Blog-TOWER OF BABEL

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.
 

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.