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Being There: My Meeting with Shirley Maclaine

Penguin from seat 1A
I do love me some Vancouver layovers. It’s convenient that the hotel is walkable. The surrounding scenery is beautiful. The airport is modern and culturally relevant. The Canadian passengers are nice, almost like they’re from another, nicer country. Oh, wait…
With a seventeen-hour layover, I was able to get some writing done and sleep in. I left my room early enough to wander to the food court for a bite to eat before passing through customs and making my way down the terminal to the gate for my flight to Denver. This was day three of a four day trip, so I was a bit tired and sort of happy to be eating by myself. My flying partners met at the plane. They seemed rested and happy- chatty, as usual.
Boarding had begun and the overhead bins were getting quite full, even though there were a lot of empty seats. I was working up front, which would be full, so I closed a few of the overhead bins to save room for my first class passengers. Just as I returned to the forward galley, a man in uniform entered the plane carrying a large, bright red bag. It almost looked like a purse, with large handle straps and a zipper down the middle, but it was large enough that it actually had wheels on one end, and a telescoping handle, so one could pull it behind them with ease. Behind this man was an older woman with short hair and glasses. She smiled as she came on board and noticing the seat number on her boarding pass, moved into row one.
The man in the uniform looked at me for help with her bag. We don’t take bags and place them in overhead bins at Mother Airline, so I pointed to some of the bins I had just closed and he found space just behind the row of seats. In the meantime, the older woman looked at her ticket and saw that she had seat 1B and asked the man if she could move into the window seat instead. He again looked to me for guidance. He was simply the man lucky enough to be hired by the airport to assist certain passengers to the plane, and certainly had no authority to approve this request.
Before I could answer, my flying partner, Krysten, let the woman know that we could simply ask the person whose seat she was taking if they would switch with her. Normally, it’s not an issue, and I was quite fine with whatever situation made the most people happiest. The woman began to settle in and the uniformed man took his leave.
I leaned into Krysten, saying how much I thought the lady looked like Shirley Maclaine, but older. Krysten gave me a blank stare, not sure of who Shirley Maclaine was. “Wow,” I said, “you’re so young!”
“I’m not that young,” she replied, and gave me her age, which seemed older than I was expecting. Krysten seemed to figure the name out after I mentioned a few movies that have made her popular.
Returning to the cabin, I took pre-departure drink orders from a few passengers who had settled in, and the woman in 1A stopped to ask me where the movie screen was. “There used to be little screens,” she told me, “they would pop down and we could watch a movie. Where are they? Don’t you have entertainment?” As this was one of my pet peeves with Mother Airline, I almost felt like I was being baited.
The Vancouver Airport

After briefly going over Mother Airline’s decision to remove the screens in favor of passengers watching movies and shows streamed onto their own devices, I had to explain the process of how to download the Mother Airline app, so that once we were in the air, she could connect to the Wi-Fi and commence to be entertained for our two hour and twenty minute flight.

