Category: Travels

A New Bag

Here’s an unsolicited product testimonial.

I bought a new laptop bag at the end of April. It was about time. I go through laptop bags about every five years. The one I was using had a shoulder strap. I use a large HP laptop. Because it doesn’t have a long battery charge, I carry a power brick and cords with me. I walk one to three miles before and after my writing sessions. Carrying that weight had become comfortable. It was especially so in the summer’s smoky heat, when temperatures popped into the high nineties to over a hundred, and the valley trapped wildfire smoke that drifted down from the mountains.

Besides that, my laptop bag had worn through in a few places. I’d paid fifty dollars for the leather and vinyl creation, more than twice what I’d paid for the fabric bag it replaced.

I’d decided that I needed a back pack variation. I found an Eagle Creek convertible laptop backpack that was large enough for my HP. This one was available for one hundred fifty-nine dollars, over three times what I’d paid for the other one. But, I use it every day, and I needed a more comfortable way to transport my laptop. So I pried open the wallet and put out the cash.

I’m pleased that I did. I’ve used it for a month and it’s much easier to strap that thing onto my back and hike around town. It feels surprisingly light.

I also have a large, wheeled laptop bag that I employ for flying. I decided I’d use the new Eagle Creek bag for my travels to see how it worked.

Again, I was pleased that I did. The Eagle Creek bag has multiple zipped compartments that helped me organize my books, boarding passes, gum, glasses, etc., along with the laptop and its accessories. The new bag fit under the airline seat with ease. It was small enough that I could pull it out from under the seat and put it up against the edge of my seat and have the legroom available during the flight.

All in all, a worthwhile purchase. It looks sturdy and durable. I’ll see if it lasts five years.

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How

Just before his grandmother died, she told him stories about her grandmother. Her grandmother had gone across America in a covered wagon, traveling from the Appalachian Mountains to Seattle. It’d been a long and bumpy journey. She didn’t remember how long it took. She didn’t like it there, so she took the train back. It was hot. Black smoke and cinders filled the car whenever they opened the windows for a breeze, so they kept the windows closed and dripped with sweat.

His father heard the story and and remembered his father telling him about driving a Chevy station wagon across the United States. They’d started in Indiana, where it was raining, and drove across the flat plains of corn to the towering Rocky Mountains and up them, and down into California. It took five days to reach San Francisco. They stayed in motels every night. There was a swimming pool at one. Gas was less than two dollars a gallon.

His father’s brother remembered flying from San Francisco to Washington, and how it took almost a day to get there. He remembered looking out the window and watching the ground roll past as the engines roared and the plane climbed into the sky. He remembered the clunk of the wheels going up into the aircraft’s belly, and the change in the engines’ whine, and the wisps of clouds slipping past the windows. They’d had to be at the airport a few hours early, and then they stood in line to check their bags, and stood in lines to go through security, and stood in line to get on the plane, and stood in line to get off and get their bags.

He’d asked each of them, what’d you do when you traveled like that? Well, they said, we sang, and ate, and talked, played games, read books, watched television, listened to music, slept, looked at the scenery, and met people.

He remembered all these things in the time it took him to teleport from his home to the teleport center and out the other end at the moon colony. His last thought before he glanced out at Earth and went into his meeting was, what he would tell his children in his old age, and how they would be doing what he was doing now?

 

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Baby Steps

“I’ve seen some things, man.”

Recognize that line? Anyway, this is about what I saw while traveling through airports during the last few days.

