Posted on

My Favorite Things: Coming ‘Write’ Up

A United Airlines 737 in snowy Chicago

There are so many components that go into a flight and there are many chances for things to go wonky. Between catering, passenger issues, weather, medical events, and mechanical issues, it’s nearly rare when nothing goes wrong.
There are many reports in aviation. Reports are vital for aircraft maintenance, so any time there is an issue on board that involves the mechanics, we must report them. We call them write ups and they can be for anything as minor as reporting that the carpet is coming loose at a seam or a reading light being out at one of the seats, to larger issues such as a jumpseat not working properly or an overhead bin won’t stay shut.
Recently, before closing the door to the aircraft, I noticed a wire loose, just sticking out and waving hello to me, from inside the frame. That didn’t look right to me, so I asked the captain to come take a look at it. Wires should be mounted at each end, not waving to flight crew!

No engine = a lot of reports!
In the end, it turned out to be a grounding wire. Nearly everything on an airplane is redundant (there are more than one, so if one system goes inoperative, it has a back up), and the same was true in this instance. Eventually, we were OK’d to take off and the issue was differed, meaning they would fix it at a later time. But it doesn’t end there. There’s always paperwork to fill out. A report in triplicate, rubber stamped, blessed and accompanied by a note from your mother. Many times something is a simple fix, but waiting for the paperwork to get completed by maintenance is the reason for a wait.
For flight attendants, we have reports for catering discrepancies, reports for using medical equipment, reports for FAA violations, or those who violate FAA regulations. We have reports for injuries, reports for extended delays and reports for safety issues. Thinking back, I’m shocked we didn’t have a class in initial training for report writing!
I’m good with reports. I enjoy writing and I’ve spent a number of years working in the field of security, including one year working with the Secret Service at the official residence of our 41st president of the United States. I’m pretty good with detail and keeping out emotions. Just the facts, ma’am. I’ve been told my reports are some of the best.
What’s funny is the common thinking amongst flight attendants about safety…“Please take your seat, the seat belt sign is on and I don’t want to do the paperwork if you get injured.” It’s true. But what’s really true is that nearly every trip has one report or another, and sometimes two or more. In fact, the very day after writing this story, I had a man pass out and require oxygen. He was able to walk off the flight on his own accord, and I had yet another report to fill out when I got home.
Fixing an oxygen mask compartment.

So working a trip and getting home and finding that I have no notes for any reports to fill out, doesn’t happen all the time. It’s nice that all of our reports are now done on line, so at least I can do them from the comfort of home. One of the best things about my job is that I can totally leave it behind once I leave the aircraft…save for a report or two. But when I have none, it sure is nice. It’s my favorite.

Posted on

My Favorite Things: Ferrying a Flight

Takeoff from San Francisco International

Since my days in training I’ve heard the stories; zooming down the aisles on serving trays or standing at the back wall of the plane during take off, kicking back and watching movies in first class seats; singing songs over the PA system; party in the back, sleeping up front. The reasons vary for the need; mechanical issues, aircraft positioning, apparently it once happened after someone relieved themselves in the aisle – toxic land mine! It’s always been a dream of mine, and in 15 years, I’ve only had one incident of doing it… ferrying a flight.

A ferried flight is one in which there are no passengers; only crew. Often, aircraft are ferried with only pilots, but occasionally, flight attendants are also needed to accompany a ferried aircraft. I think all flight crew enjoy the chance to ferry a flight.
Many years ago a pilot told me a story about ferrying a flight. There were no other crew members other than the two pilots. There were carts installed in the galleys, but they were empty. During the flight, the pilots got a hankering for a hot cup of joe. The first officer went hunting but couldn’t find any coffee.
Upon entering the lav, he did find a pack, hanging on the hook. He decided to make a go of it and brewed a cup of coffee. Some flight attendants will hang a coffee pack in a lav that has particularly bad odor issues. He told me that once he tasted it, he realized how effective they were in doing so. He told me, “Every scent that was in that lavatory was now in that cup of coffee! I nearly lost my lunch!”
The morning I got the call that I was on a crew to ferry a flight, you’d have thought I won the lottery! I was a bit crest-fallen when learning that the flight was only from San Francisco to San Jose, which is only an hour drive…in traffic.
I showed up at the gate and met the rest of the crew. It was neat being able to board and just leave when we were ready; no passengers to board. We were to pick up our passengers in San Jose and then work to Denver. I was clearly the most excited of the five of us.
We completed our safety checks and briefed with the captain. He reminded us that we still had to arm the doors and then he said the magic words, “If anyone would like ride in the cockpit jumpseat, we’ll only have one available, just let us know. The others had no interest, but I was like a boy being told I could open Christmas presents two whole weeks before Christmas!
Beautiful Day in SF

After arming my door, I took my seat in the cockpit and strapped in. The captain had also said he’d leave the door open so the others, who were seated in the first class seats, could have a view. I’d been able to take off and land in the cockpit during training, but if you’ve been reading my stories, you know how much I love aviation, and being in the cockpit is the best!

