Archive | Travel RSS feed for this section

How I took my mind off dying…

22 Feb

If you read my most recent post, you know that I feel I tempted fate on my last flight. Not only did I pass up a lucky penny from the bathroom floor, but I also heard the pilot wreak sweet havoc on the airplane’s bathroom before departing. Those two factors had me doubly convinced I would meet a fiery death somewhere between Boston and DC.

So what did I do? Did I start singing hymns and ask for an “amen?” No.

I consulted the emergency card in the seatback pocket in front of me. And no, not to familiarize myself with the evacuation procedures of that particular aircraft. What do you think I am? Optimistic?

No. I’m Sarcastic. So I looked at it for the humor.

And here’s what took my mind off dying…

OK. So first… Sorry, but if we’re crashing, who is going to have this much time to fasten a life vest on their child. This looks more complicated than making an origami swan with tinfoil and step-by-step directions.

Also? Completely unrealistic illustration. That baby would not be sitting still. Should’ve added some motion lines around the legs and arms, because I’m pretty sure: babies in crash mode are throwing a tantrum. And to that point – its face should be red.

Meanwhile, my friend Dorkahontus has a great observation: “The baby in panel three is about to host a dance party… Can anyone say, ‘Raise the roof?'”

Finally? In panel 6, that lightbulb makes it look like the baby is having an idea. Bet I know what it is: “Mom! WTF! I can’t believe you put me on that deathtrap.” Or maybe it’s, “Ah. When I pee in this diaper the water is warm for a minute.”

So a few thoughts on this one. First – You had me at “Do not use.” The additional, “No Use” seems unnecessarily insulting. If you’re going to write it twice, why not add, “Stupid!” at the end of it? Second, while I’m glad people can’t use lighters and female transformers are forbidden, I am a bit bummed. Why can’t I use my remote control dune buggy? When I packed, that was my plan for in-flight entertainment. Assholes.

Dear Illustrator: I hope you didn’t model this one on your own child. If so? I think you might want to have him tested for some odd aging disease because he simply looks like a little adult. And oddly flat. Perhaps you used Flat Stanley as a model? Or maybe the airline wanted you to show that oxygen masks are available to inflate passengers? I bet that’s it! Sorry to insult you.

What a relief! This plane used its landing gear in an emergency. And there are no signs of burning rubble in the wake of its crash landing. Even the woman disembarking looks very calm and put together – coiffed in a way that does Mad Men proud. In fact, the only sign that anything is amiss is the fact that there’s a frat boy sprinting away from the plane.

Which, now that I think of it, is probably about how it would all play out.

Tags: , , ,

Superstitions + Social Media = Pilots As Magic 8-Balls

19 Feb

Friday I flew back to DC from Boston. When I booked my flight, I somehow overlooked that it was a commuter plane. As someone who hates flying on a good day, the news that I’m about to fly on a plane with fewer than 100 passengers is not exactly comforting. (In case my logic is thwarting you: it seems like most crashes are smaller planes.)

It only seemed *this* small.

So I didn’t have a great feeling when – as I boarded – the gate agent was checking all rollerboard bags. “Full flight?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, the overhead’s just not large enough.” Gah.

At that moment, I thought back to the quick pit stop I’d just made in the Ladies’ Room in the airport. As I dried my hands, I looked down and saw a penny – face-up – on the floor of the bathroom. I’d laughed and passed it up, thinking the universe had just unwittingly forced me to define the precise limit of my superstition.

But stepping on the small plane, I kicked myself for not claiming the penny. As I suspected, it was a fairly small plane: there were two seats to the left of the aisle, one to the right, and no first class section. And my seat was all the way in the back, butting up to the bathroom.

As if I weren’t already feeling like the omens were pointing to “do not fly” –  just before we pushed back from the gate, the pilot came walking back and ducked into the bathroom. I’m assuming he had a bad meal or was battling some kind of bug, because the noises on the other side of that folding door were monstrous.

I decided to crowd-source a bit of reassurance, so I quickly posted the following status to Facebook: Pilot just took a pre-departure dump. I know because I’m seated right next to the bathroom. Not sure if this inspires confidence or not. Discuss?

And discuss, they did. These responses are why Facebook (and my friends) are awesome:

“Vote of no confidence because it shows he did not plan ahead and likes to do things at the last minute.”

