Adventures in Flight: Crew Rest

Finally, the tie is off, pockets are emptied, and my feet are happy not to bound in shoes walking the aisles. The first service is complete and the plane is at altitude en route to a far away destination. It's time for a crew rest.

On long-haul flights, once the initial service is complete, it's time for crew breaks. Crew breaks are sacred. Services are seemingly done quickly mainly to allow maximum time for crew break; that's what many senior flight attendants would have you to believe. When I get juniored into a position I'm not very familiar with, such as first class galley, I can usually get out of it by saying, “OK, I don't really know this position, so I may be a bit slow and the breaks may be shorter...” Someone always steps up and takes the position from me before I can complete the sentence. Don't mess with crew rest!

Depending on the length of flight and how many breaks there are (two or three), crew can look forward to anywhere from an hour to more than 3, out of view from passengers for a rest. Each plane has a different crew rest set up. The best is the 777 aircraft with the crew rest bunks in the belly of the plane. Situated in the center of the plane, one can enjoy lying flat with limited movement felt in flight. While the crew bunks in the 747 are comfortable, they are located at the tail of the aircraft, above the passenger area, and as you may know, the tail experiences more movement as it gets buffeted by the winds in flight. The least bit of turbulence is exaggerated in these bunks. They do have seat belts, and I have feared actually falling out of an upper bunk during turbulence. Shake, rattle and roll!

View down below

 The worst crew rest is located in the passenger cabin, separated only by a thick curtain. The seats don't lie flat and noise is hardly muffled from the riff raff just outside the curtain. Such is the case on the 767, which I fly most on my trips to South America and the 777 that Mother Airline uses for flights to Hawaii, which don't have the bunks in the belly of the plane.

It's nice to get settled in, turn the air on full-blast because I'm still overheated from the service, just start falling asleep, and then the infant that is always boarded next to us starts to cry. Well, maybe nice isn't the word. Or the passenger behind us decides to open their shade every 5 minutes and the bright light in the dark cabin creeps through the cracks between the curtain and the cabin wall like a tiny sun has formed just behind my head. (I think I could actually hear the light, it was so intense.) Or a nearby passenger has an empty water bottle at their feet and every 10 minutes their foot finds it and makes a crackly-plastic bottle sound that in my sleepy state sounds as if it is right over my head.

When I first started flying international trips out of San Francisco in the early 2000s, I watched what the others did and would do the same thing- ear plugs in the ears, eye mask, strip down to the basic uniform and dive under a blanket with 2 pillows. I never could sleep. Maybe it was the thrill of going to a new foreign destination, which back then, was quite rare for me and my insignificant seniority. Or maybe it's as I learned later on, that I simply can't sleep with earplugs in my ears and an eye mask digging into my head. I don't sleep like that at home, why would I think I could sleep like that in a crew rest bunk shaking like a hula dancer at 35,000 feet?

Night time departure

These days, I feel much more like a pro when it comes to crew rest. I prefer the first break, because it's hard coming off of break and going right into the arrival service. With first break, I can get my rest and then get up, have my crew meal (also sacred) and not be a sleepy-head when the second service begins. I also don't wake up very gracefully.

There is one bunk on the 747 known for being colder than the others; I prefer this one. I prefer to be next to the window when we must rest in the cabin behind the curtain; people are always walking past the curtain and bumping into me.

What's fun and entertaining is how passengers always try to move into the empty crew rest seats. I recently encountered a man quite proud of having acquired one on a full flight, leaving his center seat for a crew seat. I stopped by, said hello, and asked where his seat was. He stated this was his seat. I said that it couldn't be, because this was a crew rest seat and asked again where his seat was, knowing full well... He was quite determined and didn't seem to understand, so I asked, “Are a crew member? Are you working this flight?” He looked at me, the gleam in his eyes obviously dimming, “No.” “Then, I'm sorry, but you'll have to return to your seat, crammed in between two very large men on a 10 hour flight. These seats are reserved for working crew.” Inside voice was asking me if I enjoyed crushing human spirits.

Crew rest is sacred, so if you happen to be on a plane seated next to the crew break area, please be considerate, quiet, keep your window shades closed, your baby in silent mode, and for the love of the gods, do not disturb!

Shadows from the skies

Adventures in Flight: Open with Caution

I was attacked on board my flight from Houston! We were on approach to SFO and I was performing my safety checks. I got to row 10 and there on the floor in front of the two occupants of that row was a large guitar case. As you may know, items must fit under the seat in front of you. This guitar case took up the length of all 3 seats!

I was aghast! "Where did that come from?" I asked. "Was it there for take off?" They nodded yes. My flying partner must have missed it in the darkness. Or, sometimes passengers try to hide things with blankets or coats; they can be quite crafty.

