airplanes

May 12, 2009

I’ve spent a lot of time on planes and in airports over the past 48 hours.  This is what I thought about en route…

I’m still fascinated by flight attendants, and I’ve finally made the connection; the very first flight attendants had to be RN’s back in the day.  It must have been sort of glamourous at first, then the nurse’s must have gotten bored because not much action ever really happens during a flight.  My favorite flight attendant this trip was Lance.  He was in his mid-forties with an incredible mustache, and a no-nonsense attitude about him.  He had an amazing voice; deep, smooth and calm.  I silently prayed that it would be him that would announce the emergency instructions if the plane were to crash.  His voice would be the one I would want to hear before I died in a fiery wreckage.  If this career with Delta doesn’t work out for Lance, he could easily switch to being a D.J. at a radio station or even host his own talk show.

A funny thing was announced while we were taxiing on the runway, “If you cannot hear the pilot speaking over the loud speaker or hear a flight attendant talking to you, remove your headphones or ear pieces”.  The woman sitting next to me, gave a nudge and said “Don’t forget to breathe”.  No kidding.  I could go off on that topic about how dumbed down our society has become, but I’d like to stay on track with the ever fascinating airlines.

Remember when you could smoke on planes?  I’d only been on one, and it wasn’t that long ago, 2001 maybe.  Bangkok to Delhi.  Good old, Air India.  While shoveling curry into my mouth that was served by a beautiful woman wearing a sari as her uniform and a bright bindi on her forehead, I squinted through the smokey haze.  The high-pitched Hindi music rattled my brain and quickened my pulse as I tried to make out the lights of the mysterious city below below.  In the air, I was only given a glimpse of the complex world I was about to enter on the sub-continent.

Now, they threaten that “Anyone tampering with, disabling or destroying the smoke detector will be fined”.  I love the idea of someone in the tiny bathroom, having a nicotine fit, frantically trying to ‘destroy’ the smoke detector so they can sneak a puff in.  Every time I take a pee, I stare up and wonder how exactly, I would go about destroying it.  Smashing would probably do the trick, with my first if I was feeling rugged or maybe I would bring a tool in with me.  Somehow submerging it in water seems like a viable option as well.  

I wonder if the fine one would incur, would be immediate or would it be mailed to you?  Would they allow you off the plane or make you pay the $2,200 right then and there….

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night table

October 19, 2008

Brilliant fall day yesterday.  After the sweat dried that I worked up from hiking, I became quite chilled.  With bread baking and a pot of beans on the stove I climbed into the steamy bathtub.  While re-warming my bones I flipped through a trashy girly magazine.  The last page was posed the question  “What is on your night table?”  Celebrities answered this question with replies that sounded more like what they wanted to be on their night table rather than what was really on it.  Nameless books and name-brand mineral water were the common answers.  After my soak I went to my night table and complied this list:

lamp, clock, a cigar box full of condoms, seashell, My Secret History by Paul Theroux, Pecked to Death by Ducks by Tim Cahill (borrowed from a friend almost a year ago), American Journal of Nursing magazines, mugs that were once full of milk, an empty cookie bag, capgun, DVD’s: The Big Sleep w/ Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, Pale Rider w/ Clint Eastwood, a spoon, beer bottle, earrings, empty San Pelligrino and dust.

What’s on your night table?

I listened to a story on public radio a while back about memory.  The researcher said that as humans we are evolving (devolving?) to be unable to remember details like we used to.  With phone numbers stored in our cell phones, and GPS guiding the way, along with many other modern day luxuries we are apparently losing our ‘memory muscle’.  So, this fellow I was listening to went around with a tiny camera strapped to his forehead.  This camera randomly snapped a photo per minute.  At the end of the day he would play through all of them real fast like and this exercise is supposed to help your brain process and remember the day.  I think this is fascinating and would like to get a tiny camera to strap to my head!

 If I had one on this week the following would be the instant replay: dirty dishes gathering dust, pretty lacy dresses over bruised & scraped knees, friends’ couch, cracked windshield, wood, lumber, electric sander, empty refrigerator, Polish men wearing gold chains by the pool, bathroom ceiling, neighbors inflatable above ground pool w/ green water, guy singing on an unstage, a cute smile, sunset out my bedroom window, other peoples pee, latex gloves, bike (is it his?), the concerned worried looks on parents faces when they see their daughter in the E.R., the anesthesiologist w/ a blue mask flirting with me, the nurses in bad printed scrubs being mean to me, the pavement, piles of clothes on the floor, faces from Sterling College that I haven’t seen in 10 years, NCLEX study questions  a) b) c) or d), the blue glow of this damn computer…

On the cover of the NY Times today there is an article about a new design in the gallon milk jug.  This is the first I’ve heard about it and haven’t tried out the new jug myself, but I think it sounds like a great idea.  The new jugs can be stacked on top of one another thus eliminating the need for milk crates.  By eliminating the crates, one can ship 50% more milk in the same square foot of space.  With the ability to ship more milk in the same space, the amount of deliveries is decreased.  So, with the new design we use less resources, create less pollution, and get fresher milk.  

Here’s the kicker; pictured in the article is a woman with pursed lips and an annoyed look on her face.  A homemaker in Ohio, she was interviewed about how the new jug works.  Her response was “I hate it, it spills everywhere!”  To me this is a prime example of how unwilling people are to change or adapt, yet still bitch about the cost of everything!  Come on lady, is it really that hard to pour?  If it is, I think it’s worth a try to master that ever so difficult and important skill of pouring milk!  People get so set in there ways and love to complain.  It drives me absolutely nuts.