The problem is, I’m not tech savvy. I have a tech savvy friend in the Bay Area who used to help me with computer issues, often over the phone. He would endure my ignorance of computers and technology and spend what felt like hours upon hours assisting me. He would often lament, “That’s not possible! Your computer is doing things that should not be possible. How is that?” There would be a moment of silence from my end, followed by an, “Idontknow.” It’s the only answer I had to offer. He thought I must have some mystical powers to affect technical mischief. I half agreed.
So for this woman to be asking me to walk her through setting up her personal electronic device would be akin to asking the Pope for advice on positions in the Kama Sutra. Fortunately, the man behind her, in 2B, overheard and started giving pointers. I had a lot of things to do, since we were still boarding, so I excused myself. Krysten was still at the boarding door welcoming passengers, and after looking at the passenger manifest, informed me that the lady in 1A really WAS Shirley Maclaine. I could only roll my eyes and gasp, looking back to the actress peering through her glasses at her phone with the young man behind her trying to walk her through setting up the necessary app. But the smile on my face showed her how excited I was to be working in first class with such a talented actress as one of the passengers in my charge. Shirley freaking Maclaine! I’ve met a lot of people with name recognition, but for me, this was a thrill.
As luck would have it, the nice woman who was assigned to 1A took 1B without a word. And as luck would have it, she was tech savvy and was able to answer Ms. Maclaine’s questions. Ms. Maclaine realized that she had a larger tablet in her large, red bag, which might be more conducive to watching entertainment streamed from Mother Airline, and she looked up at me over her glasses. She was not demanding nor rude. She asked if I would be able to fetch her bag for her, so that she could retrieve her tablet, and pointed to where the man in uniform had stored it. I opened the bin and took her bag out, placing it near her feet. It was heavy and full, and felt like nice leather. She had a hard time reaching it, but Miss Benson helped out. Miss Benson helped out a lot during this flight. 
Miss Maclaine in her window seat
Ms. Maclaine got her app downloaded, asked for a water, ordered the chicken mac and cheese and then I asked what she’d like to drink. Her first reply was a Gimlet. I could see Miss Benson look at me, ready to gauge my reaction. When it was determined that no Gimlet would be served on board, her second choice was a Cosmo. Wrong again. Miss Benson seemed entertained and chuckled.
In thinking of a classy woman like Shirley Maclaine, who didn’t seem content with anything normal, it came to mind that we had Moscow Mule on board. I asked her about giving that a try. This seemed to please her, especially when I mentioned that no one ever asks for it. Sold! Moscow Mule it would be. Miss Benson thinking that sounded good, ordered one as well.
The time had come to close the aircraft door and soon we were hurtling across the skies of north America. In just over two hours we’d be in Denver, and Ms. Maclaine would catch another plane to her home in New Mexico. As I always do, I kept an eye on the passengers to anticipate any needs, and Ms. Maclaine often looked up at me. I guess I half expected her to just ignore me, as most passengers do. She appeared to be genuinely appreciative of my contribution to her travel experience. She would look up to regard me being attentive, smile and look back down at her device.
I was glad to see her actually watching a movie. It would have been exacerbating to find her reading a book or magazine after all the trouble we went through to set up her device. While checking on my flying partners in the aft galley, Krysten asked what she was watching, so when I returned to first class, I paused at row two so that I could find out. It was the 2017 version of Beauty and the Beast.
She thanked me with a smile when I served her Moscow Mule. She ate half of the nuts in the cocktail snack that I placed next to her. When dinner was served, she paused the movie, removed her headphones and engaged Miss Benson in conversation. How fortunate for Miss Benson, seated next to a legend, helping her with her tech issues and now having dinner with her. They even clinked glasses in giving cheers to one another with their drinks. One sip and Ms. Maclaine called me over to ask for a mini of vodka, saying it was too sweet. Miss Benson agreed, so I returned with 2 minis.
I added the mini and Ms. Maclaine winked. I replied, “Well, that’s just how I would drink it!” She raised her glass to me, still smiling. She was always smiling.
In flight entertainment
Mother Airline provided slices of turtle cheesecake on small white plates. I placed these on the silver lined tray to dispense to my passengers, but upon searching the galley, I could find no forks. I would have to pass dessert out right away, before picking up the trays, so people could use their dinner forks for dessert. Not the classy manner in which I would have chosen to present this service, but sometimes you have to work with what you have at thirty-six thousand feet. Ms. Maclaine was finished eating; she ate rather quickly. She asked if I could take her tray. I asked if she would like cheesecake, and she did. I suggested that she keep the fork, as I had no more to pass out. She took only a few bites, handing it back to me, apologizing that she had found it too sweet for her taste. I told her I’d not judge.
When Miss Benson was finished eating, Ms. Maclaine went back to her movie. She refused another drink, asking only for a glass of water with ice. I was humbled by how human Ms. Maclaine was. To have paused her movie to engage Miss Benson, her always smiling and constant acknowledgment of me and my efforts…she was nicer than most passengers, yet here she was, nearly a household name.
I badly wanted a photo with her, and had hoped she would drink more, knowing that when she got up to use the lavatory would be the perfect time to use my charm to compliment her talents and request a selfie. The opportunity would have to wait, however, until the captain turned on the seat belt sign for landing, which she took as her cue to get up and quickly tend to business. When she came out of the lav, I told her how much I appreciated her body of work, saying that I was a huge fan, and asked if I could take a selfie. She was most accommodating. She got back in her seat, seemingly quite conscious of the fact that the seat belt sign was on, and I invited Miss Benson to join in.
While kneeling down next to them I told Ms. Maclaine how I had met Matthew McConaughey only a few months prior, and the week before meeting him, I had watched the movie, “Bernie,” in which they had both starred. She exclaimed how much she loved making that movie, telling me how fun it had been to work with the locals. I gushed at how much I loved the movie and had found the performances by all the actors to have been so engaging.
The selfie with Miss Benson and Shirley Maclaine

For several minutes, I was able to chat with her about something other than my lack of technology sense, and in bringing up the Harvey Weinstein sex scandal, she had nothing positive to say about his character, which Miss Benson found intriguing. She thanked me again for assisting her so well during boarding and taking good care of her in flight. She told me that she was about to meet the director of the movie she had been watching, but had not seen it, and felt that it was important to do so before meeting with him. She said that the role of the teapot had been written with her in mind, and that they had hoped she would voice it and sing the songs, but she had to pass it up. She rolled her eyes as she said this. I complimented her in saying that she would make a great teapot! In response, she said, “You would make a great teapot!”

I took this at first as a compliment and Miss Benson laughed a bit. But I’m not sure. Was it?
If Shirley Maclaine thinks I could pull off portraying the teapot, I’m willing. Have your people call my people. I can fly to LA first thing and be in the studio tomorrow! (I’ve always wished I could do voice work, after all, I’ve already fulfilled my desire to be a professional actor. I’d love to do some acting again.)
We landed in Denver safe and sound. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve landed in Denver, I could buy a very nice teapot complete with matching cups and the tea to put in them. The passengers began to deplane and Ms. Maclaine was not yet ready. She was still gathering her belongings. She placed the Mother Airlines headphones she had used in the seat back pocket, telling me she had done so, as if I had to account for them. I joked with her that she could keep them as a souvenir. Miss Benson again assisted her and I noticed quite a few passengers craning their neck as they left to catch a glimpse of the actress in 1A. I guess they had noticed her, as I had done.
From the movie “Being There”
She thanked me again, taking my hand in hers as she did so. I moved her bag out of her way and placed in such a way as to make it easy for her to grab the handle. And with that, she was gone.
All five of us working the flight were excited to have her on our flight to Denver. I shared the photos I had taken with the pilots and we then ran into the nice young man from seat 2B, who had helped us before leaving Vancouver.
“I know I recognize her,” he said, “but what was her name?” He couldn’t believe he couldn’t think it when I told him. He was star struck and happy he had the chance to help her out. It was then that I had an a-ha moment, and I was so disappointed in myself for forgetting. One of my all time favorite movies is “Being There,” with Peter Sellers, and she starred in that movie. I wish I had remembered this, so I could let her know, but there are so many wonderful roles Shirley Maclaine has taken on. I was lucky to have met one of the best. (And she was lucky to have been served by one of the best!) Perhaps it was destiny. Perhaps we’d met in a previous life. Perhaps we’ll meet in the next!
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Adventures in Flight: Crew Rest

Finally, the tie is off, pockets are emptied, and my feet are happy not to bound in shoes walking the aisles. The first service is complete and the plane is at altitude en route to a far away destination. It’s time for a crew rest.

