R. Linda:
I be on the colonial grounds of Boston Common enjoying wireless features on a friend's laptop, and a windy breeze off the bay. To think I might not even be here to write this is astounding, but all the same, I really am here and time marches ever onward.
After my bizarre adventure of trying to find Doc Holiday's resting place, and attending an even more bizarre graduation, I left Colorado for home. Only the ride home was far from unexciting. I drove from Glenwood Springs or as the Sioux Indian shopkeeper called it, Glenwood Sprints (it is misspelt on his shopping bags as well), to Denver Airport (which is not in Denver), but way outside of it. I dropped me rental car off at the Dollar Rental place, caught the shuttle to the terminal, got me bags checked, me ticket and I.D. check, and off I went to catch me plane.
I was flying United to Chicago's O'Hare Airport. I didn't have to wait long to board and the plane started to fill. I was sitting by the exit in front of the wing and each passing passenger seemed to get larger as they filed by. I heard America is fat, but I had no idea just how fat. Now remember I come from a country of skinny alcoholics, so I have me cross to bear too. Anyway, I be talking one passenger in two seats fat. Over 250 to 300 lbs. I had one seat next to me and I was thinking, Oh God, what if someone that huge sits next to skinny me? It'll be an uncomfortable flight for sure. Mind you, I was sitting by the exit and there was not a lot of leg room or seat room for that matter.
Now I don't have anything against fat people really. I be just not used to seeing so many in one place. But I do not like being cramped into an airplane like a sardine and then having no room because the McDonald's eating person next to me has supersized every meal. I lucked out and a young Asian girl sat next to me. As we were all seated and waiting for the plane to begin to taxi for takeoff, the stewardess came over and said to us and the people on the other side of the aisle, if we can't help in an emergency she will have to find someone who can and reseat us.
I was like, WHAT? What is going to happen? I've never sat by an emergency exit and didn't know this was standard procedure. She went into detail about what to do if there was an accident and how to open the doors, get chute slides operational, etc. The instruction on how to open the door was straightforward and I thought to meself that at least I'd know the way out. Of course, I was wondering if I said I couldn't do this emergency stuff if she could find someone in first class willing to trade seats, but I let that go because I knew that wouldn't happen.
There I be content with me new found knowledge, headphones on listening to music as I waited for takeoff. I started flipping up the stations looking for something that would entertain me and ended up on channel 9 - Interflight PA and Tower Transmission Station. The pilot was talking to the tower as I relaxed back, closed me eyes, listening.
It didn't take long for me plane to get permission to taxi out to the tarp and even less long to begin takeoff. We started up quickly and I noticed something strange, we were running out of runway. The thought crossed me mind we might not get off the ground when suddenly we started to lift, only the lift was heavy we were not ascending very much and I wondered what we might fly into since we weren't going up. Yes, Linda, I could envision us flying slightly above the cars on the highway, clipping telephone and light polls as we went. Suddenly, channel 9 went off air. Not a good sign in me estimation. Labouriously, we began a slow climb, and channel 9 came sputtering back on.
I heard the tower telling the pilot that he needed to turn left for approach. Approach? That meant we were landing. The pilot responded acknowledging he was turning left and asked for an altitude to level out on. He got 11,000 feet. He said he was at 10 and couldn't get any further. Begorrah me! I knew what was going on, we were in trouble. Either the powers that be forgot to turn the transmission off for the passengers, or they thought we were too dumb to understand airplane code. I have been on flights when this has happened before, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together.
Somehow we reached 11,000 feet and suddenly we had a lift to 12, 14, 20. The pilot asked the tower if he could proceed with destination at his discretion. He was given the go-ahead. I gulped. He asked for an altitude, the tower came back with 30 and a top of 35,000 feet if he could manage it. MANAGE IT? Jesus, Mary and Joseph, if he could manage it? What do you mean if he can MANAGE IT? He somehow did get us up there within 30 minutes. Not one minute, not five, no it took 30 minutes to reach 35,000 feet.
