Tag Archives: Flying

Ten Things Airlines Should Change

I’m traveling this week, and it’s hard not to notice how some airlines have stripped down the comforts of flying to save money. On some airlines it’s so bad  that I’m surprised the seats aren’t just lawn furniture duct taped to the floor. Obviously when I’m elected President, or Sexiest Man Alive, whichever comes first, I’m going pass laws mandating minimum standards of comfort on flights. Here are The Top Ten Things Airlines Should Change:

1. Heated massage seats: Seriously, how great would this be?

2. When boarding the passengers, fill the plane from back to front: This would prevent people from walking down the aisle hitting all the other passengers with their ridiculously oversized “carry on” and from preventing you from getting to your seat while they clog the aisle like a piece of human cholesterol (the bad kind) trying to jam their bag in the overhead compartment. And you first class people can stop your whining now. Whether you get on first or last the plane still leaves at the same time.

3. Have the pilot mix in a loop de loop now and then: Flights are boring. This would spice things up a bit. Hello passengers, please fasten your seat belts and put your hand on top of your drinks.. My co-pilot Bucky just bet me ten dollars that I can’t get this thing to do a barrel roll. 

4. Just let us roll down the window a little bit: There’s nothing worse than sitting next to the farty passenger in the stale, stagnant, recycled air. Sometimes I want to pull down the oxygen mask just to get a fresh breath. We’d only need to roll down the windows a little. They could put a lock on them so we can’t put them down far enough to get our heads out. (who just pictured being in a plane with your head out the window like a dog?)

5. Themed Flights: Just like themed cruises. Costumes, music, Disney characters, whatever. Hooters flights, why not?

6. A USB charging port at every seat: This is the biggest no-brainer ever. I know some airlines have it, but shouldn’t it be mandatory every where?

7. A Shoes on policy: I don’t care what you’re reason is, no one should take their shoes off on a flight. It’s not a beach and I don’t need to see or smell your feet.

8. McDonald’s food on board: Or any decent baseline food that most people can recognize or accept. Airline food is not acceptable and under the Geneva Convention of 1949 qualifies as cruel and unusual punishment.

9. The flight attendants should have sedatives: Not for anxious passengers, but for obnoxious ones. The flight attendants could release it remotely through those little blowers above each seat and the annoying passenger would doze off for the rest of the flight not even knowing why.

10. What’s Your Seat Wheel! All seats, including first class, will be determined by a spin of the wheel at the gate. How fun would that be? There will also be a mystery celebrity on board every flight and the seat next to them is also on the wheel. Congratulations! You didn’t get first class, but you do get to sit next to Dustin Diamond!

abcnews.go.com

abcnews.go.com

If you enjoyed what you read at #ThePhilFactor today please share by hitting the Facebook, Twitter or reblog buttons below. And if you know where the joke picture between #6 and #7 came from, say so in the comments. Have a great weekend! ~Phil

#PHIL2020

Throwback Thursdays! The Interminable Terminal

Originally seen on The Phil Factor 08/10/2013

airplane

“Stop calling me Shirley!” I had to fly this week for work, and as always air travel is an adventure. Figuring that Mondays are busy at airports, because of all the business travelers, I got there about two hours before my flight to give me plenty of time to wait in lines and get some lunch before I got on my plane. All went as I had planned until I got to my gate about 15 minutes before the alleged boarding was to occur. My flight was delayed for an hour. So I got all Edward Snowden-like and went up to the girl at the Cinnabon counter and requested asylum. She didn’t seem to appreciate, or understand,  my brilliant current events humor.

I was flying somewhere for a job interview that I was very excited about and while I sat there waiting for my flight to board all I could think of was the verse from the Alanis Morrisette song Ironic  that goes: Mr. Play it Safe was afraid to fly, He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye, He waited his whole damn life to take that flight, And as the plane crashed down he thought “Well isn’t this nice…” And isn’t it ironic…don’t you think? Yup. Seriously. I couldn’t stop that song from playing in my head like it was on a loop. How awful is that?

My comedic genius was also not appreciated at the security check where, just for fun, when I stepped into that tall, round telephone booth-like scanner where you hold your hands over your head, as soon as it started I screamed as if my skin was on fire just to rattle the first time fliers nearby.

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That kind of behavior may explain why my checked luggage was searched on both my way to my destination and on my return the next day. I had a small suitcase. When I got to my hotel and opened it, it appeared as if the contents had been ransacked by a rabid monkey on Red Bull. Of course it had one of those oh-so-courteous notes telling me that TSA had “inspected” my luggage. My brother works for TSA, so I’m considering photoshopping a picture of him in his TSA uniform doing something terribly unspeakable with the President and putting that photo in my suitcase just to give them something else to think about next time they inspect my luggage. I’m also saving that TSA letter and putting it in my luggage when I pack just to confuse them the next time they do it.

Lastly, if airplanes are so technologically advanced that they can do whatever voodoo it is that makes a 200 ton object float in midair for hours, why do they still use the seat belts from a 1955 Buick Skylark?

seatbelt

If only I had my own airline…

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As always, if you enjoyed your stay at #ThePhilFactor please return your seatbacks and tray tables to the upright position and click the Facebook, Twitter, or reblog share button below before deplaning. Have a great Thursday! ~Phil

Cleanliness is Next To…Phil?