On long-haul flights, once the initial service is complete, it’s time for crew breaks. Crew breaks are sacred. Services are seemingly done quickly mainly to allow maximum time for crew break; that’s what many senior flight attendants would have you to believe. When I get juniored into a position I’m not very familiar with, such as first class galley, I can usually get out of it by saying, “OK, I don’t really know this position, so I may be a bit slow and the breaks may be shorter…” Someone always steps up and takes the position from me before I can complete the sentence. Don’t mess with crew rest!
Depending on the length of flight and how many breaks there are (two or three), crew can look forward to anywhere from an hour to more than 3, out of view from passengers for a rest. Each plane has a different crew rest set up. The best is the 777 aircraft with the crew rest bunks in the belly of the plane. Situated in the center of the plane, one can enjoy lying flat with limited movement felt in flight. While the crew bunks in the 747 are comfortable, they are located at the tail of the aircraft, above the passenger area, and as you may know, the tail experiences more movement as it gets buffeted by the winds in flight. The least bit of turbulence is exaggerated in these bunks. They do have seat belts, and I have feared actually falling out of an upper bunk during turbulence. Shake, rattle and roll!

View down below

 The worst crew rest is located in the passenger cabin, separated only by a thick curtain. The seats don’t lie flat and noise is hardly muffled from the riff raff just outside the curtain. Such is the case on the 767, which I fly most on my trips to South America and the 777 that Mother Airline uses for flights to Hawaii, which don’t have the bunks in the belly of the plane.

It’s nice to get settled in, turn the air on full-blast because I’m still overheated from the service, just start falling asleep, and then the infant that is always boarded next to us starts to cry. Well, maybe nice isn’t the word. Or the passenger behind us decides to open their shade every 5 minutes and the bright light in the dark cabin creeps through the cracks between the curtain and the cabin wall like a tiny sun has formed just behind my head. (I think I could actually hear the light, it was so intense.) Or a nearby passenger has an empty water bottle at their feet and every 10 minutes their foot finds it and makes a crackly-plastic bottle sound that in my sleepy state sounds as if it is right over my head.
When I first started flying international trips out of San Francisco in the early 2000s, I watched what the others did and would do the same thing- ear plugs in the ears, eye mask, strip down to the basic uniform and dive under a blanket with 2 pillows. I never could sleep. Maybe it was the thrill of going to a new foreign destination, which back then, was quite rare for me and my insignificant seniority. Or maybe it’s as I learned later on, that I simply can’t sleep with earplugs in my ears and an eye mask digging into my head. I don’t sleep like that at home, why would I think I could sleep like that in a crew rest bunk shaking like a hula dancer at 35,000 feet?

Night time departure

These days, I feel much more like a pro when it comes to crew rest. I prefer the first break, because it’s hard coming off of break and going right into the arrival service. With first break, I can get my rest and then get up, have my crew meal (also sacred) and not be a sleepy-head when the second service begins. I also don’t wake up very gracefully.
There is one bunk on the 747 known for being colder than the others; I prefer this one. I prefer to be next to the window when we must rest in the cabin behind the curtain; people are always walking past the curtain and bumping into me.
What’s fun and entertaining is how passengers always try to move into the empty crew rest seats. I recently encountered a man quite proud of having acquired one on a full flight, leaving his center seat for a crew seat. I stopped by, said hello, and asked where his seat was. He stated this was his seat. I said that it couldn’t be, because this was a crew rest seat and asked again where his seat was, knowing full well… He was quite determined and didn’t seem to understand, so I asked, “Are a crew member? Are you working this flight?” He looked at me, the gleam in his eyes obviously dimming, “No.” “Then, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to return to your seat, crammed in between two very large men on a 10 hour flight. These seats are reserved for working crew.” Inside voice was asking me if I enjoyed crushing human spirits.
Crew rest is sacred, so if you happen to be on a plane seated next to the crew break area, please be considerate, quiet, keep your window shades closed, your baby in silent mode, and for the love of the gods, do not disturb!