Of course, I now had to find space for a guitar case, and this was a plane without a closet. Thank the gods the loads were light. I started opening overhead bins, praying there was one with room enough for this musical annoyance. Each bin I opened was full of bags, back backs, paper sacks, purses, a CPAP machine. Open...close...open...close...full, full, full! Then I got to the overhead bin at row 20DEF.

I was running out of time, so the search had sped up. I opened the bin and before I could react, I was attacked! It came at me with great speed. It was close, but missed me and clunked to the floor with a loud thud, most likely heard by the homes we overflew several hundred feet below the aircraft. It got everyone's attention in the plane.

It was a horn! It was a horn that was about 3 feet in length. It was pointy on one end and blunt on the other, so either end would have been painful. With the light loads, no one was seated in the aisle seat underneath it. The dark horn spiraled like the stars would encircle one's head who might be unfortunate enough to have been clonked by it.

Yeah, one of these! *

What kind of horn was this? Who carries a long, pointy, spiral horn? What the hell does one do with an animal horn? What animal is out there cursing the fact that someone took it (and most likely their life to boot!).

It belonged to the man in 20F, who seemed a bit miffed that his precious horn had fallen six feet. Um, you put the horn of death along the edge of the overhead bin, in front of luggage instead of behind it, and you're going to get mad at me for not knowing this? I don't think so. You can take that bad attitude and shove it in a piece of fruit cake! I was nearly maimed! And what are you...a witch doctor? Why is there an ever-loving spiraled horn in the overhead bin flying through the air at me? Why? Where am I, Africa?

I'm asked, “What's the weirdest thing you've seen in an overhead bin?” Until now I may have answered, a cooler of human organs (which gets the plane a priority taxi for takeoff and landing!), funky hats, musical instruments, decorative canes, fancy suit cases, or once, I did find a flight attendant in the overhead bin, but that was staged. Now I can answer with pride, “A death horn!”

I secured the spiraled horn of death back in the overhead much better than it had been to begin with and eventually found an empty bin for the large guitar. The man placed it in and I started to make my way to my jump seat at the rear of the plane, catching the eye of a deadheading flight attendant. She smiled knowingly at me, fully aware of what must be going on in my head at that time. Guitar cases and attack horns. Just another day at Mother Airline.

I'm sure this plane has seen horns on board!

*Photo not property of Penguin Scott

Passenger of the Day: Curtains!

There are flights, as rare as they may be, when I encounter a passenger who is not happy with me. My smile, charm, and good looks can only go so far, it would seem. Typically, it's a passenger getting butt-hurt over a company policy or FAA rule when they don't get their way, like the “Good Little Scout” I wrote about. Here is another story of someone’s panties in a twist.

I was purser and at the tail end of my service in the first class cabin. The meals had been served and I was picking up the last few bowls of lemon sorbet. I often take a look towards the back of the plane to make sure things are as they should be. There is a curtain that divides the first class cabin from the economy cabin, but it's sheer. I noticed a man standing just on the other side of the curtain. He mostly kept his back to me, but every few seconds he would look into the first class cabin, seeing what the woman in 3E was watching on her lap top and interested in finding out what I was doing.

The sheer curtain behind row 3 of first class.

Upon seeing that I appeared to be done working, he passed through the curtain and approached me, standing in the galley. This shocked me for a split second; long gone are the days when economy riffraff never thought to cross that curtain, but now that it’s see-through, it stops no one, it seems. He was a smallish man with dark hair and just a touch of gray around his temples. He had a thick accent, but I didn't have a hard time understanding him. His first question was about the curtain behind row three. “Is that for safety?” he asked. (Inside voice immediately stated that it obviously wasn’t to keep him out of first class! It’s a good thing inside voice stays inside.)

I explained that it was to differentiate first class from the main cabin and to offer a little privacy for those who paid for first class. He was intrigued about its sheerness, and I explained how that was so the working crew could see the whole cabin, a new feature after 9-11.

He next asked, with a smile, what the curtain was for that partially obscured the galley. “This is so that these passengers (mainly seats 1 A and B) don't have to look at the ugly galley during the flight. “It's also there so I can hide from people like you,” said my inside voice, although it does actually provide a little privacy for crew members to eat their meal out of view of passengers.

He thanked me, all smiles and excused himself to return standing sentry on the other side of the curtain. He eventually took his seat on the aisle in the first row of economy. I soon forgot about him, but not for very long.

Enjoying first class uninterrupted.

Half an hour later, he returned. I was seated in my jumpseat and looked up as he approached, smiled, and asked if I could help him. He pointed to the lavatory, just behind me, suddenly becoming mute. I informed him that the lavatory was at the back of the plane. He looked at me a bit cross, “But you let others use it from the back.”

