| That's just plain nuts
| Thursday, April 13, 2006
|It's true; I love to travel. I love to visit new places, meet up with old friends (maybe making new friends in the process), and get away from the routines of my day-to-day life. I like getting to airports early (that's my own fear of being late), and I enjoy flying. It gives me a chance to catch up on my reading or to practice not snoring or drooling in public when I sleep.
Things are changing. On my recent 3-hour trips to and from New York City, I was appalled at how low American Airlines has sunk. They haven't started charging for pillows and blankets yet, but they've taken the first step. They've done away with giving you free peanuts or pretzels.
Seriously, how hard is it to give me a little snack for free as you play some Jim Carrey movie over my head? Oh sure, that $4 snack pack looks delicious, but I spent that money on the flight ticket (or my parking or the overpriced airport food).
What? You're saying I could eat before I get on the plane. Yes, I could. That's not the point, though. Think of the peanuts as a goodwill gesture, a token of appreciation that says, "We know you're cramped in your seat and there's a bad movie we selected for you, but thank you for choosing to fly with us."
Robert Wilonsky knows how I feel.
How is that Southwest Airlines is able to give you all the free peanuts and drinks you want and still make money, and American Airlines can't do the same and turn a profit?
Poem of the Day for National Poetry Month
"The Snow Man"
by Wallace Stevens
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
Song of the Day
"By the Sign of the Disceaux" by The Undoing of David Wright
|posted by pimplomat @ 12:14 PM