Shadows from the skies
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View to a Thrill: Hello from Denver

View from my hotel room in Denver

When I first started flying for Mother Airline, most of my layovers were long enough to get out and explore the cities in which I stayed. These long layovers are where I enjoyed exploring, did a lot of my shopping or went to see a movie at a nearby theater. After 9-11, the layovers got shorter and to save money, we more often than not stayed in hotels near the airport, not near stores and their sales or theaters and their new releases.
One of the reasons I remember long Denver layovers are for the sales I’d find at the Ross, the flying pizza at Anthony’s and watching movies at the 16thStreet theaters. It’s been years since I’ve had a long Denver layover. So when I saw the trip in my line, I was eager to return and explore an area that I know has been revitalized. 
Large hand-thrown pies at Anthony’s
What a let down! My first experience back on 16th St. after so long an absence, staying on the narrow sidewalk out of the sun in temperatures of over 90 degrees, was running past the gauntlet of all the smokers standing in a row, looking miserable, inhaling their cancerous smoke, and blowing it for all the rest of society to consume. Ahh, the mountain air of Col…hack, cough, wheeze…orado!
I had heard from many sources about the increase in homeless along 16th St. I didn’t think much of it. I see a lot of homeless on my layovers. Honolulu has quite a few. I see them in Seattle and certainly when I’m in San Francisco (of course in SF, one can have a decent-paying job and still be homeless!). But oh, my, they have intensified here; to the point where it really detracts from what should be a positive experience. Hand made signs on boxes; shopping carts standing by for treasures dug from trash cans; half naked youth making weird signs with their hands while talking foully to friends a block away as if in some gang; the mentally unstable yelling at the top of their lungs to either no one or invisible entities who might be shouting things back. It’s quite the festive scene, and until you’ve smelled a group of homeless sweating in 95 degree heat smoking cigarette butts found on the ground, you’ve not been festive enough! Whee-you!
Looking East along 16th Street
I did endure the heat well enough to walk to the end of the long pedestrian street. I got my slice of flying pizza and happened into a Krispy Kreme donuts on their first day to be open. I spent some time in the Money Museum of the Federal Reserve Bank in hopes that samples would be given (and they were…only, the money was quite well shredded and quite unusable for me). I did find a great price on a new pair of layover shoes, just like the old days.
Street buffalo art
There is a lot that is great about walking around downtown Denver. I love the interchange of new and old architecture and the colorful flowers. I really enjoy the numerous brightly-painted pianos left in the middle of the street with ivory ready to be tickled by anyone who passes by. I love that cannabis is legal and enjoyed an occasional wafting scent being enjoyed in public. And I really love the glimpses of white-capped mountains peeking from between skyscrapers of steel and glass.
I’m going to be so rich one day!
And just like that, time winds down. The office workers who were on their lunch break return to their offices. The streets empty just a bit for the tourists and more homeless. Young men and women emerge in sweaty Lycra from various gyms to show off svelte bodies and toned arms and legs. And Penguin waddles back to his cool hotel room to survey it all from the comfort of another layover hotel room window, high above it all. Mission accomplished. I do love my long downtown layovers!

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Passenger of the Day: Baby Mama

Perhaps it’s why she arranged their seating in this manner, as I could hear her in the aisle as I set up the aft galley. She traveled with her husband and two children and commented on the fact that their seating was two on one side of the plane and two on the other. “Well, we should be able to switch seats around a bit. No one will want to sit next to the kids. She put the boys, aged 2 and 4, on one side of the plane and she sat next to her husband. Between them was an aisle and two seats.
This would do for now, so I left them alone and went back to setting things up in the galley.
At the start of the safety demo, I knew I was going to have to fix things in that last row with Baby Mama. When I got to the last row, I found two things: no one else had joined them in that row, and Baby Mama had moved to the aisle seat next to the children. But right after takeoff, she moved back next to her husband. 
Penguin learning how to be safe at emergency training
“Hi, there. I just need to let you know that someone is going to have to sit next to the young children over there,” I said, smiling warmly to her. She protested. “I’m sorry, but an adult needs to be with children of that age, in case the oxygen masks deploy. They need help reaching the masks and putting them on.”
“Well, I can just move over if that happens,” she shot back.
“I’m sorry, it doesn’t always happen that way. In a sudden decompression, you won’t be able to move over. The plane will be in a dive, things will be blowing all around, sight will be limited due to fog created by the sudden change in pressure, people will be screaming, masks flying back, gasses expelling from your body, flashes of your life whipping by…mass pandemonium.”
Oxygen mask compartment open for repairs
Of course, most of that was inside voice. But she got the picture and rolled her eyes. With a big sigh, she moved next to them. For the remainder of the 3 hour trip, the two adults took turns sitting next to the boys, who never seemed to look up from their entertainment device.
As we began decent into our destination, the movie the boys had been watching ended and the two became a bit unruly; fussing and whining. Baby Mama was on the A side and Dad was next to the boys. I was behind them in the galley getting ready for the double chimes to sound; our queue to prepare the cabin for landing. Baby Mama suggested to Dad that they separate the boys, “Why don’t you hand one over here,” she stated. The father silently complied (I don’t know that I heard him speak even once during the flight). He picked up the nearest child and began to hand him over.
She quickly shot to him, “Not that one!” Had I liquid in my mouth, I’m certain the spit take would have been one to rival the best comedians. Having no liquid in my mouth, my other option was to double over in laughter…silent but for the sudden outburst of a chuckle. I looked back and my flying partner had obviously heard the comment, as well, for she was nearly on the floor laughing, in tears, having wet herself slightly.
That’s some good parenting!
Foggy cabin
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Adventures in Flight: Drama Llama

Stop

My parents live on a ranch in Colorado. On the neighboring ranch can be seen a llama. It’s a lone llama, eating grass alongside horses in the mountains. It’s a cute llama, as llamas go, and I enjoy reminding it that its mama is a llama. Mom, on the other hand, calls out to it, “Llama llama ding dong.” Don’t judge…I know you talk to animals, too. I’m not sure if this llama has much drama in its life, but I’m willing to bet if there is, it’s that damned llama’s doing!

