively. She started walking away but I saw her stop dead in her tracks, as if she processed what he had gestured to her, and decided to herself she was not going to take that from him. She returned to confront him- and he was STILL ON THE PHONE. He looked up and mumbled something to the flight attendant, to which she replied: “Excuse me, sir?” He replied, “You know what I said”. I was thrilled, this was quite titillating, suddenly I wasn’t feeling sleepy anymore. The flight attendant was revving the volume of her voice, yet was still professional and explained that as a passenger of this flight he was required to observe all crew direction and announcements, and if he refused to do so would be removed from the flight. The man was was belligerent and nasty to her, and they continued to exchange remarks. Finally another flight attendant came to the scene, and then a co-pilot. And then finally I heard the cabin door re-open and on walked an air marshal. And with that, the man was ejected from the flight. It was quite swift. I was thrilled. What a fool, all because of some precious phone call that he would not end. This did delay departure a bit to complete some paperwork, but only a few minutes, so I thought it was well worth the wait.

Once the flight was in air and reached cruising altitude, in-flight service began. I had taken a little nap and hadn’t really paid much attention to the attendant who was now working the section where I was seated (this was a different person from the earlier story). She seemed sweet enough and was doting on the passengers darting about from row to row. I noticed her movements seemed a bit jerky, which is what first caught my attention. Before I go any further with this story, I feel compelled to state that I am not criticizing, or making fun of this person in any way. The attendant was rather tall, slender, lots of make-up and had a big poof of dirty blondish hair. She had an awkward smile, and a nervous habit of running her fingers through the puff of hair parted over her forehead. I studied her for awhile, from afar. There was something quite unusual but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was about her. When she began serving drinks, it appeared as if she was fumbling a bit, darted her eyes back and forth between the passenger and the glasses with which she was working. Things were flying in every direction- lime wedges slipping from her fingers, napkins bursting open from the plastic package and fluttering outward like butterflies. She was jittery for sure. But that wasn’t it, there was something else but soon I was pulled into my music playing and distracted yet again. When it was time for the meal service she returned with her little trolley. I took one look and it hit me. She looked like Dorothy Michaels. In case the name Dorothy Michaels doesn’t ring a bell, it was the name of the character Dustin Hoffman played in the film “Tootsie”. I was fascinated. I immediately corrected myself, thinking, no, it can’t be. I must be imagining things. Maybe it was just a hormonal imbalance. That seemed plausible. At all times I maintained absolute discretion, but I felt compelled to look closer. Now on inspection, it was as if everything pointed in that direction. My mind shifted what I was seeing and convinced me that I was right. Now It does not matter to me either way- I always say live and let live. It may not be my cup of tea, but far be it for me to judge, comment or draw attention to the situation. But it struck me how good she did look and I don't think anyone else had noticed anything different about her. What drew attention my to her was her exaggerated movements, seemingly designed to be extra convincing that she was a woman, almost a motherly figure. I began looking up and down the aisle at the other attendants, to observe their movement and manner. perhaps I was just imagining things. Nope, nothing unusual there. Ours was different. She must have been nervous about something, I began to wonder, was this perhaps a first day “out” working again after the change? Or had someone been unnecessarily cruel earlier that upset her? There was no way to know, of course. Then something else caught my eye- her legs. I leaned down to get my computer bag while she was standing behind me. Her stocking covered legs were long and smooth, okay seems normal. But then I saw it. A distinct patch of leg hair, and not just a little stubble, they were full curly hairs. It looked as if these legs recently had full grown leg hair on them and were recently shaved smooth- all but one little patch that was missed. Ah-ha. I felt like Sherlock Holmes, cracking the case of the Flight Attendant in Question. Once I had solved the mystery I smiled to myself, having satisfied my own curiosity. I settled back into my chair, closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, humming "Maybe It's You" by Stephen Bishop to myself. It was indeed worthy of a Travel Tales episode.