The approach was cancelled, we were on our way. I took the headphones off and studied the exit doors closely. The man across the aisle said to his wife, "I thought for sure we were going to stall out." Oi!
We never got any higher than 35,000 (he was asked to go 37,000 to avoid another plane and could not do it, me heart was in me throat as the tower scrambled to get the other pilot out of our path.
The landing was one hell of a bumpy descent. We would drop 5,000 feet at a time. I don't mean easy drift down, I mean drop and your stomach comes up into your throat with the force. We did this all the way down. The cabin was quiet, passengers white-knuckled, and everyone looked scared. The worst was the flight attendant across from me wringing her hands and looking frightened to death.
We landed and that was bump, bump, bump, big bump, and finally came to the gate as the pilot came on and said, "Any passengers going on to Charlotte, should make other connections and pick up their baggage because this plane is not going on."
I was going to Logan, so I didn't need to know this, but all the same, I could have kissed the ground once off that plane. Only my plane adventures weren't over.
I found me connecting flight and within 15 minutes was sitting once again by an exit. Me seatmate was a German woman who was married to an American. She was chatty and told me how she flies regularly from America to Gustaad to see family and this was her third week of air travel. I said nothing about me flight from Denver, I said practically nothing because she chatted up a storm. Finally, as we were beginning to taxi out to the runway, she said to me, "I was on a flight last year where the engines caught fire and we had an emergency landing. It wouldn't have been so bad but people were screaming. The poor flight attendants were doing their best to calm people, but I was calm. I was sitting at an exit like this and I opened the door once we landed and pushed the button for the chute. You would be amazed at how many panicked passengers injured themselves going down the chute."
I didn't want to hear that. I just got off a bum plane ride and didn't need to know about engines catching fire, panicked passengers, and chutes activated for sliding. Begorrah me I tell you, I could have hit her with me shillelagh if I had one. I put the headphones on, switched to channel 9 and listened to the tower. Takeoff began and she started this whining sound, like, "Oh, oh ohhh." Takeoff was fine, with no lag this time, altitude was reached and we were actually 15 minutes ahead of schedule by the time we landed. I kicked back, closed me eyes and feigned sleep to shut me seatmate up as soon as we were airborne.
Now over channel 9 came a North West Airline pilot asking the Cleveland tower for permission to move out of what he described as "extreme turbulence" and he was told to go 100 miles east and he'd be away from it. A Delta pilot asked the tower where the turbulence was and was told he was 40 minutes out of it. Our United pilot also asked where it was and was told he was 10 minutes from it. Our pilot comes on and informs the first class passengers to please finish their meal as soon as possible because possible turbulence was expected and for the rest of us cattle to keep our seat belts on.
As you can imagine this put me seatmate into fits of moaning. I ignored her. I was amused when 12 minutes later, another North West pilot complained of turbulence and asked to be redirected out of it because it was severe, and our pilot said to the tower, "Where is this turbulence, it is clear sailing up here and very smooth." And it was. We never did find the turbulence.
However, when we began our descent the pilot came on and nonchalantly told us the weather was rainy, the clouds heavy and landing would be a bit on the bumpy side. Well, you'd have thought he said we were coming in for a crash landing because me seatmate started whining like something was terribly wrong. She was looking out the window and moaning and I knew I was supposed to react. I did not. I could hear the tower and everything was going grandly. We touched down and you'd think someone hit her with a red hot poker. She was animated by this time, and I had me eyes squeezed shut to blot it out, but I could feel her moving around. We landed and she grabbed me upper arm and said, "My goodness that was bad wasn't it?"
I informed Mrs. Seasoned Flyer that I had been listening the whole of the way to the tower and we were fine all the way. Begorrah me, if her mouth didn't shut with a bang. She had nothing to say until we were stopped at the gate waiting for the no seat belt sign to come on. She started on about the engines on fire and yadda, yadda, yadda. I could not wait to be away from her. I was glad me travels were done.