I had to travel for work this past week and as usual that almost always is the genesis for a good blog post. This week was no different.

kid-stuck-outside-airplane-window-blooper

I used to always ask for an exit row seat when I flew because they have more room due to the door there. It was like getting first class leg room for free. Unfortunately about two years ago the airlines caught on and started charging extra for the exit row seats. I completely disagree with this policy. Not just because they ruined my little scam, but because when you sit in the exit row they always ask you if your are physically fit enough to help in the event of an emergency.

First of all,  if I’m going to be taking on the responsibility of helping save lives if there’s a crash I think the airline should be paying me. Secondly it’s very probable that me or any Joe Shmo who sits in the exit row is ill-equipped to keep a level head if our plane goes down. How do they know I won’t just scream and cry with my head between my knees? I’m not saying I would, but I’m not ruling it out either. To be honest, they’ll let anybody with a ticket on an airplane, and I’m not too optimistic that some of the Duck Dynasty rejects who get through TSA’s stringent screening process should be allowed on any form of public transportation, much less be put in charge of helping save lives.  In fact, on a 9 a.m. flight the minute the plane left the gate the woman next to me ordered a Bloody Mary, vodka and all. I’m pretty sure that if the plane went down she wasn’t going to be figuring out how the air mask works.

Now I always choose an aisle seat so that I can at least stretch one leg out into the aisle. When I boarded my flight home Thursday I took my seat on the aisle. A minute or two later the passenger in the seat next to me arrived, stowed her bag and as I got up to let her in to her seat she first tossed a packet of Clorox wipes on the seat. Before she sat down she wiped down the entire seat and arm rests. I was surprised she didn’t give me a quick once over with the Clorox. Then when she settled in her seat she cleaned the magazine pocket on the back of the seat in front of her, put her cell phone in it, took her cell phone out, made a call then wiped down her cell phone and the seat pocket before putting her cell phone back. Aaaah…a germ o’phobe! I thought to myself. Possible scenarios that immediately crossed my mind were sneezing on her, passing gas throughout the flight, taking my shoes and socks off, and falling asleep on her shoulder and drooling.

germ

How does one go through life afraid of invisible “germs” that may not even exist? If someone worries about things so small they can’t be seen, how scared must they be of real, tangible things? I once read that over the course of our lives we inadvertently eat two pounds of dirt.  I figure that if that two pounds of dirt doesn’t hurt me, then I’m not going to worry about too much. Probably because of that attitude I’ve already eaten four pounds of dirt.

I used to work in an office and there were two germ o’phobes. They used Clorox wipes on their phones, their door knobs, their desks and their chairs. I always wondered if they sanitized husbands before sex. The germ ‘o phobes were the ones always out sick. I never worry about germs and I’m never out sick. I believe my cavalier attitude towards bacteria and germs leads to a stronger immune system that will leave me well prepared to fend off a virus-caused zombie apocalypse.

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Jerks on a Plane

Oh it’s a big pretty white plane with red stripes, curtains in the windows and wheels and it looks like a big Tylenol~ Johnny in the 1980 movie Airplane!

 Travel is always good fodder for a blog post and my trip this week was no different. Here are some things I learned waiting in the security line:

1) If you’re over 75 you don’t have to take off your shoes or jacket. Apparently TSA believes that there is a mandatory retirement age for terrorists.

2) TSA also believes that only medical professionals wear scrubs and the rest of us are completely unable to obtain these super secret garments. While waiting in line I noticed a guy behind the cordoned off area in scrubs. Then a few minutes later I noticed he was well ahead of me going through the scanner.

In summary, I’m going to dress up as an elderly physician next time I have to fly. I’ll be through security in minutes.  Unless of course I have to get my hands dusted. When I went through the scanner, an alarm pinged. I quickly checked my pockets thinking I might have forgotten some change. No, I was informed, I had been randomly selected to have my hands checked for explosives. I flexed my biceps and replied, “If you want to see something explosive check these out!” (Thanks to my friend Mike G for that joke)  Needless to say, after hearing that line the entire security area, passengers and TSA, broke out in lighthearted laughter. Lighthearted laughter in the security line? Just kidding, that would be a first.

Almost as soon as my plane left the ground chaos ensued. We weren’t given permission to move about the cabin but suddenly people were getting up and running willy-nilly in the aisle because it was a little chilly. It looked like an elementary school hallway at dismissal time.  Overhead compartments flew open up and down the plane as panicked passengers grabbed coats and blankets. The captain came on the p.a. announcing he was turning up the thermostat. Holy crap, I thought to myself, what a sense of entitlement these idiots have if they think it’s ok to violate FAA safety regulations because they might be a little chilly for a few minutes. If I was the incognito federal marshal on that plane I’d have been tempted to stand up and point my gun at these dolts telling them to sit down and shut up. Or maybe I’d just show my biceps again.

The worst offender of fashion and airline etiquette was Captain Denim. He was a roughly 60 year old gentleman with greasy hair receding  in front but long enough to reach the collar of his denim jacket in the back. He was also wearing denim jeans with the elaborate, bright stitching that draws your attention but also makes you think This guy really doesn’t have the kind of ass he should be drawing attention to. As soon as our plane touched the runway Captain Denim popped out of his seat and took down his Volkswagen-sized suitcase and planted it in the middle of the aisle. The flight attendant  had to tell him very sternly three times to put it back in the overhead compartment until we reached the gate. Again I thought about pulling out the biceps but I figured this wasn’t the place for my particular brand of vigilante justice. And I didn’t want to get laughed at.

Seriously, I do want to thank TSA and the airlines for getting me safely from place to place. They do a tough job and do it well. Writing a blog is tough too and if you like what you read here please hit the Facebook share button below. Have a great weekend!