-Rick Rockhill

Travel Tales: Journey to My-Yammy

*The following is true account.*
Travel has always been a component of my job throughout my career. When you combine my work-related travel with my personal enjoyment of "people watching" plus my side hobby of writing and blogging, travel provides a seemingly never-ending supply of content for my blog. Thus was born my Travel Tales series. Today I am in Miami, Florida speaking at a Global Conference on Pet Nutrition. I flew out of Palm Springs on an early flight, still half asleep but resigned to bag a few zzzzz's on the cross-country journey. The moment I sat down I knew I would not be able to sleep. Partly due to some distracting passengers, and partly my strange desire to hear it all. I was comfortably settled in my seat, observing these representatives of humanity slowly crawl down the narrow aisles. I looked down at my Blackberry momentarily to check e-mail when I heard the voice of an excited and bubbly woman chatting. She was overwhelmed with excitement of being on a plane. I glanced up at her as she approached-she looked to be in her mid-thirties. Her perfectly-coiffed blond hair sat on her head like a helmet. She was dressed as though she had put a great deal of thought into what she picked out to wear that day (see photo of actress Pat Priest for a visual image). I made the fatal mistake of making eye contact. "Hi my name is Connie!" she boomed. "This is my first flight and I am SO excited". I feigned a smile and immediately dove for my carry-on bag to find my headphones and iPod. Much to my horror, she was sitting right behind me. It could have been worse, I thought, imagine if she were in my row. Already seated next to her was a big burly man, middle-aged with a dyed mustache that resembled broom bristles. His eyebrows looked like giant caterpillars. Through my head phones I could hear Connie introduce herself to the big burly man next to her. Turns out she won this trip in a contest and it was her first time ever traveling. As Connie chatted with the big burly man next to her, he launched into small talk, except there wasn't anything small about it. In fact he had a big huge voice that bellowed several rows in every direction. I watched his caterpillar eyebrows move up and down as he spoke. Then suddenly, I looked to my left, and standing next to me, signaling that she wanted into the row was "Amazon Woman". I started to remove my headphones and stood up to move out into the aisle, but before I could do so, she lumbered in, past me, stepping on my toes. I winced in pain as I felt my toes meld into one piece of flesh. My eyes watered. As Amazon Woman sat down next to the window, even she turned around to see what all the noise was from Connie and big burly man. Before I could get my headphones back on, Amazon Woman sparked up a conversation: "Are you going to My-Yammy too?" I thought for a moment, this woman can't be too bright, because in fact we were all going to Miami. But I gave her the benefit of the doubt and just nodded. I'm not sure why I didn't actually speak, but no words came out. Perhaps because her appearance scared me some. She was very very tall, with a wild black hair, and enormous hands and feet. Meanwhile Connie kept chatting away endlessly pressing all the buttons and admiring the blankets provided. Later, when the in-flight service began, big burly man ordered a vodka and tomato juice, which he immediately justified as a cure for his "restless leg syndrome". This seemed utterly ridiculous, but fascinated Connie which led to a two hour conversation about health issues. Turns out big burly man not only suffers from restless leg syndrome, but also sleep apnea, erectile dysfunction, allergies and what he called "carpet tunnel syndrome". As soon as I heard him say that, my eyes shot open. Carpet tunnel syndrome? He must mean carpal tunnel (as in the wrists). Well not only did he continue to explain it, but Connie kept repeating it back to him: "Ooooohhh that carpet tunnel syndrome sounds just awful, how do you catch it?" She asked. Big burly man replied that he caught it from his job. When she asked what he did for a living he told her he was a truck driver for guess who- Shaw floors and carpets (honestly what are the odds?). Connie drew the conclusion that he must have caught it from the carpets he was delivering. Big burly man agreed (although in all fairness I think he meant from the repetitive pressure and movement, but not actually FROM the carpets. Anyway, I tried to contain my fit of giggles and managed a fake cough instead. Amazon Woman looked over toward me and asked if we could use the restrooms "up there". I gazed back at her. Within a millisecond I decided to have fun with her, so once again I didn't respond verbally, I just shrugged my shoulders in a quizzical manner. She quickly stood up and banged her head on the ceiling- I immediately thought of Herman Munster, except if it were an episode of The Munsters, his head would have gone through the overhead cabin and he would have exclaimed "Uh, Lily!!" By the time my mind came back to the moment, Amazon Woman was walking past me, but I was still seated, and of course she stepped on my other foot this time. I reached down to hold my foot as it throbbed in pain. Amazon Woman grunted as she made her way down the aisle, knocking into an elderly woman's head who shrieked loudly.