  • Breast-feeding rooms. I need so many hands to address this, and its pros and cons. Good that moms are given a space for privacy, but are so many people shocked, outraged, embarrassed, repulsed, disgusted, disturbed, et cetera, by a woman breast-feeding her child?
  • Service animals relief area. There is a need for this. Nice the animals are being taken care of.
  • Police carts. These appear to be the courtesy carts used in airports to give people a lift between gates, but with police markings and lights.
  • Fewer designated smoking areas. I’m amazed people still smoke, but I still drink, and both habits can have adverse impacts on your body. So does living, though.
  • More and more drinking, eating, and shopping areas. These are a good thing, because air travel is a gritty gamble. You can have a ticket, but not a seat, and if you don’t have a seat, you’re not on a plane. Even with a seat and ticket, you might not be going anywhere because weather is the controlling authority. The biggest issue with these is that when people really need them, after all the flights are delayed and canceled, and nothing can be done for you to get to your next destination, they start shutting down for the night, leaving passengers in the terminals restless, hungry, and thirsty. Basically, we become abandoned by capitalism, because, you know, convenience is expensive.
  • By the way, eating in an airport is not a cheap affair.  Beer at one place was six dollars, and eight at another. Margaritas were eleven at the latter. Healthier options are emerging, at least.
  • More Internet options on aircraft and airports. I encountered more airports offering free services. They’re not secure, so they’re a risk. Protect thyself. Aircraft are also offering more inflight Internet services. Some entertainment is free through these aircraft nets (airnets?), but connecting to the greater web will cost you. The prices are reasonable.
  • More people are trying to take as many bags as possible onto aircraft to avoid paying to check bags. You should see the size of some of these. Yes, they’re checking them planeside in many cases, but more often, they’re being dragged onto the flights and shoved into overhead bins. I kept hearing the words, “We’re oversold,” or, “We’re a full flight,” or, “If you can, store your bags under the seat in front of you because there’s no room left in the overhead bins.” That last is ideal, as we have so much leg room to sacrifice to begin.

How about you? Notice any trends in your air travels?

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Salazin – Six

Salazin didn’t let me ponder his comment, “And maybe further.”

That was probably good, because I was about to ask him where he thought his ship could go. The Moon? Mars?

Winking again, Salazin said, “I have prepared a model for you. Just a concept.”

He gestured toward the door. As it opened, Salazin said, “Behold the Nautilaus.”

As Salazin said, “I had this prepared to scale to help you visual it,” a young woman led in a cart. What looked like an upside-down ship was on it. Two young men pushed and guided the cart from either side. The upside-down ship’s bottom was glossy black. The top was charcoal gray. A red band divided the top and bottom. Nautilaus was in script in that band.

Salazin said, “I know that you’re a visual person but that you struggle to imagine things. I hope this helps you.”

After parking the cart, the three people left. When the door closed, Salazin said, “What do you think, Dylan? Is it not amazing?”

I’d been wondering what I thought. “It doesn’t look inviting,” I said. “It looks sinister.”

I was thinking that his model looked ten feet long and half a foot wide. Before Salazin could reply, I said, “How tall would this thing be?”

“Twenty-four stories.”

“Twenty-four stories?” I grappled again with his planned vehicle’s size. “Ten miles long, a half mile wide, and twenty-four stories high?”

“No, from the red band,” Salazin said. “Sorry, it’s twenty-four stories from the red band. It would be a total of twenty-seven stories tall, but three of those stories are below the ground level.”

“Jesus,” I said.

Salazin was walking and talking, and pointing what I took to be a remote. Tuning out of my bewilderment to his words, I caught, “The top is dark now so that I can have the pleasure of revealing the interior to you.”

The gray top turned lighter, growing translucent and then transparent. When that happened, it displayed a delicate framework on the upper part. It also displayed rolling green hills, a blue lake or sea, and multiple roadways, paths, forests, fields, and buildings. Some of the buildings were clustered like small villages. I saw a golf course, swimming pools, a needle-like building, like Seattle’s Space Needle, and what looked like vineyards, orchards, a ranch with horses and cows….

There was so much to see and assimilate, I felt like my mind was fusing into numbness. Without realizing it, I’d stood and walked over to the model.

Ten miles long, twenty plus stories high, and half a mile wide.

I didn’t see anything that looked like it could be an engine.

I saw Salazin slip to a stop beside me. I could see his face. A grin split it.

“What do you think?” he said.