“Yes, when the cart is in the aisle, people can't access the lavatory, so they can use this one. Right now, there are no carts in the aisle, so I must ask that you use the ones at the rear of the aircraft.” He stood there for a good five seconds, which felt like 10 minutes. I thought I’d try a new tactic. “Do you have a first class ticket, sir?” I asked. “No,” he responded. “Then I need to ask that you use the economy lavatory, thank you.”

I mean, I 'had' just explained to him the whole curtain thing, providing first class exclusivity. Had he been elderly, or of difficulty in moving around, or very young and not able to stand long in a line, I’d have allowed it. But it ‘is’ company policy...and I would expect it had I plopped down first class dough!

He turned and went back to his seat; he did not use the lav, at all. He returned to his seat and basically spent the rest of the flight, which at this point was just less than an hour, staring at me.

When I got up to check on my passengers and bantered and laughed with them, I could see him glaring at me. When I handed out coats and jackets, his stare was iron. When I opened the offending curtain and secured it to the cabin divider for landing, his glare set into me like a knife.

And all the while I just kept smiling, as I always do.

Smile and the world smiles with you.

We landed at our destination and my passengers took their leave of the aircraft, thanking me, saying farewell, shaking my hand. Mr. Curtains was next. While on the jumpseat I had looked up his name and with a smile, I bid him a great day, calling him by his last name. He stopped, moved in close, and asked for my name. “Oh, it's Penguin, Mr. Curtains.” I was still upbeat, as if I thought he was going to nominate me for an award, although I knew he was still upset that I wouldn't allow him to use the first class lavatory. He asked for my last name. I leaned in a little, “I don''t give out my last name. All you need is Penguin and this flight number.” (Inside voice continued, “And make sure you get my name right, I want to make sure Mother Airline knows that I'm doing my job!”)

People began to bunch up behind him. He didn't seem completely happy with failing to leave the plane without my full name, but that's been my policy for over 10 years, after dealing with a threatening passenger. He took his leave of me and I again, with a smile in my voice, bade him a great day.

He couldn't use the first class lavatory, but he certainly could not claim that I was unfriendly in any way, shape or form. I had engaged him in conversation, smiled, wished him well and even called him by name.

It doesn't happen very often, and maybe that's why they always tend to stick out with me, those moments when someone is dissatisfied in some way and asks for my name. And nine times out of ten, they ask for my last name. We don't give that out. I'm the only Penguin, she's the only Sara, he's the only Kevin...working flight 1306. That's all you need to know. Enjoy your day!

View from the window of door 1L

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View to a Thrill: Hello from Denver

View from my hotel room in Denver

When I first started flying for Mother Airline, most of my layovers were long enough to get out and explore the cities in which I stayed. These long layovers are where I enjoyed exploring, did a lot of my shopping or went to see a movie at a nearby theater. After 9-11, the layovers got shorter and to save money, we more often than not stayed in hotels near the airport, not near stores and their sales or theaters and their new releases.

One of the reasons I remember long Denver layovers are for the sales I'd find at the Ross, the flying pizza at Anthony's and watching movies at the 16^th Street theaters. It's been years since I've had a long Denver layover. So when I saw the trip in my line, I was eager to return and explore an area that I know has been revitalized. 

Large hand-thrown pies at Anthony's

What a let down! My first experience back on 16^th St. after so long an absence, staying on the narrow sidewalk out of the sun in temperatures of over 90 degrees, was running past the gauntlet of all the smokers standing in a row, looking miserable, inhaling their cancerous smoke, and blowing it for all the rest of society to consume. Ahh, the mountain air of Col...hack, cough, wheeze...orado!

I had heard from many sources about the increase in homeless along 16^th St. I didn't think much of it. I see a lot of homeless on my layovers. Honolulu has quite a few. I see them in Seattle and certainly when I'm in San Francisco (of course in SF, one can have a decent-paying job and still be homeless!). But oh, my, they have intensified here; to the point where it really detracts from what should be a positive experience. Hand made signs on boxes; shopping carts standing by for treasures dug from trash cans; half naked youth making weird signs with their hands while talking foully to friends a block away as if in some gang; the mentally unstable yelling at the top of their lungs to either no one or invisible entities who might be shouting things back. It's quite the festive scene, and until you've smelled a group of homeless sweating in 95 degree heat smoking cigarette butts found on the ground, you've not been festive enough! Whee-you!

Looking East along 16th Street

I did endure the heat well enough to walk to the end of the long pedestrian street. I got my slice of flying pizza and happened into a Krispy Kreme donuts on their first day to be open. I spent some time in the Money Museum of the Federal Reserve Bank in hopes that samples would be given (and they were...only, the money was quite well shredded and quite unusable for me). I did find a great price on a new pair of layover shoes, just like the old days.

