Jackson to Washington

I know this ends abruptly. I had planned on a couple of sequences and may eventually get to them.

About ten years ago, I had a job that required a lot of traveling. In fact, I used to log between 300 and 400 flights a year. I was definitely a frequent flier of the first degree.

Recently I traveled to Washington, D.C. Flying has changed a lot since 9-11. Wow has it changed. Following are some comments on my recent trip.

4:45 a.m. we pull off Interstate 20 at Airport Road and drive up to the Jackson airport. I can’t believe my eyes, they have a serpentine entrance to the airport. That’s designed to force traffic to come to almost a complete stop before proceeding. Great! It’s not even 5 a.m. and the security guards aren’t even in place.

I check in and decide to use my retired military ID for my photo ID. Good choice, they waive the baggage fee for service people. Hey, a fine start to the trip. I cleared the metal detector with ease. I still had on my belt, had my snuff can in my pocket, and my medical alert dog tag on a metal chain around my neck.

Then when the call comes, we line up at the gate designated for departure only to find the actual departure is at the adjacent gate. That’s not too bad, but it becomes a real aggravation before I return home.

U.S. Air boards people by sequence. I was in sequence 3 which is the last group to board the plane. Our plane was a 60 passenger jet with two seats on each side. I had an aisle seat. I found my seat and horrors! My seat mate was a 300 pound Bubba. He has on blue jeans, shirt, tennis shoes, and a cap with a camouflage bill. It is apparent the arm rest between his seat and mine ain’t about to be operable due to the thick overhang taking up about a third of my seat.

Anyway, I managed to squeeze in to the remainder of the seat available to me gently rubbing hips and thighs with Bubba. I glance to look out the window and found that Bubba covered that up too. Well, it could be worse. I could have the window seat with Bubba on the aisle. Goodness, I’d never be able to get up to pee if I had to. Yep, the aisle seat is looking better all the time.

The two seats in front of us were empty. A guy a couple of rows up on the other side of the plane was eyeing those seats. I put my hand over the seat back and indicated that I was claiming it if at all possible. As soon as it became apparent there would be no more people boarding, I jumped up and landed in the row in front of Bubba. Wow, I had it all to myself and even could use the middle arm rest and view out of the window.

The other guy found the seat just across the aisle from me so we were both happy with our new found freedom.

The cabin attendant, or whatever they call them these days, was a sweet looking lady in her early 50’s. She’s probably 5’9’ or taller and probably pushing 200 pounds. She isn’t fat, just a bit plump.



She has brunette hair that is obviously colored because there’s no sign of any gray hair at all. The hair is meticulously styled and probably sprayed with an extra large dose of extra hold hair spray. Almost like you see in truck stops.

She walked down the aisle counting heads then walks back to the front of the plane counting heads again. “25” she says. The lady ticket agent isn’t happy with the count, so the cabin attendant did it again and returned to the front to say, “25”. By now she has counted us four times. The ticket agent still isn’t happy, so the cabin attendant makes the double count again while the ticket agent stands in the middle of the front and counts by pointing fingers at each person.

Both agree on a count of “26”.

So, the door is shut and the preflight instructions begin. No script needed. This lady could repeat it in her sleep. I imagine that 25 years ago, she would have smiled, made eye contact, and sounded a bit sexy in her presentation. Not now. Still pleasant but with the staccato delivery of a drill sergeant.

So we push back and the Captain announces there will be a slight delay because we need to be de-iced. Whaaaat? De-iced in Jackson, MS? Oh well, it’s better than freezing up and icing. It’s only going to take a few minutes. At least that’s what he said, but I don’t think the de-icing truck driver had awakened yet.

In a few minutes, the truck leaves the fire station and approaches the plane. It’s a commercial style truck with a bucket lift on it with a nozzle on the front of the bucket. The driver could sit in the cab, operate the de-icer with one hand and pick his nose with the other. He did the back and front of one wing, then the back and front of the other wing, and slowly made his way back to the fire station. He was not in any hurry at all.

With the spraying completed, we inched forward and stopped. By now we were about 20 minutes late for departure. We sat in one spot for what seemed to be a very long time before we started moving again. By this time the sun was rising and the world was becoming light. I secretly wondered if maybe the pilot had to wait for daylight because he was not instrument rated.

Finally we positioned ourselves on the runway and the pilot began to rev the engines. I glanced back and saw that Bubba had leaned forward so his forehead was resting on the seat back in front of him. He looked like he had passed out. When he started snoring, I realized he was fast asleep.

So, away we go. The sun is shining over the horizon and Bubba is in the crash position snoring. It was 6:31 a.m., thirty one minutes past the scheduled departure time.

As we got in the air, the cabin attendant began making announcement about soft drinks and water costing $2 and other items were more. They must be kidding. Last time I flew, it was free cokes and peanuts. There’s no peanuts available even for a price.

There’s one nice thing about charging for all drinks. There is no need to use a beverage cart to serve the refreshments. I counted a cup of coffee, three soft drinks and a water delivered for a total of $9. Man, this new service is a real money maker.

We had a pleasant trip to Charlotte, NC, but arrived 20 minutes late. The cabin attendant announced our connecting gates. Mine was on the same concourse but at the far end. Not to worry I still had 25 minutes to get there. So I walk down to the gate to find that U.S. Air had changed the departure gate to another concourse way across the airport. So I begin to run with overcoat and briefcase in hand.

After a quick 10 minute sprint, I arrived at the departure gate with just barely enough time to board. I was out of breath, sweating like a pig and wheezing from gasping for air. Hey, I’m a heart patient and sprints are not my forte these days. So I board, huffing and puffing. Where’s that damn $2 water when you need it?

Soon we were on our way to Washington, D.C. I had a little over an hour to catch my breath and calm down.