Meanwhile Connie was helping call the flight attendant over so big burly man could order another vodka. Connie explained to the attendant that her friend has restless leg syndrome and the vodka really helps him. The flight attendant was nonplussed and returned with the mini-bottle. 'Ahhh, perfect", barked big burly man. By this time he was three vodkas into it, and he was guffawing loudly at virtually everything Connie said.

Amazon Woman returned- this time I pulled my legs up onto the seat, Indian style. "How soon until we get to My-Yammy?" she asked me. I figured, why start talking now, so I just twisted my face into an expression that indicated I didn't understand English. So she asked me a second time, but more loudly, and slowly: 'WHAT TIME TILL WE GET TO MY-YAMMY?" I just shook my head and raised my shoulders, still saying nothing. I was having fun with this now.She finally gave up asking me and I secretly smiled inside. I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She was studying me, as if I were a rare species she had never seen before. Amazon Woman leaned back in her seat and the combination of her weight and the fact that the big burly man was himself large, her seat hit his knees. He leaned forward and asked her to move forward a bit. As she adjusted her seat, she pulled and tugged at her head rest, and suddenly, off it came- the entire blue leather head rest came off in her hands. Again, I thought, she is Herman Munster. Big burly man shouted "Whoa now that's some strength you have there, honey". Amazon Woman turned deep red and continued to fumble with it, attempting to reconnect it in place. Connie called over the flight attendant for another vodka for her friend with restless leg syndrome and to ask for help with Amazon Woman's head seat malfunction. Frustrated with not being able to reconnect it, she just handed it over to the flight attendant. I watched the expression on the face of the flight attendant who was clearly intimidated by Amazon Woman. She sheepishly walked away with the head rest and exhaled deeply. Amazon Woman called out to the attendant, "Am I going to have to sit here all the way to My Yammy without a head rest? she asked. The flight attendant replied: "Well this flight is completely full, so we don't have any other seats for you".Amazon Woman grumbled and then in frustration jerked her head against the window shade, which let our a slight crack sound from the impact of her massive head. Herman Munster had struck again. I turned up the volume on my iPod and squeeze my eyes shut tightly as a heaved and laughed uncontrollably. Sometimes reality is better than fiction. And then I realized, this just was all-too deserving of a blog post.
-Rick Rockhill

Travel Tales, Part III

Note: Travel Tales are true observations witnessed by The Palm Springs Savant while on the road. Truth is, (as they say) stranger than fiction. Read these for yourself:
Yesterday's air travels yet again provided fresh fodder for my budding new series called Travel Tales. The first leg of my journey was an early morning flight from Providence. I boarded quickly and settled in to observe my fellow passengers make their way to their seats. Southwest has the easiest boarding process. Their open seating really speeds things up- not having to squint to find a row or seat number makes things substantially easier for everyone involved. Yet even this apparently proved too difficult for one chap who was confused and befuddled from the moment he stepped onto the plane. It all stemmed from his boarding group number, which was C 10. He seemed to think that he was entitled to seat C, in row 10. Somehow he missed the memo that Southwest was open seating. And somehow he didn't catch the point that he did not have a boarding pass stub indicating a seat number, or that no one else was sitting in assigned seats. Anyway he approached the seat marked 10C and proceeded to shout at a rather scantily clad woman who was already seated in 10C. She was clearly startled when he accused her of being in his seat. After they traded barbs and choice words, she flipped him a double-bird (two hands) and told him she wasn't moving. He responded by turning his backside to her and rather ceremoniously released a long trumpet sound of noxious flatulence in her face, turning his head back long enough to shout one last expletive at her. Unlucky for me, I was a bit closer to all this than I would have preferred. Let's just say the after-effects of his gas-passing hung in the air and lingered for what seemed like the entire flight. It was utterly gross.

