Blog-TOWER OF BABEL

My house has been taken over by the untrainable. You have to be quick in this place to get anything, i.e. food, shower, a nap, solace or shoelace. I get up, there is someone in the shower. I go to the gym, get back there is someone in the shower. I have no idea who is in that shower, My son seems to fit a lot of orphans in his 10 X13. saying stuff like " but mom, they have no heat, their parents  beat them, they live  in a trailer that is not safe from the robbers" Robbers ????/ IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD?  

My snack and drink are gone, remnants in the trash. My gym sock drawer is empty, no comb or brush anywhere. Vitamin water gone, dove bars gone, I was thinking of constructing a safe room with my stuff, comb, brush, chap-stick, scissors, pens, paper, Advil, vitamin c, sunglasses, floss, M and M’s, licorice, and gum. I can never find anything, it is strewn about. 

Dinner tonight was exciting. I was defrosting 3 Chicken Parmesan from the deli. I hear something drop in the kitchen. There is no one here but me and the frigging animals, dog cat -X2. The dog runs past me, chewing a frozen Parmesan cutlet. I have to tackle this bonehead to get my food back. I”lI feel like I live with hillbillies. !

     It has been a long year. I thought I would be further along, financially and career wise, but I am not.
I send out resumes what I call the ABYSS. You know, the sites, PlaneJobs.com, indeed.com, CareerBuilder.com,  Monster.com, Avination.com, NBAA.org, all of it.  

          I have dreams, where I am standing in a fog ridden line, it serpentines at 90 degree angles, my glasses are broken, my body heavy, my feet shackled in grey murk,  I look back, and there from what I can see are at least 500 people, all shapes and sizes, wearing a navy blue suit, page boy haircut and wings to the right. The line in front of me is the wall of china. I have no snack and no hope.....

        Except when my friend and my flying coach, Cinna Bon (an alias) but same initials, calls me. We bonded over the 2009 layoff of anything living. She always knows to call when I am about to stick pins in my eyes, or microwave my resume or when i will not get out of my pajamas or my own way, and she always champions me to wake the F---- up and get rolling.  She is Winnie and I at times, is that blasted grey donkey, E OR, from Winnie the Pooh .

    She got a job, I think in September 2010 with a really good solid company. When she got it, I was so so  happy on one hand, that she made it, but sad on the other, because now she would forget about my dreadful existence of nothingness and dust. But not my Cinna Bon. I think and hope I have inherited her for life. She is a victim cohabiting with male moody teenager. like me,  and soaring throughout this godforsaken life with a irreverent, crazy sense of humor paired with "I give a shit about other people so screw off bitches" We sort of have fashioned a club, the flight attendants, who do not need a BROOM to fly. The NBs, or non bitches. There is Cinna, Holly, Denise and a few others. We all want to help one another, at pretty much, any cost. No job, too big or small for us. The one sterling rule is "to never turn your back on a good person, and never screw anyone over." It is the "christ to aviation’s antichrist. It works. It is CODE. Like what the Marines speak of in hushed tones, and a simple nod of their lager heads. I am a pleased that the end justifies to means.

   I feel that Cinna bon has on a weekly basis, given me the soul to play any role in life.  The incredible beauty of this story is twofold. I have only met her once, outside if FlightSafety, and I feel like she will always make everything better.

I think people like us who fly like chance but brief encounters. I spend a considerable amount of time alone, which I like. I am actually good at it.

    I love people, I just do not want to be with them 24/7. I have a few days off, wander around doing errands, getting roots done, teeth cleaning, drop off library books, cook . sleep. email, fashion surf, make a few choice calls. But when I get a trip, I get thrown into a plethora of catering, new pilots, line people, nannies, chauffeurs, dispatchers, baggage handlers, assistants, assistants to the assistants, kids, babies, passengers young and not so young, the houseman, the yacht captain , customs agents, crew changing flight attendants, hotel checkin people, rental chair agents usually named brad, todd or heather, and whatnots. When I am home, I only see and interact with the same 10 people.

     I feel like I am in a play with actors walking across my stage, shutting or slamming doors, props of food, coats, umbrellas, briefcases, dogs, and the occasional chair to sit in. Flying really is a very polite spectator sport with second billing. I like to remain in the eves of the structure, appearing when needed or not. I want them to have a good time ,however limited it may be. It does not bother me if the audience does not remember me, I am just the stand in. The real flight attendant is on vacation.

    When we takeoff, the curtain comes up and when we land the curtain descends. Intermission is when the passengers are in a deep sleep, or one hour after they have eaten. It becomes quiet, and the actors take a rest to change shoes, reapply sunscreen, have a meal , readjust makeup,  brush their hair, or have a cup.

At the end of the final scene, the stadium empties, ticket stubs strewn and the lights go down.
A day well worked and none forgot their lines.

This is in reference to the response of T, who I used to know when I got out of the Air Force in 1990. I brought T a very precious white german shepherd puppy in the beginning of our relationship. T has a much better memory of that time than I do. That was a very troubled time for me, being sick and having to deal with a lot of unresolved family issues that continue to haunt me to this day. I wrote that Cat and Dog blog too soon after surgery and I did not mean to make light of Magic's life and his sudden death. 