Street buffalo art

There is a lot that is great about walking around downtown Denver. I love the interchange of new and old architecture and the colorful flowers. I really enjoy the numerous brightly-painted pianos left in the middle of the street with ivory ready to be tickled by anyone who passes by. I love that cannabis is legal and enjoyed an occasional wafting scent being enjoyed in public. And I really love the glimpses of white-capped mountains peeking from between skyscrapers of steel and glass.

I'm going to be so rich one day!

And just like that, time winds down. The office workers who were on their lunch break return to their offices. The streets empty just a bit for the tourists and more homeless. Young men and women emerge in sweaty Lycra from various gyms to show off svelte bodies and toned arms and legs. And Penguin waddles back to his cool hotel room to survey it all from the comfort of another layover hotel room window, high above it all. Mission accomplished. I do love my long downtown layovers!




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Passenger of the Day: Is This Thing On?

Taking my position in the aisle of the Airbus 320, I quickly surveyed my audience and set the bag of safety demo equipment on the floor at my feet. There were no empty seats to use, so the floor would suffice; with an aging frame, having to bend down for each new piece of equipment is daunting. I prefer it when there is an empty seat to use as my staging area.

The man seated in 21C looked up at me, knowing what was coming, and asked, “Do we get the enthusiastic safety demo, now?”

I looked down at the man smiling at me, my passenger of the day, and retorted, “Did you 'pay' for the enthusiastic safety demo?” He enjoyed my quip and chuckled, while it also garnered the attention of several nearby passengers.

From up front the purser had begun reading the safety demo and I began to demonstrate how to use the oxygen mask and seat belt (and if you don't know how to use the seat belt, should you really be out in public?).

Your flight attendant is trying to show yous something!

It came time to point out the nearest exits (which may be behind you) and instead of simply pointing them out, I did a slight jump, landing loudly on the floor, and pointed to the exits in a pose that was something between ninja and Elvis. People all over were laughing and now paying attention to me. Mr. Enthusiasm gave me a little applause. He was impressed. “I guess I 'did' pay for it,” I could hear him say to his neighbor in 21B.

People never pay attention to flight attendants on the PA. “Please don't put your bags in overhead bins sideways...” as they continue to do so. “Please take your seats, the captain has turned on the seat belt sign,” as they move from their window seat, making 2 others get up, as well. We could give out the winning multi-million dollar lotto numbers for tomorrow's game, and only one person would hear them...and they would think we were reading the numbers for last week's game. You can't win...there is no winning.

I don't really blame them. Not entirely. After all, there is a joke; How do you keep a secret from a flight attendant? You make a PA. We never pay attention to them, either... but we have an excuse. We usually know what is being said. The purser is welcoming you aboard and telling you where to stow things. The captain is welcoming you aboard and telling you the weather in the city we are flying to, the city I'll only be in for an hour...on the plane...never enjoying fresh air...so why should I care?

Passengers hear this all the time, too. Especially the ones up front. These are the passengers who fly often and use their mile points for upgrades for extra leg room. They know what's going on and how to make things work. The back of the plane are the people who are saving money, who only fly once a year, who are too engaged with their snot-nosed 2 year old and his impending tantrum to care about what a flight attendant is saying. Priorities!

Evacuations at the gate will be done via the jetway.

You may think we don't notice, but we do; those who are paying attention. Yes, Mrs. 24C, I see you looking at the safety information card from the seat pocket, and I appreciate that. Yes child in 20F, I see you looking for the nearest exit behind you and I know you'll get out alive if we need to evacuate. Yes, grandmother in 30D, I see you knitting that afghan and wonder if you could make one for me...it gets cold on my couch in winter!

I was once doing the demo in first class from San Francisco to San Diego. On my flight was none other than Sharon Stone. She looked amazing, was full of smiles and came across as being quite gracious. Many passengers would later ask, “Was that Sharon Stone I saw up in first class?” Why yes it was. And you know what? She paid attention to me when I did the safety demo. I enjoyed her performance in Sliver...and she watched mine in the first class aisle...the only person in first class to do so, by the way! (It was on this very trip that her husband would make the news for getting bit at the San Diego zoo. Karma? He paid no attention as he read during the demo.)

That's why I enjoy making announcements that sound a bit different. I enunciate words slightly awkwardly or infuse a little humor. It's an attention-getter with the aim of getting people to hear what I'm saying. Hello, we're talking to you...is this thing on?

If you really want to see a whole plane of passengers paying attention to the safety demo and the flight attendant announcements, fly immediately after an airline incident. Following any major incident, for about a week afterwards, nearly everyone pays attention...after the Miracle on the Hudson flight, when Capt. Sully landed in the Hudson River...after the tragic German Wings flight crashed at the hands of a suicidal pilot...after the crash of Asiana 214 in San Francisco...I commanded the stage of the aisle like a five-time Tony award winning actor on Broadway!