The incident on my second flight was a dose of pure physical comedy at its finest. Once again, it was during the boarding process. The final group of passengers were making their way down the aisle, in search of any open seat. The flight was full, so there weren't many options available. I spied a guy approaching who was busy multi- tasking like I had never seen. He was talking on the phone with his head tilted to one side, while texting on another wireless device, while holding a Starbucks coffee and pushing his roller bag down the aisle! He approached the row where I was seated and saw an open seat across the other side of the aisle. He lifted his bag up into the overheard bin, still talking non-stop on the phone. He didn't stop to think. He lifted one side of the bag with one hand and "balanced" it with the other hand that held a cup of coffee and his BlackBerry. As he glided the bag into the overhead bin, he turned his coffee hand counter-clockwise, still never pausing his phone conversation. He was completely unaware that he was emptying the contents of his coffee down onto the passenger below, a Southern woman with a big poofy hair-doo wearing a flower on her lapel. It was a sticky mess; coffee dripping from the ovehead storage, all down the seats and into the aisle. The Southern lady with the big fancy hair-doo shrieked in horror and cried out "Sweet Jesus, my perm!" I was just across the aisle and tried to help by tapping the guy on the arm to signal that he was dousing the woman in coffee, but he jerked his hand back which caused a backlash motion sending more coffee in the direction behind him. It all happened so quickly I couldn't react any faster. By this time the Southern Lady was sobbing, her makeup running down her cheeks, from a combination of coffee and tears. It was quite the mess. Lucky for me I escaped any of the coffee splattering which was a good thing because I needed to head to work directly after my flight. The flight attendant made her way over and helped remedy the situation  as best she could. As soon as the plane was above 10,000 feet I whipped out my laptop and documented these two incidents while they were fresh in my mind. Nothing like some new Travel Tales to kick off the week, eh?

After re-reading both of these, I still they are worthy of a Travel Tales installment, don't you agree? At least no one was eating food off the floor this time. There's something to be grateful for anyway. Thanks for stopping by today, I greatly appreciate it.

-Rick Rockhill

Travel Tales, Part II

You may recall back in July I wrote a post called Travel Tales. It chronicled a few incidents I observed while on the road. This past week, while I was in San Francisco I witnessed another episode that I thought was worth of a fresh Travel Tales follow up installment. I should start off with the admission reminder that I am somewhat of a germ-o-phobe. That being said here is the scene: I'm at SFO airport, waiting for my flight home. I'm at the gate area, relaxing with my Wall Street Journal newspaper when a woman sits down in the open seat next to me. She has a white bag with some food she had just purchased. As she settle into her seat, she pulls out a white carton of hot soup, and a piece of French baguette. All of a sudden, the whole piece of bread falls out of her hand and onto the floor. As it was sudden movement, naturally it caught my eye. She was still fiddling with her things and there the piece of bread sat on the filthy airport carpet at our feet. And then, the UNTHINKABLE occurred. She reached down, picked up the piece of bread and yes, you guessed it- she proceeded to EAT THE BREAD that had been on the FILTHY AIRPORT CARPET. I discreetly pulled out my camera and took these photos moments after. The top left is her hand, dipping the scum-laden, bacteria covered piece of bread into her soup.

above: The circle indicates where the piece of bread landed on the airport carpet. As if this were not enough, at one point, her plastic spoon fell onto the floor as she was eating. So keep in mind, the spoon was wet with soup. And yes, once again she reached down, picked up the spoon from the airport carpet and continued using it. SHE DIDN'T EVEN WIPE OFF THE SPOON. So there must have been carpet fibers, dust or worse- fecal matter or something like that on her spoon. God only KNOWS what that spoon picked up. Ugh, so utterly disgusting. While slurping her soup, the woman proceeded to strike up a conversation with me, so I used the opportunity to snap those photos. I pretended I was "experimenting" with my camera, trying to shoot a photo of a plane on the tarmac. That allowed me to get the photo of her hand with the bread and the soup. Oh it was so gross. It reminded me once again, how disgusting people can be. Now- all that being said, I should state that I fully understand that there are people in far worse situations, hungry, destitute and desperate who do not have food to eat. I have full sympathy for such people and would never judge someone in that situation eating and not wasting something just because it had fallen on the floor. But I differentiate between someone in that situation compared to this business woman who should have better judgement. So tell me, am I crazy about this? If your piece of French bread and soupy spoon both fell on the floor at the airport, would you eat the bread and use the spoon? Leave a comment, I'm curious. Thank you for stopping by.