“Better now than 10,000 feet in the air.”

“I  disagree. This is clearly a man who handles problems head-on, and is not afraid to make the tough decisions. I respect his moxie.”

“How do you know it was a dump? You didn’t go in with him and I’m assuming he didn’t announce it on his exit from the bathroom. Let’s discuss your rush to judge people instead of this man’s bowel habits.”

“I’m in favor of anything that makes the plane lighter. Safety first.”

“To that point… perhaps they needed to re-distribute the weight on the plane, like with the luggage.”

“Maybe he ate the fish? You better get someone to land that plane.”

At home that night, Alan and I were discussing my friends’ differing opinions. “You know,” I told him, “I should have just realized it was his fight or flight mechanism kicking in.”

Alan gave me a blank look. “How do you figure?”

“Well,” I explained, “You know how birds poop before they fly to make themselves lighter?”

“Wait,” Alan interrupted me. “That’s not what fight-or-flight is all about. Fight-or-flight means you crap your pants from fear. Not to make yourself lighter.”

I shook my head. “No – that’s the point. You’re scared so your body is trying void everything so you’ll be lighter when you run away.”

Alan smacked his forehead. “I cannot believe you are sitting here trying to convince me that’s what fight-or-flight means.”

“Look, I don’t make the rules,” I told him. “But I do know that my pilot successfully flew a little plane after hitting the toilet. And he did not get in a fight. That’s exactly what it means.”

Alan just stared at me, speechless. Which is how I know I was right.

Tags: , , ,

Sending You a Little Love from Beantown

14 Feb

Image Source: BeMyAnti-Valentine

I’m in Boston for work, which means I’m spending Valentine’s Day away from Alan. That’s fine by me – not because I don’t miss him, but because I tend to believe you shouldn’t just show someone you love them one day a year. So by that standard, Alan does a pretty great job of making every day February 14.

Since I don’t make a big deal out of Valentine’s Day, it was the farthest thing from my mind when I stepped out to grab a coffee this morning. The streets of Boston were desserted, barring a line of cabs idling in front of my hotel.

The last cabbie in line, an older gentleman, was out wiping down his windshield as I walked past. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” he called. “May you get everything you deserve and more!”

I have to admit, it made me smile. Not just because he said it, but also because it reminded me, when it comes to the important stuff: I already have.

So just in case no one has said it to you yet…

Happy Valentine’s Day. May you get everything you deserve and more! 

Tags: , ,

Making friends in confined spaces.

30 Jan

Last week I committed two faux pas while riding the rails from Boston to DC. The first occurred on the Boston to NYC leg. The timing worked out so that I needed to eat dinner on the train, so before sitting down, I went to the Café Car. If you’ve never taken the train, let me assure you: the Café Car on Acela is not like what you see in movies.

NOT the Acela.

There’s no white tablecloth, and definitely no silver. While it’s not fine dining, there are still some decent options, which is how I came to order Legal Seafoods’ Clam Chowder. Since we were departing Boston, it seemed fitting.

That’s about as much thought as I gave it – until I sat down back on the Quiet Car and removed the lid. At which point, the seafood smell of it rose up like a fist and punched me in the face. Yes, I was that person. The one who buys a tuna sandwich and opens it up on a plane right after take-off, ensuring the entire cabin smells like fish.

Horrified, I channeled my embarrassment back at Amtrak in the form of outrage: Why on Earth would they offer this on their menu? This should only be served at establishments with open-air patios! Fortunately, since I was on the Quiet Car, I knew no one would actually confront me, so I just kept my eyes on the bowl so I wouldn’t have to endure any angry glances.

Not wanting to make the same mistake on the NYC to DC leg the next day, I picked up a quesadilla at Penn Station for the ride. Once I was settled into my seat on the train, I began producing the items for my meal: quesadilla, salsa, napkins, soft drink, fork, Purell.

That’s right: Purell. Have I mentioned that I’m slightly OCD? And that I get sick almost every time I travel? Those two factors have combined to make me a religious user of  liquid hand sanitizer. I have a refillable dispenser that looks like a highlighter and sprays the Purell almost like a squirt gun.