We notice those paying attention; it happens so rarely. We see those picking their nose, brushing their teeth (yes, I saw that once) knitting, watching movies, texting, reading the Wall Street Journal, and we especially see those watching us. We do it for a reason, your safety...telling you such things as which doors not to open in a water evacuation (passengers in the Hudson opened doors they were told not to, letting cold water rush into the plane). Do us a favor. Listen up for a few minutes. Each plane is slightly different. It can save lives!

Passenger of the Day: Baby Mama

Perhaps it's why she arranged their seating in this manner, as I could hear her in the aisle as I set up the aft galley. She traveled with her husband and two children and commented on the fact that their seating was two on one side of the plane and two on the other. “Well, we should be able to switch seats around a bit. No one will want to sit next to the kids. She put the boys, aged 2 and 4, on one side of the plane and she sat next to her husband. Between them was an aisle and two seats.

This would do for now, so I left them alone and went back to setting things up in the galley.

At the start of the safety demo, I knew I was going to have to fix things in that last row with Baby Mama. When I got to the last row, I found two things: no one else had joined them in that row, and Baby Mama had moved to the aisle seat next to the children. But right after takeoff, she moved back next to her husband. 

Penguin learning how to be safe at emergency training

“Hi, there. I just need to let you know that someone is going to have to sit next to the young children over there,” I said, smiling warmly to her. She protested. “I'm sorry, but an adult needs to be with children of that age, in case the oxygen masks deploy. They need help reaching the masks and putting them on.”

“Well, I can just move over if that happens,” she shot back.

“I'm sorry, it doesn't always happen that way. In a sudden decompression, you won't be able to move over. The plane will be in a dive, things will be blowing all around, sight will be limited due to fog created by the sudden change in pressure, people will be screaming, masks flying back, gasses expelling from your body, flashes of your life whipping by...mass pandemonium.”

Oxygen mask compartment open for repairs

Of course, most of that was inside voice. But she got the picture and rolled her eyes. With a big sigh, she moved next to them. For the remainder of the 3 hour trip, the two adults took turns sitting next to the boys, who never seemed to look up from their entertainment device.

As we began decent into our destination, the movie the boys had been watching ended and the two became a bit unruly; fussing and whining. Baby Mama was on the A side and Dad was next to the boys. I was behind them in the galley getting ready for the double chimes to sound; our queue to prepare the cabin for landing. Baby Mama suggested to Dad that they separate the boys, “Why don't you hand one over here,” she stated. The father silently complied (I don't know that I heard him speak even once during the flight). He picked up the nearest child and began to hand him over.

She quickly shot to him, “Not that one!” Had I liquid in my mouth, I'm certain the spit take would have been one to rival the best comedians. Having no liquid in my mouth, my other option was to double over in laughter...silent but for the sudden outburst of a chuckle. I looked back and my flying partner had obviously heard the comment, as well, for she was nearly on the floor laughing, in tears, having wet herself slightly.

That's some good parenting!

Foggy cabin

Passenger of the Day: Falling from the Sky

It felt like summer when I left my house in Houston. I don't like it when it feels like summer in the middle of February, but that's what I get for living in Houston. I was happy to be off to Calgary, a little taste of winter for my 20 hours in the land of Canada. In the real summer, I escape to South America for their winter. Snow birds leave the cold of the northern part of America and head south. I'm Penguin. I enjoy going north for the cold. For just a bit, any way.

Penguin free-falling

The first thing I noticed about the tall young man walking down the aisle was that he was wearing shorts. He was in his twenties, handsome round face under what could have been a military hair cut, those little athletic socks that are barely visible inside his sports shoes and a nice gray sweater. As I said hello to him, he stopped and asked me about first class. He noticed there were a few open seats and had hoped to get an upgrade. I had a strong suspicion that he was not high enough up on that list to get one of the open seats. I reminded him that we were still boarding (in fact, we were still quite early in the boarding process) and that the agent would come upgrade anyone who was already seated in the back. For good measure, I asked where he was seated, just in case (wink, wink).

As it turned out, he was seated in the very last row. I always hate to see the taller ones getting seats in the last row. The seats don't recline much and in the back of the plane there are a few inches less between the seats than in the front of the plane which makes it tough on long legs, and one thing you don't want is to have a pushy flight attendant driving home the fact that the aisle space is ours and the seat space is yours, 'so stay out of our space!' It happens. Were there open seats, I'd consider asking if he'd like to upgrade.

I used one of my favorite lines when hearing that someone is in the last row, “If you were any further back we'd have to put you to work!” He laughed and thanked me for all the information on first class and sulked to the rear of the plane.