“I think you’re crazy,” I said.

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United Airlines Lottery

United Airlines put me on a roller coaster this week. First, they announced plans to stop giving employees bonuses. They would instead use a lottery to reward them.

I thought it was a great idea. I always feel like it’s a lottery flying with United. Yes, I have a ticket for the flight, but do I have a seat? Will I get on a plane? And will it be on the day that I’m scheduled to be flying? Let’s start a betting pool!

The betting pools always made those of us waiting in the gate area feel better. Even though there was a chance we wouldn’t make the flight (or the flight wouldn’t go today), at least there was a small chance that we might win. It was a little rain of sunshine on a bitter day traveling on United Airlines.

I thought having employees rewarded by lottery would help employees and passengers bond. Now employees would feel how we passengers feel when we wait to see if we’re going to fly on the flight that we bought a ticket for.

I don’t think the executives were going to participate in the lottery. I felt sorry for them. It seemed mean of United to exclude them. I accuse United of being executivists, treating executives differently just because they’re executives. It seems like companies will discriminate about anything these days.

But then, United announced they were not going to do the lottery. Say whaaat? Apparently, the employees weren’t as excited about the bonus lottery as I was.

That surprised the president of United Airlines, Scott Kirby (which admittedly sounds like a movie star’s name in the 1940s). Kirby said, “Our intention was to introduce a better, more exciting program, but we misjudged how these changes would be received by many of you.”

I admit, I paused when I read that. The company president was surprised that people weren’t happy that they weren’t going to receive the bonus money that they were probably counting upon. I think that gives us a little more insight into why United sucks more each year (hell, each month) as an airline. It explains why they’re surprised when passengers are pissed about paying extra for the blankets, food, and a seat that isn’t out on the wing.

Is it surprising that United will start selling priority boarding for coach passengers? I believe they’ll next be selling priority exiting, too. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that they’re going to start charging for the seats in the crowded waiting areas around the gate. “I’m sorry, sir, can I see your ticket for that seat? You can’t sit there if you don’t have a ticket. Would you like to buy a ticket? Just five dollars per hour. What’s your flight number? Oh, you’ll need about six hours, then.”

Then, like all of United’s twisted, greedy thinking, they’ll oversell the tickets for the seats in the waiting area. “Sorry, just because you have a ticket, it doesn’t mean that you have a seat.”

I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that United Airlines employees must buy desk time at work.

United Airlines: “Fly with us. It’s a lottery.”

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Just Made It

You ever go to a restaurant, and find it quiet and with few customers, and then sit and order, and witness a sudden influx of people entering the restaurant and filling up the chairs, the noise level rising with their conversation and laughter?

Or maybe you reach the cashier in a store to make your purchases, and have no line, and then long lines form at all the registers?

These situations cause us to say, “Wow, we timed that right. We beat the rush.”

Traveling, we made it back home on Sunday. The weather served plunging temperatures and several inches of snow that night. “We made it home just in time.”

That thought, that somehow, you beat the crowds, the odds, the norms, the system, by just a little, fires a warm glow of satisfaction. It’s a little less satisfying when you fly home and see someone, and then they die the next day. Sure, there’s still some solace as we tell ourselves, “At least we saw them one more time before they died,” but the glow isn’t as warm nor satisfying.

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The Kiss Good-bye

Have you ever been sitting in your seat on an aircraft and drop something on the floor between your seat and the one in front of you? Man, the moves to pick it up would try a contortionist’s skills. If they ever tell me that we’re going down and I’d better bend over and kiss my ass good-bye, I’d need to decline. No way that I can bend over and kiss my ass in one of their seats. Nope, not going to happen. Somebody else will need to kiss it good-bye.

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The Ticket Dream

This was an ironic, humorous dream for me.

I was in a huge airport terminal. It was day. I’d been traveling all over, mostly alone, as was my case during my careers. Now I was going home. But where was home? How was I getting there? I didn’t know either of these answers.