It was a beautiful day in the Bay Area. We taxied and took off and as the plane’s nose arched upward, the cockpit door slammed shut. Unable to reach it, it remained closed until we were safely in the air, at which time the others offered their complaints of not being able to see the takeoff.

The sad thing about the short distance of our ferry flight was that we only reached an altitude of about 8,000 feet, but the aerial tour going down the coast was fantastic. The Pacific Ocean was on my right and the bay on my left, with the hills, the highway, Stanford University and Moffett Field, once the home of huge blimps and an airfield that still (at that time) housed their huge hangars.
In no time at all we were landing from the south at San Jose, and after taxiing to the gate, there was no wait for the passengers to board; scheduled departure had come and gone and we were coming to the rescue. It was sort of awkward going from such a fantastic experience to suddenly having to work!

High above San Francisco
I’ve not given up hope for the opportunity to ferry a flight longer than half an hour. A whole aircraft with nothing but crew, access to movies, cooking your own meal at your leisure, hanging out in the cockpit…ferrying a flight…it’s my favorite!

Posted on

My Favorite Things: Working It

One thing this job has is lots of variety. This is not a job for people who like the mundane; who like regulated tasks; who like repetition. I see people working on assembly lines and think to myself, “I’d rather be attacked by a giant fruit cake!” Besides the constantly varying days off, my job is full of different destinations and aircraft.

An Airbus about to land at EWR

The question I get asked most, and gets my eyes rolling, is, “What is your route?” It’s OK, not many people realize how 60s that question is. Only the most senior flight attendant has a constant ‘route’. And if I ever become that senior, I don’t know that I would want one. I like variety.
There are periods of holding similar trips for a month or two; plus, every other month I’m on call and have no control over where I fly. A few winters ago, I was holding Boston layovers, which I thoroughly enjoyed. But soon, the flying shifted and I was holding Orlando. While not as exciting as Boston, I liked the hotel in Orlando and the airport is nice. One month you may see Austin, Texas 3 or 4 times, and then you won’t see it for years. It’s fun going to cities after years of not being there, such as a recent layover in Memphis, where the previous one for me was over 10 years ago! There is no ‘route’, just a constant change.
My airline has 8 kinds of aircraft in her fleet and I am trained for each one. I used to love flying on the 747. It’s such a big bird, lots of places to roam, many passengers to get to know, 15 or so crew members and it takes you far away from home, which is the main reason I got this job. The 777 is a great plane to work because it was designed with input from flight crew. It’s the largest twin engine airliner in the world. We have several variants of the ’67 and the ’37. The 787 seems like a great plane, but I’ve yet to work on one.
Interior of an Airbus 

There are things I don’t like about the Airbus, such as the manner in which the jumpseat seat belts constantly get stuck when it retracts. But there is a lot to like about the aircraft, such as the wider aisles and flight attendant-friendly gallies. (The new 737 galleys were obviously designed by people who were never flight attendants!)

If I had to choose one position on one plane, I think I would choose purser on the Airbus A319. When I was based in San Francisco, there was nothing better than that position on a transcon red-eye flight. For the most part, the passengers sleep for most of the flight. There was a quick little service after takeoff, I would then assist with picking up trash in economy, and then it was pretty much just keeping yourself busy for 4 hours. As a writer and a night owl, this was very easy for me. I used to get a lot accomplished on those flights.
The nice thing about flying purser is being the only one on the jumpseat. There are a lot of times when I like peace and quiet, including at work. There’s nothing worse than sitting on the jumpseat next to a flight attendant who’s name is Chatty Kathy and all I want to do is listen to the conversation in my head. But with all the chatter, all my inside voice can do is shout, “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!”
View from door 2L on an Airbus

We don’t have that many long night flights being based in Houston. And in Houston, we don’t see the 747. But I do still get a lot of flights on the A319. They’re rarely all nighters, but I am often purser. The variety is great with this job, but when I’m purser on the 319, that’s my favorite!