Later, he wondered how long I had been flying. I answered and asked if he was interested in working for the airlines. He informed me that he used to be a customer service agent for a Canadian airline and that he still had a few friends who were flight attendants. We struck up a conversation and I got a thrill from hearing that he had sponsors for his skydiving!

Suiting up with my instructor

“Oh, I LOVE to skydive. Well, it's been about 16 years since I've done so, but I've done it a couple of times and it was one of the greatest thrills of my life,” I told him.

I'll never forget the experience. I had driven out to Delaware with a customer friend from the Harley-Davidson dealership I managed. After a quick class, we took off in an airplane and leveled off around 9,000 feet. People often tell me they would never jump out of a perfectly good airplane. I respond with, “You didn't see the airplane from which I jumped!” It was a perfectly fine plane, but it was older, stripped of any seats and had seen many flights. Most people would have been leery to take off in that plane.

As we climbed, the instructor got ready and directed me to stoop in front of him. He connected our harnesses and together we scooted to the door. When it opened, I was just a few inches from the edge. I looked down at the ground. A sudden thought came to mind...there is nothing between me and the ground but 9,000 feet of air. I should be terrified, but I wasn't. There was very little time to obsess over the situation. I felt the tap on my right shoulder; the one that meant it was time to leave the airplane.

I tumbled out and we rolled a few times. I went into the free fall position I had been instructed to go into; legs spread with my soles to the sky, arms out and elbows at 90 degrees like I was being arrested, back arched, head down. Down we went. I was in love. I had expected to feel much like one does when on a roller coaster and the stomach drops. There was none of that. It was just a roll out of the plane and a feeling of weightlessness. Save the intense rush of air that flapped the skin on my face like a flag, there was no sensation of falling. I was flying!

All too soon, I received the second tap and the parachute opened up above us. Now there was silence as we gracefully floated towards the airport from which we had alighted just a few minutes prior. My instructor was a humorous man with white hair and he made a few jokes and then informed me that one of his 'things' was to serenade his students. He sang a song that thankfully only lasted a few seconds. For the most part, he just let me enjoy the fall, with the ruffling of the nylon chute over head. I...was...in...heaven!

Landing was simple and disappointing, that my time in the air was over. I loved the fall; so much so that I repeated the experience a few months later in Maryland from 11,000 feet. This instructor let me pull the chord to release the chute, which is supposedly a big deal.

Happy Penguin after my skydive adventure

My new friend in the last row going to Canada introduced himself to me; Eric. He showed me a video on his phone of a jump he had made with a few friends. It was a great video and showed them floating through clouds on their way to the ground, grabbing the feet of the their friends, and falling feet first instead of stomach first. Eric eventually wants to train for BASE jumping and will soon begin training for a flight suit. If only I were I young again!

For me, the chance to go skydiving was one of the greatest thrills I have enjoyed in life. There is nothing to compare with falling free and then floating under canopy. If you ever get the chance, don't miss out.

As the passengers began to gather their belongings and enter the Calgary terminal, my flying partner asked me if it was cold outside. “Well, judging from Eric's shorts, I'd say no.” He looked over and laughed and told me his girlfriend would be waiting outside with the car warmed up for him. Good thing, as a blast of cold air hit as we left the airport and I was happy to have my warm clothes...and my memories of falling from he sky.

Passenger of the Day: Shaken and Stirred

Sunset clouds

Every now and then you'll get a great pilot who likes to come out of his cave...er...cockpit and actually interact with passengers. They do have a lot to do up there before a flight; check lists, write ups, fuel sheets, weights and balance figures, the walk around, a quick call to the wife and or girlfriend. This flight had the type of captain who came into the cabin at the end of the boarding process with information on the weather at our destination and in flight. He mentioned an area of storms that we'd be passing on our way to the East Coast. I could see 3E's face tighten. Another example of the captain meaning well and having to make me come in afterwards and smooth ruffed up feathers.

When he was done with his presentation, he returned to the switches and knobs of the cockpit and I began to pick up pre-departure cups from my passengers in first class. When I got the 3^rd row, Nervous Flyer stopped me.

The woman in 3E was sharply dressed and very pleasant. She wore a tan outfit with sparkly jewelry, including a corded necklace ending with an elaborate-looking tassel. She smiled often and used pleasantries any time we spoke.

“The captain said it might be a bit bumpy in flight?” she asked sheepishly.

“There is a chance we may have a few bumps. I'm sure it won't be bad. Do you not like bumps?” I asked.

“No, I'm what they call a nervous flyer.”

“My mother was a nervous flyer when I started this job. She's great with flying now. I told her how much safer she was in the air than on the ground. The most dangerous part of the trip was the drive home!”

“I've heard that,” she said.