People like that, well I can understand the terror. But to impose it on the rest of us is unfair. We read about those things, so we are aware they happen. Don't fly if that is how you will react. Find another method of transportation. With two feet firmly planted upon the holy ground of Boston, HONEY, I'M HOME!
Gabe
I was flying United to Chicago's O'Hare Airport. I didn't have to wait long to board and the plane started to fill. I was sitting by the exit in front of the wing and each passing passenger seemed to get larger as they filed by. I heard America is fat, but I had no idea just how fat. Now remember I come from a country of skinny alcoholics, so I have me cross to bear too. Anyway, I be talking one passenger in two seats fat. Over 250 to 300 lbs. I had one seat next to me and I was thinking, Oh God, what if someone that huge sits next to skinny me? It'll be an uncomfortable flight for sure. Mind you, I was sitting by the exit and there was not a lot of leg room or seat room for that matter.
Now I don't have anything against fat people really. I be just not used to seeing so many in one place. But I do not like being cramped into an airplane like a sardine and then having no room because the McDonald's eating person next to me has supersized every meal. I lucked out and a young Asian girl sat next to me. As we were all seated and waiting for the plane to begin to taxi for takeoff, the stewardess came over and said to us and the people on the other side of the aisle, if we can't help in an emergency she will have to find someone who can and reseat us.
I was like, WHAT? What is going to happen? I've never sat by an emergency exit and didn't know this was standard procedure. She went into detail about what to do if there was an accident and how to open the doors, get chute slides operational, etc. The instruction on how to open the door was straightforward and I thought to meself that at least I'd know the way out. Of course, I was wondering if I said I couldn't do this emergency stuff if she could find someone in first class willing to trade seats, but I let that go because I knew that wouldn't happen.
There I be content with me new found knowledge, headphones on listening to music as I waited for takeoff. I started flipping up the stations looking for something that would entertain me and ended up on channel 9 - Interflight PA and Tower Transmission Station. The pilot was talking to the tower as I relaxed back, closed me eyes, listening.
It didn't take long for me plane to get permission to taxi out to the tarp and even less long to begin takeoff. We started up quickly and I noticed something strange, we were running out of runway. The thought crossed me mind we might not get off the ground when suddenly we started to lift, only the lift was heavy we were not ascending very much and I wondered what we might fly into since we weren't going up. Yes, Linda, I could envision us flying slightly above the cars on the highway, clipping telephone and light polls as we went. Suddenly, channel 9 went off air. Not a good sign in me estimation. Labouriously, we began a slow climb, and channel 9 came sputtering back on.
I heard the tower telling the pilot that he needed to turn left for approach. Approach? That meant we were landing. The pilot responded acknowledging he was turning left and asked for an altitude to level out on. He got 11,000 feet. He said he was at 10 and couldn't get any further. Begorrah me! I knew what was going on, we were in trouble. Either the powers that be forgot to turn the transmission off for the passengers, or they thought we were too dumb to understand airplane code. I have been on flights when this has happened before, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together.
Somehow we reached 11,000 feet and suddenly we had a lift to 12, 14, 20. The pilot asked the tower if he could proceed with destination at his discretion. He was given the go-ahead. I gulped. He asked for an altitude, the tower came back with 30 and a top of 35,000 feet if he could manage it. MANAGE IT? Jesus, Mary and Joseph, if he could manage it? What do you mean if he can MANAGE IT? He somehow did get us up there within 30 minutes. Not one minute, not five, no it took 30 minutes to reach 35,000 feet.
The approach was cancelled, we were on our way. I took the headphones off and studied the exit doors closely. The man across the aisle said to his wife, "I thought for sure we were going to stall out." Oi!
We never got any higher than 35,000 (he was asked to go 37,000 to avoid another plane and could not do it, me heart was in me throat as the tower scrambled to get the other pilot out of our path.