I will contact Bruce and Nancy, who sent me a well deserved rebuttal and I will make the proper apologies and obviously have now gotten the facts straight. This blog is here to amuse people and make them think. I certainly did not perform this measure in my cat and dog blog. I have learned from this unfortunate debacle, that I should reread and edit, not deter or offend my readers with anything but the truth. 

Back in 1990, I gave a dog as a gift but was not instrumental in raising it. He had 1 master and one master only, and that was T. No one loved this spirit dog more than T, and It is sacrilege to divert from this fact. I meant no harm, and have learned a huge lesson here on Aug 6th/ 2011. Sometimes I just have my head up my ass and rush thru things thinking there will no repercussions. I was wrong. I am a shit and I have caused pain during this written blunder. Any further correspondence can go to frogkiss100@yahoo.com. 

Again, truly deeply sorry. 

Betsy 

I was busier than a one armed paper hangar for Jan - Jun, averaging 16 days per month (do not ask me where that money went). Now, there is only sagebrush in my bank account, fumes and dust from days gone by. I cannot even get arrested and if I did, I would have scrappy nails and roots, due to the choice of grocery over beauty and its monthly price. I now call people I have never met in flight departments and tell them my days free. I throw a few days in for myself so they do not think that I am a total loser. It does not help that Obama, who I VOTED FOR, rambles on and on about corporate jet tax. I can see corporate jets lining up in a sidewalk sale, a 2 for 1, hanging upside down on a metal rack, because they simply..... went out of season.

Where are we going to end up? A temp job assignment and maybe the a/c is going to sold, already is for sale, there is a lien on it, or the company has not paid its bills, or the pilots are controlling maniacs, or the last flight attendant went insane. I cannot blame him or her in this arena. Flying used to be so NORMAL, no backstabbing tolerated, if so, you were fired. Now, they get promoted for the stabbing. How do you know where a job called HOME could be? I thought flying would always be there for me, now I do not know if I can be there for it. Can I ever understand how this muck and mire happened?

How did it get to this final dead end? Has our integrity gone missing?Can I find mine on a milk carton? Half these flight departments, have someone missing the sensitivity chip, the one who was cagey enough to survive all the layoffs. You, have to kiss their -----, but at what price can you stand yourself?
 

I have become quite sentimental over the last few months. I have pondered the last twenty years of corporate work. When you showed up for on interview, people told you that they were thankful that you could make it. They laughed and joked, told old stories of bizarre flights and they hired you right away. They gave you a uniform that you were not ashamed to wear, like Brooks Brothers, or Ann or Calvin Klein, you were given an expense account (not that of a supermodel) where you could actually eat and maybe wash the great food down with a few glasses of vintage red.

Crews had your best interest at heart. You got two weeks off if you got married and as long as you needed to have a baby. The carpets and interiors of the jets were new and the wood sparkled. The supplies to perform you job were unlimited, and if you got sick, they filed nothing and you still got paid. Catering was whatever the passengers and crew wanted. The crew ate what the pax ate. There was never a compartmentalized box lunch with mystery meat and polyester bread, with token shrunk plum and saran wrapped brownie from 2009. The hotels smelled good, the lobby with marble flooring and a great staff. They remembered you and what you drank, and your room number without reminding them, people acted looked better and stood taller back then. Room service was an event to witness and you could leave your shoes outside your room to be shined. The bathroom was larger than my present hotel room. There were sometime heated towel racks and hot pipes to warm up the bathroom floor. All these things required thoughts of the guest.

Now, it is suggested we live on 25-50 dollars a day. whether in Chicago or London, no dry cleaning, no movie, no snack and no love. If catering is over 50.00 per person, they do not want to pay for it. No magazines, no cell phone, not internet,  imported chocolates or bathroom amenities, no floral, no eyeshades, no linen, no fine china, no mileage, no tolls, no no no no.

Are we headed to a socialist flying position? Am I supposed to fill up on the vending machine honey bun or Oreos packet? The FBO provides popcorn, apples, cookies, creamers, coffee, tea bas. pens, and mints. If I fill up on these comp items, will I be dead by next year? Or will I live long enough to be told I do not get any Medicare or Social Security, because the government ran out of money? What a choice.

When you see that 25 year old flight attendant in the FBO, you can smile at them and know that they will never know what we had. It is sad in a way. Her life will be filled with only cut rate hotels with see thru towels with no fabric softener,  Applebee's, Ponderosa, a dirty uniform from Cintas catalog, a cell phone bill, no movie, no pillow chocolate, 40 watt bulbs, a banner across the toilet saying it has been sanitized, a broken alarm clock  and a broken attitude.

We knew what the days of Camelot were, and the memory is forever mine. I have lived at the Peninsula, The Mandarin. the Ritz, the Greenbrier Resort,The Park Lane London, The Hotel Gansevoort, they were all the bomb. I can see for miles in my memories.
 

I have discovered that I do not like to say no to flights that are very hard to man. 