I continued, “I actually love turbulence.” She made a face. “I know, I'm one of those...” She laughed, but still appeared a bit nervous.

I went on to explain a little about turbulence and what causes it. I told her to imagine a pot of boiling water. The air can be much like that pot of boiling water, with bubbles of air rising and falling in the atmosphere. When the plane encounters these rising bubbles of air you get turbulence.

She greatly appreciated the visual and said she felt much better, but she'd be keeping an eye on me.

“Don't tell me,” I interrupted, “you keep an eye on the flight attendant knowing that if they are calm, everything is OK, but if they look concerned, you should be as well.”

“Yeah,” she said.

There is nothing to fear.

“My mom told me that when I first started flying!” It's something I've always remembered. To this day, if I hear a noise from the plane that is out of the ordinary, or I get a call on the interphone from the pilots about weather ahead, I act nonchalant and calm; smile on my face. Even if they're only

calling for a lavatory break, people in the cabin don't know why I'm on the phone. For all they know, there's a fire in the cargo hold, a wheel just fell off, or we are serving only fruit cake.

As if often the case, the pilot's reports were not entirely accurate and the flight ensued with very few bumps at all. It's almost disappointing when we get notified of reports of turbulence coming up and then nothing happens. Passengers get up and we advise them, “Please take a seat, the captain has told us that we are expecting turbulence and we want you to be safe.” Then nothing happens and the seat belt sign gets turned off and I look like a liar. Happens all the time. I call the flight deck, “Hey, can't you make it bounce for just a bit?”

Night flying

Yeah, I like turbulence. I like to feel the plane fly. But, I have hurt my knee when a jolt threw me to the floor. One of the most fun episodes was when I was trapped in the rear of a 747 coming home from Sydney. Fortunately, there were a lot of open seats, so when the plane began to dance through the air during our meal service, I was able to park the dinner cart and take a seat. The plane bounced so much that meals began to fall out the other end of the cart and onto the floor. All I could do was sit there and listen to the clatter.

People have died in turbulence, shooting out of their seats and hitting their head on the ceiling. It can be very dangerous and sudden. So when you are asked to do so, for your safety, and the safety of those around you, please, return to your seat and fasten your seat belt. And keep the over head bins closed. Thank you.

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Passenger of the Day: Emotional Baggage

Penguin in Denver

At the airport in Denver, I was waiting at the gate for my next flight when I saw a woman approach the counter. Under her arm was an over-sized, cute, stuffed kitty. It was white with pink ears and paws and it seemed to be smiling at me from the across the gate room, even though the kitty was upside down under her arms.

When I first started flying, pets were allowed in the aircraft cabin only if in carriers. When I was hired, Adelie and Kipper, my two fur babies, lived in Houston with my father while I was in training. After getting settled in California, I flew to Texas to retrieve them, flying them to their new home in 2 small carriers. The flight was not full and the captain, upon seeing my boys, saved space in the first class closet for them. During the flight, he even came back to my seat in coach to let me know he just looked in on them and that they were doing fine.

Today, humans are full of emotional baggage, and needy, selfish Hollywood socialites have glamorized traveling with small dogs wherever they go. With the

Air Carrier Access Act bringing fines of up to $150,000 for refusing someone with a legitimate emotional need, people now search for unscrupulous doctors for fake emotional pet notes. Some then purchase fake animal assist collars and vests just so they can bring Fido on board and avoid paying the airline fees for pet carriers. What's worse, some passengers are now allowed to bring Fido out of the carrier and sit them right on their lap during flight. Fido isn't always well behaved.

Supposed service animals have pooped, bitten others, gotten loose, and humped people's legs while on aircraft. More and more people take advantage of the system and it upsets those who have serious reasons for needing a support animal, not to mention that it can be stressful for pets. Today, there are groups trying to reel in the abusers, but everyone is afraid of stepping on the exposed nerves of someone who really has issues.

I startled a dog half to death once. She was settled between the owner's leg and the side of the seat in first class. I had no idea the dog was there, hidden under a thin blanket! I reached down with a ramekin of nuts, pulling out the small tray to set them down. I'm not sure who jumped more, the pooch or me!

Flying during the holidays, I sat next to a woman who had Jesus at her feet. Jesus was a little Chihuahua they had taken in from a neighbor. The woman was explaining to her daughter on the phone how it cost over $100 for Jesus to fly with us today, but she was going to contact a doctor when they got home to get a note so Jesus could fly for free.

I love seeing pets on my flights, especially the kitties. I'm seeing more and more animals (actual animals, not just people acting like them) and usually the animals stay in the carriers during the entire flight. For the most part, no one ever knows they are there. Only a few times have I had issues with other passengers who have allergies, but we usually accommodate them easily enough by moving the affected person away from Whiskers or Fido. So far, I've not seen the more exotic passenger pets, but I've heard tale of turkeys, pigs, miniature horses and even penguins gracing the aisles of aircraft.