Flight attendants often have drama in their lives that for some reason, can make its way into the cabin- or least the galley. I try to avoid drama like fruitcake, but one can’t always be successful in doing so. Sometimes, it’s just a short little drama story. But every now and then the drama gets more intense.
We have all seen the news report of the flight attendants getting into fisticuffs with one another on a flight overseas, which had to be diverted when it got severe enough. I’ve never seen the drama reach such lofty heights and I hope I never have to.

Let me out…too much drama!

It was during the boarding process; I was greeting passengers and the purser was in the galley setting things up and preparing pre departure drinks for first class. One woman entered wearing a dark blue dress with white polka dots. I could tell from her bag that she was a flight attendant, so I said a warm hello and invited her to let me know if she needed anything. I always treat my passengers very well, but I also make sure to take great care of my fellow crew.
This woman took a few steps into the aisle and stopped, waiting to reach her seat. The purser stands up and leans in, but in not the quietest tone asks, “Do you see that woman, there? The one in the blue dress?”
“With the polka dots?” I confirm.
“Yes…that one,” she states with venom in her tone.
Ignoring drama

She starts into some story about not knowing her but having a mutual friend (an ex-mutual friend as it turns out) and this woman in the polka dots pulled her line and circled items and tried to turn it in to management, anonymously, which can’t be done because they can pull a history trail. Long story short, friends were lost, supervisors were met with, molehills became mountains and here they are all these years later ending up on the same plane together.

I don’t get involved in drama. Later, Miss Dots, while smiling, made a comment to me, “I’m sure you heard all about me from the purser…”
“Well, she said something, but I don’t do drama. May I get you something to drink?”
Meanwhile, anytime I entered the first class galley, the purser was quick to state, “She gets nothing!” My flying partner in the back was of the same mind. Miss Dots didn’t do anything to me. I’m not going to be brought into the middle of their spat, which occurred years ago, and even admittedly from the purser, Miss Dots now regrets ever having gotten involved.
Of the same mind one minute, drama the next. The woman I was working with began her story of drama in her home life. Issues with a mutual friend who is racist but using their service to our country as an excuse and yadda yadda yadda. She droned on for a while and I feigned interest until saved by a call light in the cabin from a woman needing a cup of water.

Chicago 747
Being amongst pretty white horses and grazing on grass in the mountains surely must be a drama-free life. I try to make my life as much like that as possible. I need more mountains and less grazing, but any time I can avoid drama, I do it! You can be the drama llama if you want, but please leave me out…lest you want to get a Christmas fruit cake from Penguin! (And no one wants that!)

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View to a Thrill: Checking Inn

A Marriott

Inside Voice has a sassy personality that I can’t always control. I try to keep Inside Voice silent, but sometimes it just blurts out. Inside Voice’s favorite response to the question, “Does Mother Airline pay for your hotels?” is, “No, we sleep in the terminal in makeshift shanty towns of lost and found coats and jackets and old seat cushions.” Inside Voice can be so sassy. Of course Mother Airlines provides for our hotels.
It’s said that back in the day, flight attendants had to bunk up and share a room. Today, our contract provides language of certain expectations for our hotel layovers. They must be of a certain standard (sorry, Best Western and Howard Johnson, our standards are high), be located in a safe environment, have food available, provide Internet access, provide no smoking rooms and a room for each crew member. Bunking up is strictly at the whims of the crew involved. (And yes, there have been times I’ve willingly bunked up, but that is for a completely different series!)
Most of our crew hotels are of the caliber of Marriott, Doubletree, Hyatt or Sheraton. One of the things I enjoy about my job the most are the layovers. I love the chance to get out and explore, engage in new cultures, see how people live and work, and enjoy a nice hotel room. Some hotels are fantastic to stay in. Others are quite mundane. Only a few were bad enough that I would never wish them on anyone else! (I’m looking at you DC.)
Almost any crew member will readily admit that there is nothing better than staying in a hotel that is attached to the airport. Not having to wait for the van, tip the driver or spend time in transport, are a huge bonus! It’s a fairly rare, bonus, however, as most of our layovers require the van ride.
My favorite hotel chain is probably Marriott, although I love the free cookies when you check in at a Doubletree. But with Marriott, you know that no matter what city you’re in, you’re going to have the same basic room…down to the same desk and lamp. It’s sort of nice to have that expectation. Of course, that doesn’t help in trying to figure out in which city you’re in. “Wasn’t I in this room last night?”
I’m often hear jealousy from others of all the room service I must take advantage of. Room service is a nice luxury, however, if I were to do it on a regular basis, I’d need another job to support the habit. Yes, most hotels give us a small discount- usually 15%. But most hotels tack on a 20% charge plus a fee for the opportunity to have someone bring your meal to your room. I’ve only taken advantage of room service at a hand full of hotels; once when the crew discount for food was 50% and perhaps a few times when I just didn’t feel like getting dressed and going down for food.

The Peabody Hotel in Memphis
I’ve found a routine in entering a room and I’m not sure if I should attribute this to be slightly anal retentive or just comforted in having a routine for the many hotels in which I stay. Number one is safety and locating my exits in case of emergency. I enter the room and inspect it for intruders and odors. I refuse rooms that still have a lingering odor of cigarettes.
Off comes the tie and my airline ID badge, then the shoes. As I take off my watch, I verify that the room’s clock is correctly set; you’d be surprised at how many times I have to adjust a clock. After this, I adjust the thermometer. I like the room to be between 67-70 degrees. In a hot locale, I may turn it down as low as 60!
Now it’s time to lose the uniform, hanging it in the closet. Then I set out the items in the bath room on a washcloth; toothbrush and paste, comb, meds, deodorant, cologne, cotton swabs, liquid soap (I bring my own so I don’t waste the hotel’s on a single use) and like a rock star’s dressing room, it’s always set out in the same fashion. After all, I am a rock star. Of sorts.
Once this is complete, I may need to facilitate…or as some might say, use the oval office. Usually, when I get to a hotel room, I’ve been working a long day—as long as 16 hours. Airplane lavs are disgusting and I avoid having to sit in one at all costs.

