What happened to the glamour?
30,000 Feet Over Ohio
I'm not old enough to remember this, but I'm told that there was a time when travel--and especially air travel--was glamorous, exclusive, and maybe just maybe even fun.
The big news this week is that they're providing metal knives with the first-class meals. Fortunately, I got an upgrade. My VP of Business Development is stuck in coach, where they're now charging $5 for airline food.
I took pity on him, and snuck my bagel to him. I figure I might keep the metal knife as a souvenir. Not that the knife is useful or anything. It reminds me of those safety scissors you give small kids, the ones which are so dull that even a determined 4-year-old can't hurt himself.
Of course, we have a new form of in-flight entertainment now. It's a game I call "Spot The Air Marshal." Since this is a flight from LaGuardia, there's almost certainly one on board. Can I spot him (or her)?
I've heard that they usually put air marshals in first class, so that narrows things down a bit, though I can't rule out coach. Are they allowed to sleep on the flight? I can't think that a sleeping law enforcement officer would do much good. This flight departed at 6:20 AM, so there are a lot of very sleepy people on board.
So, I'm looking for someone who is wide awake during the whole flight, probably seated in first class, and doesn't quite fit the mold of the usual business traveler.
After getting up to go to the lav, I walk back to chat with my VP of Business Development again. Everyone--and I mean everyone--in coach is asleep. No air marshal there. But there were two people in the first row of first class who were eyeing me as I walked to the back of the plane.
One, the attractive blonde woman in 1-A, falls asleep shortly after I return to my seat. Rule her out.
The other is a burly young man in 1-C with a shaved head who has been studiously reading the in-flight magazine. That in itself is unnatural: no normal traveler actually reads those. He's also got a small stack of printouts--which look suspiciously like the ones they give the flight crew before departure--which he occasionally takes out of his pocket and studies.
The other tip-off is the way he's dressed. He looks like someone pretending to be a businessman or Wall Street type, but who doesn't quite have it down. He's wearing a white dress shirt and expensive-looking tie, but the shirt doesn't quite seem comfortable. I've been a suit long enough to know that after a short while, the costume becomes the man, a uniform proclaiming your membership and rank in the world of money.
Also, the shoes aren't quite right--too comfortable, not shiny enough--and he's wearing a three-inch silver crucifix on a chain around his neck. Expensive watches, valuable rings, these I've seen on suits, but never the giant crucifix accessorizing the expensive tie.
I think we have a winner.
That game is now over. Let's see, one hour to go. The flight attendant asks if I want more coffee. I've already had three cups. Any more coffee and I won't need the airplane to cruise at 30,000 feet. I settle for diet Pepsi instead.
There was a time when gentlemen wore their best suits and ladies their finest evening gowns for a plane trip.
There was even a time when those at the peak of fashion and glamour were called the Jet Set.
Now, when traveling first class means getting barely enough room to be comfortable and barely enough food to be fed (and coach means neither), let's remember with some nostalgia a time when the journey was more than just the way to the destination.