A company asked me to fly on Easter Sunday and since this holiday is not big in my family, I said yes. Ben is past the point of caring about Easter egg hunts and the standard chocolate basket. He usually goes with his dad for the day. So I traveled to MMU (2 hours) to take a dead head flight from MMU to New Hampshire to pick up 1 pax and bring him back to MMU. Sounds simple, right? One thing I forgot about, I landed at 530 p.m., left the hangar at 630, I am 90 miles for MMU. I sat in my car for 6 hours in traffic. 

The Tappan Zee Bridge had a major accident, so I opted for the George Washington Bridge. I sat so long my butt was afire, my brake foot numb. It was now 1230 a.m., the next day. I sat at the Fort Lee exit for another hour before I just gave up the fight. I had to wait another 45 minutes to get to the next exit, to do an illegal u turn. There must have been a major accident, to this day I will never know. 

I ended up in the hotel from hell. I did not want to spend and arm and a leg, but this one was for the books. The Travelodge at Fort Lee was something from a Quentin Tarantino movie. There was a bullet proof checkin window in the lobby, "no checks accepted" sign behind the managers desk, and fly paper , yellowed spiraling down over a 60 watt bulb. At this exasperated point, I did not care. I shut my eyes, turned my cheek, and said " just do this for 5 hours, until the traffic stops." 

The clerk, was super nice, he asked if I wanted smoking, did I want the room hourly, and that there was free breakfast in the morning. It room was $69.00, not bad for a hotel 12 miles from NYC. The room was dismal, pea green chenille bedspreads and yellow shag carpet, with grayish lamp shades housing a 40 watt bulb. I took the dry cleaning bags off my recently cleaned uniforms, and laid them on the bed to prevent the bedbugs from biting the crap out of me. If these walls could talk!  

I slept in my clothes and raincoat, complete with socks and shower cap. And I passed out for 4 hours until the neighbors next store decided to come back at 5 am, to hold a very liquored argument outside my door. I have a baseball bat in my truck and I wished I had brought that in as part of my survival gear. They eventually went away, passed out or died of bedbug poisoning. I had to check out, they did not have enough staff the put the bill under the door. The lobby with the free breakfast was booked with tired and hungry prostitutes. I looked too shitty to pass as one, I think. 

I left, no bedbugs, and was really glad to get back into my car and speed home. This one was one for the books. 

Ever felt like you forgot how to fly? I have not flown in over 1 month, due to moving, marriage and flu, in that order. I was called at 3 am to fly, during that 24 inch snow storm. I could not see my car in the driveway and my little hamlet of a town had not been plowed yet. So I could not do that one. Then I got called to do a 4 day over super bowl weekend, I was moving , the movers were already with me. So that was a no. Then I got a call for Feb 14-18, I was getting married on the 19th - I did not take it because it was too close to wedding date. I never missed my own wedding before. Talk about hot water, a lot of apology and disappointments. 

So now I have a trip leaving March 2- 10. I am at a loss. What did I do before that was so clockwork? My groove is gone, the timing is off, and my checklist of shopping has fallen a bit. Will they know? Probably not. But when you have been living in a house with regular doors, toilets, stoves and ovens, you get clumsy when on a corporate jet. You bang your knees and head a lot. I feel like Gulliver in a shrunken tube - a bull in a china shop. 

Will I fit and succeed? I will let you know. 

Corporate flying is slow right now, or the timing is off. I got a call at 300 am 2 weeks ago to fly, we had 23 inches of snow, un-shoveled, an asap trip. Needless to say, it was a no go for me. Then I was offered a 1 week trip SINT MAARTEN - trip, while I had a 2 day Ireland turn. Then, I had a juicy cushy 5 days in DC trip, during the time the movers were coming. If you cancel on movers 10 hours prior It can get costly. I moved my movers twice due to snow. I could not do it again, besides, I had a deadline to get out of where I was. 

So to be frustrated or not? What good would it do? The only cure to this is to jockey for more trips in the future. To say, "I could have made $6,000.00 in February” will only make you want to kick your dog. It is what it is. Fate, luck and go forward with plans. We all know that January and February are a bit slow. 

For the 10 days I could not work in February, I will make them up next month. Money is money, and you just have to stockpile a bit in your savings for lean months. August always is slow for me. So in the past two years, i worked like a pig dog in July and go away in August. I do not even sweat August anymore. 

So if you know your trend and the trend of private flying, you will stay abreast. be more sane and not have to worry about nothing coming in. It is my theory on corporate prepare and repair. 

NBAA Scholarship helps and now you can get yours.  

I was absolutely delighted that I received my first pick of a scholarship, FACTS training a couple of years ago! If there was no hope of a scholarship, I do not think I would have gone at all. Money is too tight right now. There are companies out there that only require this training every two years, but it would have lessened my chance to fly. I would have decreased my income by 50 percent. 

Each year, when you think you cannot learn anything new, some new knowledge presents itself. Training rekindles my confidence, self esteem,and willingness to excel.

So go to www.NBAA.org and look for the Flight Attendant/Flight Technician Scholarship you could be one of the few to receive one just like I was.