Not every hotel has a heliport…but this one does!

As my name-sake might suggest, I don’t like a lot of heat, so the next thing I do is remove the down comforter from the bed. When I started this job 15 years ago, it was rare to see down on any hotel bed in the US. But today, 99% of the hotels in which I stay have down. It gets old ripping the bed apart and making it back every time I’m in a hotel room. The only times I can handle sleeping under a hot down comforter is when I make the room 60 degrees or colder!
It’s at this point that I can do what I need to do. On a short layover, that means going right to bed, as by this point I may have an alarm set for as little as 6 hours later (Flight attendants often have only an 11 hour layover, which is block-to-block, meaning once you subtract deplaning, getting to the hotel, checking in, doing the above settling in, getting up, showering, dressing, getting back to the airport and starting work an hour prior to takeoff for passenger boarding, you’re only left with 6-7 hours for sleeping!)
If sleeping is not necessary right away, I’m usually on my computer to write a story, checking email or chat with friends all over the globe. When I have a longer layover, I really love getting out to explore and take photos or working out in the gym.

Exploring on a layover in Pittsburgh

They are our chance to recharge. They are our home away from home. They are nice, comfortable and if we’re lucky, close to things we enjoy doing if we have enough time to do them. Yes, a nice hotel after a long day flying the skies is just the thing needed between flights.

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Passenger of the Day: Falling from the Sky

It felt like summer when I left my house in Houston. I don’t like it when it feels like summer in the middle of February, but that’s what I get for living in Houston. I was happy to be off to Calgary, a little taste of winter for my 20 hours in the land of Canada. In the real summer, I escape to South America for their winter. Snow birds leave the cold of the northern part of America and head south. I’m Penguin. I enjoy going north for the cold. For just a bit, any way.

Penguin free-falling

The first thing I noticed about the tall young man walking down the aisle was that he was wearing shorts. He was in his twenties, handsome round face under what could have been a military hair cut, those little athletic socks that are barely visible inside his sports shoes and a nice gray sweater. As I said hello to him, he stopped and asked me about first class. He noticed there were a few open seats and had hoped to get an upgrade. I had a strong suspicion that he was not high enough up on that list to get one of the open seats. I reminded him that we were still boarding (in fact, we were still quite early in the boarding process) and that the agent would come upgrade anyone who was already seated in the back. For good measure, I asked where he was seated, just in case (wink, wink).

As it turned out, he was seated in the very last row. I always hate to see the taller ones getting seats in the last row. The seats don’t recline much and in the back of the plane there are a few inches less between the seats than in the front of the plane which makes it tough on long legs, and one thing you don’t want is to have a pushy flight attendant driving home the fact that the aisle space is ours and the seat space is yours, ‘so stay out of our space!’ It happens. Were there open seats, I’d consider asking if he’d like to upgrade.
I used one of my favorite lines when hearing that someone is in the last row, “If you were any further back we’d have to put you to work!” He laughed and thanked me for all the information on first class and sulked to the rear of the plane.
Later, he wondered how long I had been flying. I answered and asked if he was interested in working for the airlines. He informed me that he used to be a customer service agent for a Canadian airline and that he still had a few friends who were flight attendants. We struck up a conversation and I got a thrill from hearing that he had sponsors for his skydiving!

Suiting up with my instructor
“Oh, I LOVE to skydive. Well, it’s been about 16 years since I’ve done so, but I’ve done it a couple of times and it was one of the greatest thrills of my life,” I told him.
I’ll never forget the experience. I had driven out to Delaware with a customer friend from the Harley-Davidson dealership I managed. After a quick class, we took off in an airplane and leveled off around 9,000 feet. People often tell me they would never jump out of a perfectly good airplane. I respond with, “You didn’t see the airplane from which I jumped!” It was a perfectly fine plane, but it was older, stripped of any seats and had seen many flights. Most people would have been leery to take off in that plane.
As we climbed, the instructor got ready and directed me to stoop in front of him. He connected our harnesses and together we scooted to the door. When it opened, I was just a few inches from the edge. I looked down at the ground. A sudden thought came to mind…there is nothing between me and the ground but 9,000 feet of air. I should be terrified, but I wasn’t. There was very little time to obsess over the situation. I felt the tap on my right shoulder; the one that meant it was time to leave the airplane.
I tumbled out and we rolled a few times. I went into the free fall position I had been instructed to go into; legs spread with my soles to the sky, arms out and elbows at 90 degrees like I was being arrested, back arched, head down. Down we went. I was in love. I had expected to feel much like one does when on a roller coaster and the stomach drops. There was none of that. It was just a roll out of the plane and a feeling of weightlessness. Save the intense rush of air that flapped the skin on my face like a flag, there was no sensation of falling. I was flying!
All too soon, I received the second tap and the parachute opened up above us. Now there was silence as we gracefully floated towards the airport from which we had alighted just a few minutes prior. My instructor was a humorous man with white hair and he made a few jokes and then informed me that one of his ‘things’ was to serenade his students. He sang a song that thankfully only lasted a few seconds. For the most part, he just let me enjoy the fall, with the ruffling of the nylon chute over head. I…was…in…heaven!
Landing was simple and disappointing, that my time in the air was over. I loved the fall; so much so that I repeated the experience a few months later in Maryland from 11,000 feet. This instructor let me pull the chord to release the chute, which is supposedly a big deal.
Happy Penguin after my skydive adventure