As others left, I searched through my baggage to figure out where I was supposed to be going. While I was doing this, a female airline employee walked up and talked to different people. I prepared to approach her to ask for help. But as I did, she turned and pointed to me. “You’re going on the eleven nineteen,” she said.

I was impressed that she knew that, and thankful. After she said it, I discovered a ticket in my baggage. The ticket was one of those antiquated styles, with a card back and several tissue-thin layers separated with carbon paper. Pleased and relieved, I had my ticket. I just had to wait for my flight.

It was apparently going to be a long wait. Flights were called; people departed, and I remained. I kept losing my ticket in my paperwork. Back in paper days, I would create a folder for my travel. It would have my boarding passes, tickets, baggage claims, agendas, orders (when I was military), et cetera. As others left, I became anxious. To relieve my anxiety, I’d check my ticket. Each time I pulled out my folder to consult my ticket, the ticket was gone. Then I’d go through a mad hunt, emptying my bags and searching for my ticket. Each time, though, I wouldn’t find it, until – surprise! – I found it in my paperwork.

I moved closer to the customer service desk where the woman worked. At one point, she saw me, pointed, and said, “You’re going on the eleven nineteen. Your flight is soon.”

My wife arrived, surprising me. “How did you get here?” I said.

She was smiling. “My boyfriend drove me.” Her expression told me she was joking.

Tired, I wasn’t in a joking mood. “Well, did you boyfriend give you a way to get home? I’m on the eleven nineteen. My flight is soon.”

She held up a ticket. “I know. I’m on it.”

“How’d you do that? The flight was full.”

She didn’t say. At this point, I slipped into enough consciousness that I knew this was a dream. It reminded me a lot of some of my travels, but the part that struck me as ironic and humorous was that my ticket kept getting lost in my paperwork. I thought, that’s pretty funny for a writer.

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The Overlooked Opportunity

There are types and tricks to sleeping in an airport. My wife and I know this, having spent many nights stuck in an airport.

Airlines usually do offer hotel vouchers when your flight is cancelled. But the song and dance is a familiar show: it’s midnight to two or three in the morning. They tell you that they have you on the first flight out, which will be six or seven in the morning. By the time you leave for the hotel, get checked in, and arrive in your room, your chance for sleeping is limited to a few hours before you need to get up and come back to the airport, because you need to process through security and get to the gate an hour before the boarding time.

So, when sleeping in an airport, don’t just settle for a chair. Walk around and look around. Many airports have conversation lounges or pits. You want to be able to stretch out.

Which leads me to the overlooked opportunity. Airports should be building sleeping lounges. These need not be fancy, just spaces where you can rent a daybed or cot and sack out for a few hours. You’ll rent it, of course. It’s not practical for airports to give things away for free. They get nothing for free. Taxpayers, businesses, airlines, and customers must tote the bill for everything in an airport. Why should you get anything for free?

Yes, there would be some administrative, bureaucratic, security, and cleaning maintenance overhead. Yes, no doubt, but we’d be willing to accept quite a bit, we exhausted, worn out, stranded travelers. Look what we’re already enduring, how we curl up in corners on the floor, or hunker like twisted metal hangers in chairs. Don’t you think we’d pony up a little money to stretch our backs, close our eyes and sigh into sleep?

By having these temporary beds available, airlines could look like heroes. They’d be off the hook for offering hotel vouchers. Instead, they could give you a bed voucher, so you should shuffle off for a sweet nappy nap before trudging back over and resuming your place in the queues.

You know the opportunity is here. We need them now. Walk through airports at night and count the sleeping denizens. Don’t tell me the need doesn’t exist. That need will only get worse in the coming years. The prices for tickets will climb. The airlines aren’t going to suddenly awaken to their ways and stop overbooking. No, they’re addicted to that profit model, and profit must be had. And aircraft break. We need a space to shovel these people so they stretch out when they’re left without the chance to leave.

Come on, some airport out there must step up and make it happen. The people are counting on you.

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