So as I tucked into my meal, I pulled out my Purell highlighter, gave it a few pumps and rubbed my hands together. And — nothing. There was no Purell on my hands. I looked at the dispenser to see if it had run dry, and then I realized: the spray hole hadn’t been lined up with my hands.

No. It had sprayed out fine. Just not on my hands. With a sense of dread, I started looking around to see where it might have landed. And that’s when I saw two quarter-sized blobs running down the laptop screen of the man seated next to me. Gah!

Fortunately, he was standing up at the time, placing his coat in the overhead bin, so he hadn’t seen me spray down his MacBook Pro. Hoping to eliminate the evidence, I leaned over with my napkin and started trying to wipe his screen discreetly. About this time, I noticed the man across the aisle scowling at me, clearly thinking I was tampering with a stranger’s laptop. Which, in fairness, I suppose I was.

I gave him my most disarming smile (which, I believe, looks I’m channeling Amelie from the French movie, but actually probably more accurately looks like a baby filling its diaper) and abandoned Operation Wipedown, turning to stare out the window. At just this moment, my seatmate sat back down and began typing.

I continued to face the window, my shoulders shaking as I silently giggled, praying that he wouldn’t ask me why his laptop had a clear schmear across the screen. And I could not stop laughing. To say it tickled my funny bone would be an understatement. I sat there, silently shaking, until I had tears running down my cheeks.

At one point, I thought I had composed myself well enough to apologize, but I turned around saw the schmeary outline of the gel on his screen and just lost it. He gave me an odd look and returned to his work, no doubt wondering what kind of nutjob he was sharing a seat with.

Ultimately, I wasn’t busted. But I can’t exactly say I got away with it. Because I’m pretty sure he was sitting there writing a blog about the freakshow next to him who alternately sprayed Purell and convulsed for the duration of the ride.

Actually, now that I think about it, he probably should’ve thanked me for the material. Or at least for disinfecting his screen. You’re welcome, Amtrak Stranger! Now pay it forward…

Tags: , , , ,

Top 10 Reasons: Rail Travel Rocks

26 Jan
Like the Acela, but cooler.

Like the Acela, but a wee bit slower, and with less leg room. Still better than flying.

Top 10: Reasons Trains Beat Planes in Rochambeau*

  1. Even when someone reclines their seat, I still have an extra foot of arm-room for my laptop.
  2. I don’t have to wait for a flight attendant when I’m thirsty. Two words: Cafe Car.
  3. No seatbelts. Or annoying announcements from the pilot telling you to put them on.
  4. The bathroom is large enough to install a phone and conduct business. Tip: If you board at the originating station, consider locking yourself in the commode and treating it as your private office for the duration of your trip. I think this is – literally – where the term “Squatter’s Rights” comes from.
  5. The Quiet Car: no one can talk, use a cell phone, play music without headphones, etc. While you might think this is awesome because you can work uninterrupted or take a nap, the real reason it rocks is witnessing the enforcement of the rule. If you’ve ever wanted to see an introvert on a power-trip unleash a can of whoop-ass, this is where to sit. For supporting evidence, read this. 
  6. If you’re not in the Quiet Car, the best thing is eavesdropping. Last night I overheard one woman describe the BRAT diet and a guy get quoted $900 for a one-day rental car. I also heard someone offer up their credit card digits (including the security code and expiration date) and wondered how many people actually wrote it down.
  7. No TSA workers to flag me for a random screening. Getting to board without taking my shoes off, pulling out my laptop and removing my coat? Amazing. Not having to limit my liquids to 3 oz in a plastic baggie? Priceless.
  8. No “unplanned landings” caused by obnoxious passengers midair. On Amtrak, if someone becomes unruly, they can just get tossed off the train at the next stop without delaying anyone.
  9. My seat cushion doesn’t double as a life preserver. (BTW: is that not like the most twisted version of “Would You Rather?” Your options: would you rather a) Drown after surviving a plane crash, or b) Float in icy, shark-infested water with a cushion that has absorbed countless farts pressed to your face?)
  10. When the train shakes, I don’t worry that we’re going to fall out of the sky.

*Using my best Cartman voice: If you don’t know what Rochambeau is, then dude, you totally need to watch this clip from SouthPark.

Tags: , , ,

← Older Entries
Newer Entries →