-Rick Rockhill

Travel Tales

I've been meaning to write a post about this but keep forgetting to do so. With all the air travel I've had lately, one tends to see a lot of bizarre behavior at airports and in flight. I've long been a student of public behavior, or "people watching" as it is more commonly called. All I can say is people do the darnedest things. Before proceeding any further, I should disclose a few things up front: 1) I am somewhat of a germ-o-phobe, 2) I am a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to manners and conducting oneself as a gentleman or lady, and 3) I have a tendency to be a little judgemental. That being said, I feel compelled to share these Travel Tales here with you. The first is the Tale of the Dirty Sandwich. Our flight had taken off and we had reached cruising altitude. I'm settled in, wearing my neck pillow and prepared for the journey. My eyes were closed in an attempt to block out the surrounding distractions, and maybe even catch a wink or two. All of a sudden I hear a rustling of plastic and start to smell food. Out of curiosity, I open my eyes and glance over to the seat across the aisle. There is a woman unpacking the contents of a plastic grocery store bag and laying it all out on her tray table. I watched, fascinated by what she had brought onto the plane. Truth be told, I have no issue with the fact she brought her own food, as airline food is nearly inedible if you are even lucky to get any at all. Anyhow, she starts an assembly line, which I now realize is to feed herself and two others seated nearby. But then she does something that really grosses me out: she lays out all the food components DIRECTLY ONTO THE TRAY TABLE, with no napkin or plastic. Picture this: a stack of sliced deli cheese, sliced cold cuts, sliced bread, PICKLES, all sitting there touching the tray table. She whips out a jar of mustard and begins making sandwiches. Apparently she must have the one completely sanitary tray table in the universe. Or perhaps she and her guests were already riddled with deadly bacteria and didn't mind a bit more from the tray table. They all happily consumed their lunch. When she was finished- she found a glob of mustard on the tray table. And yes, you guessed it, she swabbed it with her index finger of the tray table and licked her finger! I nearly vomited right there and then.
Next story: The Tale of the Dirty Diaper
I'm sitting in an airport, waiting at the gate to board the flight. We had easily 30 minutes to go before boarding started. Plenty of time for anyone to use the restroom which was 30 feet away. A mother and father stood nearby with their young toddler who was running around terrorizing everyone. The mother decided it was time to change the boy's diaper, so she calls him over, puts him on the floor, right at the gate, removes his pants and dirty diaper, and begins the usual process of changing a poopy diaper, right there in front of everyone- ON THE FLOOR AT THE GATE. Everyone watched in horror, especially me. What is it with people, couldn't she walk to the restroom to do this? Then once finished, she helped herself to a bag of potato chips, never having washed her hands.
My final story is the Tale of the Silly Songstress. Just my luck, I sit next to the future American Idol contestant who thinks she is better than she is. I was in my seat, feeling a bit grumpy so I kept to myself and didn't chat with anyone as I sat down and organized myself. I began reading my newspaper when the person sitting next to me begins singing, just loud enough that I could hear it. I stopped for a moment, and tried to figure out what was going on. I kept my face buried in the paper, not wanting to encourage her further. She wasn't wearing headphones and unknowingly "singing along", she was just sitting there singing. After two minutes I put down my paper, turned to her and said, "Would you mind not singing aloud, I find it rather distracting." She started to giggle and said "Aw you are sweet, let me try a different song for you." To my horror she continued to sing on and on. I finally had to break out my sony noise cancelling headphones and play my iPod. She actually had the nerve to ask why I needed to listen to my own music when I had her sitting there. I let her have it. She finally shut up and didn't say a word to me for the rest of the flight. Sometimes the direct approach is best.
Anyway those are my Travel Tales for today. Do you have any to share?
-Rick Rockhill