Flying Off the Handle About Flying

If you travel as much as I do you have heard the pre-flight instructions so many times you can recite them in your sleep. I have heard my comedians highlight the funny bit that encompass these delightful instructions, like the note on the emergency instruction card telling you, “If you can’t read or understand the instruction card, please notify a flight attendant.”

I have let these items go but there is one thing that is bothering me more and more each time a fly. The fact that the Pilot feels the need to get on the intercom and greets everyone, “From the Flight Deck.” I am happy to know that he knows where he is. Is he hoping that by telling us he is in the “Flight Deck” we will find great comfort? If he doesn’t know where he is, I am not sure I want him flying this plane.

It also bugs me when he is supposed to be flying this bucket-o-bolts and he comes on the intercom to chat with us some more. “Hello again from the Flight Deck. We have reached our flying altitude of 39,000 feet and we expect a smooth ride.” Who cares how high we are flying as long as we are clearing stuff.

Then this guy must be really board because he, all of a sudden becomes a tour guide. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you look out the left side of the plane you will see the Grand Canyon.” That would be cool if we were not supposed to be flying from Indianapolis to Atlanta. “We’re flying over Nashville, Tennessee right now.” Again, as long as we are clearing it, I don’t care.

None of this would be worth it if it weren’t for the old guy sitting in the seat next to me. You know, the one that ate six cloves of garlic before the flight and is now sleeping with his head bobbing next to my shoulder as he snores his garlic breathe into my flying comfort. I wish the Captain would get on the intercom and tell the old guy my name is not, “Mildred.”