The landing was one hell of a bumpy descent. We would drop 5,000 feet at a time. I don't mean easy drift down, I mean drop and your stomach comes up into your throat with the force. We did this all the way down. The cabin was quiet, passengers white-knuckled, and everyone looked scared. The worst was the flight attendant across from me wringing her hands and looking frightened to death.
We landed and that was bump, bump, bump, big bump, and finally came to the gate as the pilot came on and said, "Any passengers going on to Charlotte, should make other connections and pick up their baggage because this plane is not going on."
I was going to Logan, so I didn't need to know this, but all the same, I could have kissed the ground once off that plane. Only my plane adventures weren't over.
I found me connecting flight and within 15 minutes was sitting once again by an exit. Me seatmate was a German woman who was married to an American. She was chatty and told me how she flies regularly from America to Gustaad to see family and this was her third week of air travel. I said nothing about me flight from Denver, I said practically nothing because she chatted up a storm. Finally, as we were beginning to taxi out to the runway, she said to me, "I was on a flight last year where the engines caught fire and we had an emergency landing. It wouldn't have been so bad but people were screaming. The poor flight attendants were doing their best to calm people, but I was calm. I was sitting at an exit like this and I opened the door once we landed and pushed the button for the chute. You would be amazed at how many panicked passengers injured themselves going down the chute."
I didn't want to hear that. I just got off a bum plane ride and didn't need to know about engines catching fire, panicked passengers, and chutes activated for sliding. Begorrah me I tell you, I could have hit her with me shillelagh if I had one. I put the headphones on, switched to channel 9 and listened to the tower. Takeoff began and she started this whining sound, like, "Oh, oh ohhh." Takeoff was fine, with no lag this time, altitude was reached and we were actually 15 minutes ahead of schedule by the time we landed. I kicked back, closed me eyes and feigned sleep to shut me seatmate up as soon as we were airborne.
Now over channel 9 came a North West Airline pilot asking the Cleveland tower for permission to move out of what he described as "extreme turbulence" and he was told to go 100 miles east and he'd be away from it. A Delta pilot asked the tower where the turbulence was and was told he was 40 minutes out of it. Our United pilot also asked where it was and was told he was 10 minutes from it. Our pilot comes on and informs the first class passengers to please finish their meal as soon as possible because possible turbulence was expected and for the rest of us cattle to keep our seat belts on.
As you can imagine this put me seatmate into fits of moaning. I ignored her. I was amused when 12 minutes later, another North West pilot complained of turbulence and asked to be redirected out of it because it was severe, and our pilot said to the tower, "Where is this turbulence, it is clear sailing up here and very smooth." And it was. We never did find the turbulence.
However, when we began our descent the pilot came on and nonchalantly told us the weather was rainy, the clouds heavy and landing would be a bit on the bumpy side. Well, you'd have thought he said we were coming in for a crash landing because me seatmate started whining like something was terribly wrong. She was looking out the window and moaning and I knew I was supposed to react. I did not. I could hear the tower and everything was going grandly. We touched down and you'd think someone hit her with a red hot poker. She was animated by this time, and I had me eyes squeezed shut to blot it out, but I could feel her moving around. We landed and she grabbed me upper arm and said, "My goodness that was bad wasn't it?"
I informed Mrs. Seasoned Flyer that I had been listening the whole of the way to the tower and we were fine all the way. Begorrah me, if her mouth didn't shut with a bang. She had nothing to say until we were stopped at the gate waiting for the no seat belt sign to come on. She started on about the engines on fire and yadda, yadda, yadda. I could not wait to be away from her. I was glad me travels were done.
People like that, well I can understand the terror. But to impose it on the rest of us is unfair. We read about those things, so we are aware they happen. Don't fly if that is how you will react. Find another method of transportation. With two feet firmly planted upon the holy ground of Boston, HONEY, I'M HOME!
Gabe
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