John W Mader
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FLYING AINT WHAT IT USED TO BE

12/12/2012

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I am on yet another trip heading back to L.A., which is  part of the biz. I like  L.A., but the thing that sucks big sweaty
monkey nuts is the flying. Don’t  get me wrong. I’m not afraid of flying. It’s  the hoops ya jump through to get
on the plane that piss me off.

I had a  10:30a.m. flight, so of  course  that means ya have to arrive early for the body cavity check. I  appreciate the
need for security but there is something   wrong when you see a  line of  full grown adults standing around in their socks because their shoes may  be  lethal weapons. On a brighter note, I now know I don’t have colon cancer. 
 
My laptop gets molested in case it might contain something other than my   usual ramblings. Sadly, the only bomb in my Dell is my writing. Then my belt,  my  aforementioned shoes, my shaving kit, my book written by John Stossel
(large  print so it’s easier for liberals to read), my cell phone, you name it.  If it  has anything to do with human dignity, it gets removed and checked.


Not  that I’m bitching. The high school graduates and illegal immigrants running security are  polite, but  come on for God’s sake! Is my tube of tooth paste really a threat  to national  security?

So after being dehumanized by an overly  paranoid society, I  get on the plane. Why? Why? Why? Why is there always some  idiot that can’t read  the notices that says,
 
“If your carry on is larger  than X, it must be checked.” 

Fuck bombs and box cutters! The real terrorist is  the fat lady from Spokane with the bag so  large it can carry a dead body, who  insists on trying to stuff the corpse into  the overhead compartment. 

The result is that a flight of 240 people is  held up because the cow in  aisle 9 can’t hump her coffin on wheels into a space  barely big enough for a  lunch box. So everyone from aisle 10 through 44 have to wait. Of course, she has
friends of the same mind set randomly spread out  through the plane so this  repeats over and over again!

Ya wanna make air  travel friendly? Shoot  the fuckers that insist in carrying a garment bag onto  the plane. Check your  baggage at the counter, you waste of skin!

Can we  be candid for a  second? Planes today are nothing more than buses with wings. The  moron that
designed the seats is clearly related to the cow lady from Spokane with the luggage.  Only a sadistic asshole or an  absolute short-bus-riding retard makes the seats  so small that even a malnurished, anorexic  child  would have a hard time  sitting in them without being jabbed in the ribs by his  or her neighbor every 3  minutes!

And you can’t tell me that the pilots  don’t go out of their  way to find shitty turbulence, either. Granted, most of  these guys are  ex-military. I appreciate the fact that a 737 isn’t as much fun  to fly as an  F-18. But ya know what, jet jockey? You are making between 150 and  250 Gs a  year, in large part due to the training you received at taxpayers’  expense so  you could take on horrible threats like the Iraqi and Afghani air  forces. 

Oh, how awful those dogfights must have been! Spin me a tale,  you brave  soul you... Find me some smooth air, Roger Ram Jet! It’s a five hour  flight, and I need to try to walk down the aisle without getting hit in the nuts
  so I can return the flow of blood to my legs after sitting for three solid  hours  trapped next to a pointy elbowed fat person with B.O. 

(...sigh...) 

So, we finally land in L.A. I spend a lot of  time here, and it looks like I will be spending more. Sunny and warm in
L.A.?

 Ha! Not in February, baby! Cold, rainy, overcast with mudslides.  Mmmmmm! Gotta  love it! It never fails that I get to come out during “Monsoon  Season.” I get  to my rental car, turn on the radio only to hear,

“This could be  the worst  storm in ten years folk’s. Har har har!”

...joy... 

L.A. radio DJs must die. I  don’t know if Rick Dees intentionally  created the on-air personality that  permeates the airwaves here, but they all  mimic him. Even the chicks do it.  Dees should be put on trial for war crimes  and  summarily shot. Har har har!

“So what has all this led to?” you  ask. 

I can’t say. “Nondisclosure agreements,” don’t ya know. It’s a  big,  enormous, tippy-top secret. So don’t tell any body... ;-) 

Later,
Mader

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