My new friend in the last row going to Canada introduced himself to me; Eric. He showed me a video on his phone of a jump he had made with a few friends. It was a great video and showed them floating through clouds on their way to the ground, grabbing the feet of the their friends, and falling feet first instead of stomach first. Eric eventually wants to train for BASE jumping and will soon begin training for a flight suit. If only I were I young again!
For me, the chance to go skydiving was one of the greatest thrills I have enjoyed in life. There is nothing to compare with falling free and then floating under canopy. If you ever get the chance, don’t miss out.
As the passengers began to gather their belongings and enter the Calgary terminal, my flying partner asked me if it was cold outside. “Well, judging from Eric’s shorts, I’d say no.” He looked over and laughed and told me his girlfriend would be waiting outside with the car warmed up for him. Good thing, as a blast of cold air hit as we left the airport and I was happy to have my warm clothes…and my memories of falling from he sky.
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Passenger of the Day: Shaken and Stirred

Sunset clouds

Every now and then you’ll get a great pilot who likes to come out of his cave…er…cockpit and actually interact with passengers. They do have a lot to do up there before a flight; check lists, write ups, fuel sheets, weights and balance figures, the walk around, a quick call to the wife and or girlfriend. This flight had the type of captain who came into the cabin at the end of the boarding process with information on the weather at our destination and in flight. He mentioned an area of storms that we’d be passing on our way to the East Coast. I could see 3E’s face tighten. Another example of the captain meaning well and having to make me come in afterwards and smooth ruffed up feathers.
When he was done with his presentation, he returned to the switches and knobs of the cockpit and I began to pick up pre-departure cups from my passengers in first class. When I got the 3rd row, Nervous Flyer stopped me.
The woman in 3E was sharply dressed and very pleasant. She wore a tan outfit with sparkly jewelry, including a corded necklace ending with an elaborate-looking tassel. She smiled often and used pleasantries any time we spoke.
“The captain said it might be a bit bumpy in flight?” she asked sheepishly.
“There is a chance we may have a few bumps. I’m sure it won’t be bad. Do you not like bumps?” I asked.
“No, I’m what they call a nervous flyer.”
“My mother was a nervous flyer when I started this job. She’s great with flying now. I told her how much safer she was in the air than on the ground. The most dangerous part of the trip was the drive home!”
“I’ve heard that,” she said.
I continued, “I actually love turbulence.” She made a face. “I know, I’m one of those…” She laughed, but still appeared a bit nervous.
I went on to explain a little about turbulence and what causes it. I told her to imagine a pot of boiling water. The air can be much like that pot of boiling water, with bubbles of air rising and falling in the atmosphere. When the plane encounters these rising bubbles of air you get turbulence.
She greatly appreciated the visual and said she felt much better, but she’d be keeping an eye on me.
“Don’t tell me,” I interrupted, “you keep an eye on the flight attendant knowing that if they are calm, everything is OK, but if they look concerned, you should be as well.”
“Yeah,” she said.
There is nothing to fear.
“My mom told me that when I first started flying!” It’s something I’ve always remembered. To this day, if I hear a noise from the plane that is out of the ordinary, or I get a call on the interphone from the pilots about weather ahead, I act nonchalant and calm; smile on my face. Even if they’re only

calling for a lavatory break, people in the cabin don’t know why I’m on the phone. For all they know, there’s a fire in the cargo hold, a wheel just fell off, or we are serving only fruit cake.

As if often the case, the pilot’s reports were not entirely accurate and the flight ensued with very few bumps at all. It’s almost disappointing when we get notified of reports of turbulence coming up and then nothing happens. Passengers get up and we advise them, “Please take a seat, the captain has told us that we are expecting turbulence and we want you to be safe.” Then nothing happens and the seat belt sign gets turned off and I look like a liar. Happens all the time. I call the flight deck, “Hey, can’t you make it bounce for just a bit?”
Night flying
Yeah, I like turbulence. I like to feel the plane fly. But, I have hurt my knee when a jolt threw me to the floor. One of the most fun episodes was when I was trapped in the rear of a 747 coming home from Sydney. Fortunately, there were a lot of open seats, so when the plane began to dance through the air during our meal service, I was able to park the dinner cart and take a seat. The plane bounced so much that meals began to fall out the other end of the cart and onto the floor. All I could do was sit there and listen to the clatter.
People have died in turbulence, shooting out of their seats and hitting their head on the ceiling. It can be very dangerous and sudden. So when you are asked to do so, for your safety, and the safety of those around you, please, return to your seat and fasten your seat belt. And keep the over head bins closed. Thank you.
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Passenger of the Day: Emotional Baggage

