Plane Etiquette

Or should it be plain etiquette? Whatever. The collective lack of humanity and decorum from the passengers, the airlines, and the security are enough to make me consider train travel. Oh wait, I live in the US of Ugh, so that train thing is out of the question. And you’d never catch me on a bus, so my choices seem to be flight or foot.

Before I lace up my New Balance Fresh Foams, I’ll at least get this off my chest in the hopes that maybe our Secretary of Transportation is reading this week’s Curmudg. He’s a subscriber, but I also know he’s busy, what with flying and transportating and all.

Who started this blight with flight? Dunno. It might be a chicken-or-egg situation, because everyone involved contributes to the mess. It won’t help to point the finger, since it would no doubt be bitten off, anyway.

But I’ll try to break it into bite-sized pieces. Here goes:

The Passengers:
To that slug I witnessed a while back who clipped his fingernails before takeoff: are your toenails next? You just put the “you” in ewww. Maybe floss with the inflight magazine, while you’re at it. Judging by the cover, it looks like someone already used it as a hand towel. Personal hygiene is just that—personal. Keep it at home, or keep yourself there, please.

And the wanna be surfer dude who shuffled by me in the aisle wearing flip-flops? Yes, I know you’re going to the beach. But right now you’re going to Row 35. Are you going to blow up your fun SpongeBob floatie?? Maybe lather up with sunscreen? You’re going to be 30,000 feet closer to the sun, so I guess it makes sense.

The business buds sitting five rows in front of me—do you remember in kindergarten the term “inside voices?” I know more about your company now than I care to, and what you said about Rosie in accounting qualifies as harassment. No worries, your secret is safe with me.

The Airlines:
The airline industry was deregulated in 1978. The results have been a mixed bag.

In the short run, prices came tumbling down, new carriers were founded, and the frenetic fingers of capitalism were unleashed.

The biggest finger was saved for passengers. Increased competition came with complex fare structures, neatly couched as “reward programs.” This was coupled with a race to the bottom—to see who could offer the lowest fares. Then a few economic glitches (mostly recessions) caused some airlines to go out of business and be taken over by the larger carriers.

Which brings us to…United Airlines*, whose motto is “We’re United, and we don’t give a rat’s ass” or “We’re United…try getting there some other way.” I can never remember which.

Flying doesn’t have to be this way. Before I offer a few modest suggestions for improving modern flight, let me tell you about the best flight I ever took.

Years ago, I flew the Concorde—from JFK in New York to Heathrow in London. Something I had to do ASAP for Men’s Wearhouse (MW), although I have no memory of what the hurry was about. I do have a memory of the plane and the service on British Airways. Both were spectacular. The plane had one aisle, two seats on each side, and one class of service. It flew at an altitude high enough so you could see the curvature of the earth from the cockpit. (This was pre-9/11—back then you could walk into the cockpit and chat with the pilots.)

The service harkened back to the halcyon days of air travel–when Pan Am ruled the skies. A crisp white tablecloth on my tray, real silverware, and a clean napkin. Real food choices, not something that looks like it came out of both ends of my dog Peasley when she got into the Cheetos.

Unfortunately, the plane was never profitable, and after an Air France crash in 2000, the fleet was grounded for good. Kinda like Men’s Wearhouse (MW). The company’s profitability began teetering after buying Joseph A. Banks in 2014. Years later, Covid grounded the company for good, and they went into bankruptcy. They were refinanced by private equity soon after.

Supersonic travel is making a comeback. Plans for MW going public again are, as well. While I doubt that they’re connected, I’m very happy for both.

My extensive and exhaustive career at MW renders me an expert in aviation; therefore, I have several suggestions for United, because I don’t think they’ve maximized ways to drag us all down to their bottom…

…line, that is.

Closer to the Heavens Seating. In economy, rather than push the seats even closer together, offer seating on the backs of passengers 21 and over. With weight restrictions, of course, and not in the exit aisles.

Pass the Peanuts Snacks. Open up a large bag of salted nuts, and give them to the person in the frontmost coach window seat. He takes a few, and passes them to the right. Are you in the last row? That’s your problem for not choosing a seat before the flight. But think of it this way—by the time the nuts get to you, they probably won’t be salted.

I Can Wait Pricing. If you promise not to use the restroom during your flight, you’ll get a $5.95 credit toward your next flight on United. Domestic travel only.

Germs Ahoy! Small packaged wet wipes are expensive! Instead of giving one to each passenger, hang a very large one on the right side of the entry door of the plane and let everyone use it on their way in.

Drop-Seat Seats. This would require quite a bit of redesign, but the savings would be enormous. You know how the second the seatbelt sign is turned off, everyone jumps up, grabs their overhead bags, and pushes toward the front of the plane? How about this: Once the sign turns off, every seat drops downward, and everyone lands on the tarmac a few feet below. Exactly two minutes later, the bags follow. Sprain your ankle from the fall? Tough noogies. Survival of the fittest. The “‘Merican” way.

Think of the savings! First, the gateways—no need for them, or their operators. They’re usually off somewhere having a pop when the plane gets to the gate anyway. And bag handlers for flights just landing? No longer needed.

Security:
Yes, I know you exist for our safety, but could you do it with less of a scowl? Maybe it’s the constant reminders to empty water bottles. Maybe it’s the power of the spiffy uniform and badge.

You’d think knowing who is flying commando-style would be enough to put a smile on your face.

Oh, and to the guy who swiped the small digital camera out of my suitcase: Your job is to protect passengers—not an invitation to treat my luggage like an “all-you-can-pilfer” buffet. Yes, I know I was an idiot for placing it right on top for you to see, but I was in a rush when I left the house. Anyway, if I give you my email address, can you at least send me the pictures? There were some cute ones of the family I’d sure like.

Airplane travel and its funlessness is a microcosm of what’s happening in the country. People glued to their devices, lots of anger, far too little know-how. I wonder how many people know that the “United song” was written by the late composer and pianist George Gershwin? It’s called “Rhapsody in Blue,” and George no doubt rolls over in his grave every time United uses his beautiful music.

Plans to walk to my next destination remain on hold pending acceptance of the above business tips for the airlines. Until then, I’ll keep flying, packing my patience along with my passport, and hoping for the best.

After all, if both supersonic travel and Men’s Wearhouse—each once bastions of great customer service—can make a comeback, don’t you think civility in the air can, as well?

*And by United, I mean all domestic airlines. If you think Alaskiaan (Hawaiian+Alaska) is any better, I dare you to test that theory.

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