Posted on

My Favorite Things: The Double Chime

An arrival in Lisbon

Whether it’s a great flight or one where, as I say, “I earned my money on that one!” there is no better sound than the double chime. Any flight attendant would agree. Ding…ding. At the end of the flight it means get in gear, the plane is now on final approach. If you’re working with a crew member as dry as a slice of fruit cake, it means in half an hour you most likely won’t fly with them again for a very long time. If you’re about to start vacation, it means that all though your brain has been on vacation for a week, your body is about to finally get in synch. If at the end of a trip assignment, it means that you’re home. After a long 4-day domestic trip, it’s simply the best sound in the universe.

The pilots engage the double chime when we descend to 10,000 feet. They do so by cycling the no smoking sign off and back on. Right after take off it tells us the cockpit is no longer sterile, a term that means we are not to disturb them. On approach it’s our signal to prepare for landing and that we can no longer bother the pilots with anything but safety related business.
At this point, we’ve picked up the trash and now we conduct our safety checks. No more pillows and blankets to hand out. No more water for your medicine. No more milk for your baby. It’s go time. Safety checks (seats forward, bags, tray tables, and head rest are stowed) and a jumpseat away from what we hope is a short taxi and then get off the plane…we want to go home!

Jet bridge controls

What is better is when the double chime sounds early. Flight crews, just like our wonderful passengers, love arriving early. I once had a layover in Hawaii and arrived an hour early, which was splendid. On a horrid, short layover in a worn-out airport hotel, an early arrival means just that much more rest before going at it the next day. And when home, I love it when I reach my car and look at my watch and think, ‘gee, had we been on time, I’d just now be touching down, yet here I am, in my Peng-UV, about join the masses on my commute home’. (Yes, I call my SUV a Peng-UV. Why not?)
There can be a down side to an early arrival, and don’t even mention it, for it is likely to happen. The dreaded ‘gate-is-occupied’. That’s the worst…arriving early and having to sit on the plane…on the ground…even longer after a long flight. But when the gate is free, and we’re early, that’s a good day.
Waiting for the jet bridge

Another bad thing is having a gate, arriving to it, the engines shut down and the passengers are right behind me, waiting for the door to be opened, but there is no gate agent to bring the jet bridge up. “I guess they weren’t expecting us this early,” I’ll say to those just behind me.

And it’s funny when we are due in early, the captain has stated as much on his several announcements, but a passenger will stop me to ask about a tight connection. I’ll look at their ticket and see that they had 50 minutes when we were to be on time. “No worries, ma’am, we’re due in 20 minutes early.”
You may notice often, flight crew standing in the galley at the end of the flight after the seat belt sign is on. We may be talking about our weekend or our next trip. We may be talking about the strange dude in 22A. We may be talking about the overly talkative pilots. But when you hear the double chime, you’ll see us smile and maybe do a little dance. The double chime. It’s my favorite!
Posted on

Adventures in Flight: JumpSeat Therapy


Jump Seat Therapy by Penguin Scott 2-21-09

It’s so good to be back home. My two cats are purring and a storm is blowing in with lots of rain and wind. I would have beat the storm had I not had to stop at the store on the way home from the airport. I do love my milk, and since I’m off for the next four days, I needed a few other provisions as well.

I find it difficult to keep track of time with my job. Weeks have little meaning to me, since my schedule is always different and most of my weekends are 3 or 4 days long. But what’s worse is just keeping track of days. I only left yesterday morning, but it seems like it was 3 days ago. It’s hard to imagine I’ve only been gone 41 hours. After all, in that time I’ve been to Vancouver, Chicago (twice) and Buffalo, NY for 19 hours. It’s why I demand my watch have two time zones, one of which I always keep on local time, and also have the day and date. It’s a common affliction with flight attendants; having a hard time keeping up with time.

This was an easy trip; only two days, most flights had light loads, the layover was 19 hours. But yesterday was such a long day- a 12 hour duty day with nearly 8 hours of flight time. The hard part was that I woke up at 3:30 in the morning, when I wasn’t due up until 5:00. I never could get back to sleep. So by the time I arrived in my hotel room at the Hyatt in downtown Buffalo, I was spent. I even passed on the offer of drinks by our pilots, something I normally would not do.

Mostly, there were just the three of us on this trip; myself, my flying partner, Tea, and the purser, Michelle. We were all very close in seniority, my being most senior, which is quite rare! There was one segment of the trip when we were on a larger plane with two others joining us. But otherwise, it was just us three.