Penguin in Denver
At the airport in Denver, I was waiting at the gate for my next flight when I saw a woman approach the counter. Under her arm was an over-sized, cute, stuffed kitty. It was white with pink ears and paws and it seemed to be smiling at me from the across the gate room, even though the kitty was upside down under her arms.
When I first started flying, pets were allowed in the aircraft cabin only if in carriers. When I was hired, Adelie and Kipper, my two fur babies, lived in Houston with my father while I was in training. After getting settled in California, I flew to Texas to retrieve them, flying them to their new home in 2 small carriers. The flight was not full and the captain, upon seeing my boys, saved space in the first class closet for them. During the flight, he even came back to my seat in coach to let me know he just looked in on them and that they were doing fine.
Today, humans are full of emotional baggage, and needy, selfish Hollywood socialites have glamorized traveling with small dogs wherever they go. With the

Air Carrier Access Act bringing fines of up to $150,000 for refusing someone with a legitimate emotional need, people now search for unscrupulous doctors for fake emotional pet notes. Some then purchase fake animal assist collars and vests just so they can bring Fido on board and avoid paying the airline fees for pet carriers. What’s worse, some passengers are now allowed to bring Fido out of the carrier and sit them right on their lap during flight. Fido isn’t always well behaved.

Supposed service animals have pooped, bitten others, gotten loose, and humped people’s legs while on aircraft. More and more people take advantage of the system and it upsets those who have serious reasons for needing a support animal, not to mention that it can be stressful for pets. Today, there are groups trying to reel in the abusers, but everyone is afraid of stepping on the exposed nerves of someone who really has issues.
I startled a dog half to death once. She was settled between the owner’s leg and the side of the seat in first class. I had no idea the dog was there, hidden under a thin blanket! I reached down with a ramekin of nuts, pulling out the small tray to set them down. I’m not sure who jumped more, the pooch or me!
Flying during the holidays, I sat next to a woman who had Jesus at her feet. Jesus was a little Chihuahua they had taken in from a neighbor. The woman was explaining to her daughter on the phone how it cost over $100 for Jesus to fly with us today, but she was going to contact a doctor when they got home to get a note so Jesus could fly for free.
I love seeing pets on my flights, especially the kitties. I’m seeing more and more animals (actual animals, not just people acting like them) and usually the animals stay in the carriers during the entire flight. For the most part, no one ever knows they are there. Only a few times have I had issues with other passengers who have allergies, but we usually accommodate them easily enough by moving the affected person away from Whiskers or Fido. So far, I’ve not seen the more exotic passenger pets, but I’ve heard tale of turkeys, pigs, miniature horses and even penguins gracing the aisles of aircraft.
As I sat in my window seat watching the goings on outside my aircraft window, the woman with the kitty walked down the aisle and began eying the empty seat next to me. As she sat down, I commented on how cute the cat was. She hugged it tight and smiled. No hissing, no allergies, no mess. Just a woman and her stuffed animal. I miss the simple days when people traveled with stuffed animals.
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Passenger of the Day: Do Fries Come with that Shake?

A snowy day in Chicago

Nothing like flying over the holidays. Most people are in good spirits. They are on vacation off to visit loved ones they’ve not seen in some time. It’s such a joy to be around those we love and miss, enjoying great meals together, exchanging gifts, playing games, singing songs, full of good cheer.

There are, however, holiday travelers who are the complete opposite. The holidays are stressful. They have to visit family, those miserable judgmental miscreants responsible for years of therapy and perhaps the biggest reason, besides a fear of flying, for now traveling with a service animal yapping at crew instead of flying with a more silent stress relieving stuffed bunny, which just looks ridiculous with that ensemble they are wearing to show up Aunt Bealle and that horrid pleather outfit she wears in an attempt to look 20 years younger. And if that’s not one of the longest sentences I’ve ever written, it must be true!
One of the best parts of the holidays for people on a budget is shopping the post holiday sales. After just landing in Denver, I found myself in line at a store offering up big discounts. It’s rare to find big discounts in an airport, but who wants to buy Santa scarves and snowman socks in May? I found myself looking at tired ornaments, frayed garland and stale cards with enough glitter to make a fairy puke. Maybe it was the bustle of the other shoppers, but I found a reason to be standing in line to make a purchase.
The woman in front of me had an armload of finds. She was a pleasant woman who offered a smile as I took my place behind her. The woman at the register wore a sweatshirt, which, surely was once as white as snow, but now looked like it had missed the weekly laundry for about 4 months. Her hair was a most unnatural color, something between a blonde and red; a look achieved after a few too many hair colorings.
A plane and ugly snow

She had been at the register for some time when the woman in front of me asked somewhat to herself, but out loud, if Miss Sweatshirt was changing her mind. It seemed as if she was buying items and returning them. Miss Sweatshirt turned to look at the woman in front of me, with a blank stare. She turned back to the cashier and said, “Don’t shake your head at me.” For a split second I thought they might have known one another. The woman in front of me seemed nice enough, and her comment didn’t at all sound rude. But Miss Sweatshirt turned again and with a face as ugly as that damned sweatshirt, she said, “You just keep shaking your head until if falls off your ugly body.”

It must have been the sudden shock at such hostility that had inside voice revolt its role and suddenly I found myself saying out loud, “Now, there’s no need to get rude.” Others in line were just as appalled and the woman just behind me said, “I’m shaking my head…look, I’m shaking my head!”
Taking a look at the other line, I decided to move over to give it a try. No drama was to be found here. The cashier was cheery and very quickly I was on my way out. Having to walk past the other cashier with the old grump, Miss Sweatshirt was still in line doing whatever it was that she had been doing. The pleasant woman in front of me had also left that line. I have to admit, I found myself shaking my head; and no, it did not fall off my ugly body!

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