As I sat in my window seat watching the goings on outside my aircraft window, the woman with the kitty walked down the aisle and began eying the empty seat next to me. As she sat down, I commented on how cute the cat was. She hugged it tight and smiled. No hissing, no allergies, no mess. Just a woman and her stuffed animal. I miss the simple days when people traveled with stuffed animals.

Adventures in Flight: I Know What You Were Doing

While you were dancing with sugar plums in your head, I was flying from London to San Francisco. I wore a gold and white Santa hat I bought in Japan. Working in business class I served passengers who loved the hat and were so thankful to me and the crew for working on the holiday. I love making people happy like that!

You were stuffing yourself with turkey, dressing and potatoes, while I was eating more meat than was on Noah's Ark. I left on Thanksgiving for Sao Paolo, Brazil. At the two-for-one happy hour, we met up with a crew from D.C. Drunk on Caipirinha's, Brazil's national (and very powerful drink) we all went to a Brazilian steak house. The salad bar would have been enough to eat, but then came the servers in national garb slicing off skewers of pork, beef, sausage, lamb, venison, duck, chicken and yes, turkey.

While you were opening presents on Christmas morning, I was walking around Diamond Head in Hawaii,

Hawaiian Santa

marveling at the numerous Santa displays in store windows and yards with him wearing colorful beach shorts instead of his furry red suit. Santa in a kayak, Santa on a surf board, Santa only in swim trunks. It was the first time in my life I spent a Christmas morning in such heat and humidity; no snow or snowmen. Finally, I knew what it must be like to celebrate Yule in the southern hemisphere, as, up to that point, I had not been in that part of the world during Christmas.

As you kissed your loved one at midnight with the mirrored ball dropping, I was watching the two magnificent pyrotechnic shows put on over Sydney Harbor. I don't know that I've ever seen more fireworks in one day in my life. The first show was as 9PM. I viewed it from a large hotel room obtained by a crew member from LAX for the purpose of hosting a party for all crew members. For the midnight show, we ventured to a park near Darling Harbor where we could see it from the waterside and view the bridge with the Opera House beyond.

While you were watching Thanksgiving Day football, I was at 36,000 feet sitting in first class eating Mother Airline's version of a Thanksgiving meal. It was not bad for turkey and dressing, with green beans, mashed potatoes and a slice of pumpkin cheesecake for dessert. I wasn't working, so I was able to wash it down with white wine.

Another Christmas in uniform

As the little ones gasped in excitement over Santa's haul, I sat at home on call, waiting for Mother Airline to need me for a trip. I enjoy working on Christmas, bringing loved ones together, sharing in the joy and cheer and, just for fun, wearing my red holiday pin that reads, “Scrooge was right.” For some reason, people always ask what that means. But all I have to say for them to understand it is, “Bah-humbug.”

It's not just the winter holidays. You were digesting hot dogs, potato salad and waving the US flag on the 4^th of July, while I was in a 14^th floor hotel room in San Diego watching fireworks in all directions. It was time to get to sleep for my flights the next day. It was difficult to do, as people continued to shoot off firecrackers, poppers, zippers, zingers, bangers and gongs for hours.

Or I was alone, sitting along the river in Cleveland with the masses enjoying patriotic music, watching children play while their adults drank. Then the rockets red glare took off to bursting in air to thunderous applause and oohs and ahs.

Cleveland on the 4th of July

I know what you were doing on your holidays. I've done them before. Now I'm a first responder, responsible for safety and security on airliners going to and fro. Now I fly the skies circling the globe to watch others celebrate with customs not familiar to me, with foods not typically found in my pantry, with people I don't know but enjoy the company of. We all have one thing in common, we love our celebrations, our family time, our cheer and goodwill toward others. We all love a good party!

I love working holidays. I don't work them all; I tend to rotate...Thanksgiving this year, Christmas next. New Years only if I have to. I know what you were doing. In many cases, I, along with my many flying partners, helped make it happen.

One Christmas in Osaka, Japan

Happy Holidays!

I know what you were doing

I have done it too

Celebrating Christmas

Or were you playing Scrooge?

I know what you were doing

Eating with family and friends

Traveling to be together

Cheering the bygone trends

Each year the circle spirals

And brings us back around

Enjoying all the holidays

And getting out of town

Gather your things and presents

We all love a great surprise

Travel to see your loved ones

Travel through the skies

I know what you were doing

Spending time with those you love

I may not be with folk I know

But I'm as happy as a dove

I help bring people together

Encouraging smiles and laughs

From takeoff to arrival

On a big ole jet aircraft