One fun aspect of my job is the camaraderie. There is a term commonly used in our industry: jump seat therapy. The jump seat is the fold down seat near each door on the plane where we are assigned to sit. Flight attendants tend to open up and tell their flying partners things most people wouldn’t tell complete strangers. And with over 15,000 flight attendants system-wide, most people we fly with are complete strangers. Well, they start out that way. After a 2-day or more trip with them, you get to know them really well. It’s easy to open up and very therapeutic, so before long one starts to hang all the laundry out.

Tea is a woman in her mid 40s. She lives in the northern part of the East Bay with her husband and two daughters. Well, actually, one daughter, as one just left for college. They are attractive girls, both with natural blond hair, but the one who just left for college had hers dyed red. I know this from Tea’s blackberry, which had a photo of her girls on the front screen. Each time we landed the first thing she would do is pull it out and turn it on. Looking over at it, I had a good view of the photo, so I asked if they were here girls.

This was Tea’s second trip back from a year off for a medical leave. She got an infection on her finger that was similar to a staff infection. She had to go the hospital daily for an I.V. She was a little rusty and full of questions. “What are the new rumors of a merger? How do you do the new liquor paperwork? Now that we staff 757s with four, how do we work the service? Do we still have the nice downtown layover in Chicago?” Just simple questions, normal for someone who’s been gone for a while, and I was happy to give the answers I could. She was not rusty on the beverage cart, though. She was quite prompt, in fact. But I have a tendency to say hi or strike up a small conversation with passengers when I’m delivering drinks, so there are times I seem slow in my service. So many flight attendants just fling the drink at you and move on. And all of our flights had plenty of time, so I was even more encouraged to be polite.

Tea liked to name drop. On her time away from flying, she had volunteered for the Obama campaign. She was even invited to attend a speech in Phoenix where she got to stand right behind him as he gave his address. She got to meet him as well, and his wife. Later, she would plop down next to me with her lap top to show me photos. They were much like any photo I’ve ever seen of Barack or of Michelle, although I have yet to see a photo of the silver shoes Mrs. Obama wears. “My daughter asked me to take a picture of her shoes,” she told me when I chuckled at the shot.

Her friend just lost a dog, who was more a child to her. She took 2 weeks from work to grieve. When she heard that a famous actor had just lost his dog, this friend of hers, who makes jewelry, designed a necklace for him with a photo of his dog in it. She found the name of the actor’s agent and got in touch with them to see if he would be interested in having her send it to him. They asked if she could do so within two days, before he left for the Oscars. He was so excited to receive the necklace, he called her to thank her and wants to meet with her for dinner.

There were other names dropped. But as usual, as I sat on the jump seat, my interest was more in line with seeing what I could out of the small windows we have to see out of. With my airplane disease (obsession with planes), I like to see the airport, the runways and the planes taxiing. I like the views as we ascend or descend and of the clouds. I’m often deep in thought and tuning out most of what the women sitting next to me are spewing out, trying only to catch the important parts so that later I can regurgitate some of it so they think I was listening.

It’s different sitting next to another guy. We can sit in silence for 10 or 15 minutes and not be afraid that we don’t like one another. And if the guy next to me has little in common with me, it’s not uncommon to remain silent for nearly the entire trip. And that’s just fine with guys. There are always the standard questions, whether flying with a man or a woman, which are: what is your seniority, where do you live, if they commute, where do you commute to, where did you grow up and what did you do before becoming a flight attendant? Most flight attendants cover these basics at some time or another in the trip, whether you are with them for one flight or six. And talk of union and work issues is almost always guaranteed to carry us through the down times of the flight.

Whereas Tea liked to drop names, Michelle really liked to talk. I didn’t really notice that she was so addicted to speaking as she is until we got in the van to drive to our hotel last night in Buffalo. Michelle worked up front and I was in back with Tea. Tea set up the galley on each leg, which meant I greeted passengers up at door one, right next to Michelle. She did have a habit of interrupting me when I was speaking. She did have a lot to say. But when we got in the van (after twelve hours of working, eight hours of flying, we were tired, it was dark and the ride took us about 20 minutes) she talked. I was in the beginning of what would eventually become the worst migraine headache I’d had in years…many, many years. Out of the airport, she talked; along the freeway, she talked; through downtown, she talked more. When the headache again woke me this morning at 3am, I couldn’t help but wonder if wasn’t from all the talking.

Michelle was a little younger than Tea, and me; I’d guess she was in her late 30s. She just celebrated her ninth wedding anniversary the night before our trip. They had gone out to dinner, and while she wasn’t up too late, she was tired. A few years ago she bought her first new car, all others had been bought used. It was a 4runner, which is what I drive, but I wasn’t able to relay that information to her. It was stolen when it had 8,000 miles on it, which for some reason made it difficult to sell, which she had to do because the payments got to be too high. She was able to sell it and buy another car and pay it off 2 years sooner than she would have done with the 4runner. Now her only payment is her mortgage.

Michelle lives with her husband in Walnut Creek and mostly takes BART to the airport. I’m not sure how the car thing came up. I’m not sure why she started to talk about her sister and her brother in law and their house. Then I’m not sure what else she spoke of as I was doing all I could to phase her out and take in the sights of Buffalo.

At one point I was yelling at her in my head, “Shut up! You have not stopped talking for more than five seconds. I need some silence! Oh my god!” It was sort of funny, actually. It’s for times like these I wished I didn’t keep my MP3 player packed in my bag, which was stored in the back of the van, where I couldn’t reach it. My kingdom for some earplugs!

When we got out of the van, the captain made a comment to me about her chatter, “Sheesh, I make one comment about a car payment and it propelled her through the rest of the trip.” “I know,” I told him, “thank goodness this is only a 2-day trip. But I’m used to it as this is quite common with a lot of flight attendants.”

Back on the plane today, there would be times I went to the front of the plane to tell her something. She’d start in on a story and I’d wait patiently to for her to finish in order to get out that which I had to say. I’d finally have to give up on waiting, find a moment when she was taking a breath, and blurt it out only hoping she wouldn’t interrupt me. She did end up buying me an order of Buffalo wings at the airport in New York. She was very nice and treated passengers well. She was simply addicted to speech. And where I normally wouldn’t feel comfortable with someone buying me dinner, in this case I took it as compensation.

People were all nice on this 2-day trip. Our flight up to Vancouver was light and the last row of seats were left empty. We blocked them off so passengers wouldn’t take them. We call this our ‘lounge’. I’d been up so early and was already tired. After we finished the service, I took a seat in the lounge and looked out the window. Below was a large city along side a river and on the other side were some hills. I studied the downtown closer, lots of buildings, it was a good-sized city. I forgot where we were going for a moment, thinking maybe we were going to Chicago, and wondered if it was St. Louis. I found the major airport, and it wasn’t where the airport in St. Louis would be, and I couldn’t see the arch. I kept trying to think of what this city might be, thinking in my head of all the cities between San Francisco and Chicago. Then I realized that we were going north along the West Coast and the city was Portland. Ah, Portland; I have good friends down there. I jumped to the other side for a view of the snow-topped mountains. It was gorgeous. As well as having a hard time keeping track of days, we often forget to where it is that we are going.

We were only in Vancouver for an hour or so before setting off for Chicago, where we had just over two hours before our third flight to Buffalo. I spent my time on the computer working trip trades for the following month.

As we boarded our flight to Buffalo, a young boy of about 7 or 8 walked on the plane. I said hello to him and he looked up at me and said, “I love god.” I was a bit shocked to hear this. It’s not every day I hear this from a small child. “That’s, um, great!” I replied. His mother was just behind him and smiled to us as she informed us he had just received a new cross on his necklace and was referring to that.

After he passed, Michelle asked if she heard him correctly. This brought up a discourse on how religion on children is nothing more than brainwashing. “I mean, they believe in Santa and the Easter Bunny just as much as whatever religion their parents are shoving down their throat.” I was brought up with different views, Jewish, Lutheran, Methodist, Catholic, Shaman and Paganism. I agreed that perhaps it was best to treat religion like a subject in school and allow a young adult to find the path of their own choosing. I couldn’t disagree.

But then there was the girl on my flight home tonight from Chicago in seat 34G. She sat next to her mother who, on both of their tray tables, had spread out a virtual buffet of food; a feast for the two of them. I made a comment about this and the girl informed me of her loose tooth, thinking it might even come out during flight. I smiled back to her and said, well, at least if that happens up here, you’ll be closer to the Tooth Fairy! She smiled a toothy grin and looked over at her mom in excitement. She hadn’t thought of that! Funny how we let go of certain myths and hold dearly to others.

We were late arriving, which put a bind on Michelle’s schedule. She had a train to catch home or she’d have to end up spending the night in the airport. She left quickly so Tea and I walked to the bus together, then to the elevator in the garage. She got off on the 5th floor and we said farewell. Another trip was over. It was an easy week, but I’m ready for my 4-day weekend. I don’t know when I’ll see Tea or Michelle again. But I always carry extra aspirin; and I’m always ready for my next session of jump seat therapy.