We Will Begin Boarding Shortly



Welcome to your flight - 1970s

I do a lot of thinking when I'm on a plane. Especially since there's not much else to do while you're cruising at about 40,000 feet up in the air like I was last week with no food, blankets, pillows, music or movies.

So here's a few of my observations.

Why, for instance, when you take off & reach cruising altitude, does the captain turn off the "fasten seat belts sign", but then they tell you that you have to keep your seat belts fastened during the duration of the flight in case they hit unexpected turbulence? Wouldn't it just be easier not to turn the sign off?

Wow mom, that looks good

And why do they still have a "no smoking" light? From someone who remembers smoking on planes (& no flack from the peanut gallery please) I sit there and always expecting that damn light to go off & everyone start lighting up.

Listen up you idiots

And what about showing you how to fasten the seat belt? Is this for people that have never sat in a car before? This actually bothered me so much that I looked it up & found out that they originally did this because when commercial flight first started (& I'm not that old to remember that), cars didn't even have seat belts, so they had to explain how to put that complicated little sucker on. I guess this demonstration just got lost in red tape for the past 50 years and  will always be a part of air travel.



Coffee or tea sweetie?

 And what about the stewardesses - uh, sorry, I mean flight attendants. I remember going on planes when I was growing up & they couldn't do enough for you. They smiled and always looked like they were perfectly groomed and wore neat little outfits. They handed out drinks & food & blankets & pillows... they even used to give you a little pin for your lapel with the name of the airline. (ok - maybe I don't need the pin anymore, but all the same it was a pleasantry that is long forgotten). Now they just grumble about anything you ask them for and look like they just rolled out of bed. Maybe they're just the same ones I remember, except now they're 40 years older.





Can I get your number?


And no conversation about air travel would be complete without a thank you to the terrorists for making the entire civilized world live in fear of being taken down by them. Why, if it weren't for them, we wouldn't have the pleasure of disrobing at security and getting scanned like a carton of milk at the local D'Agostino self check out.  And if you're lucky, (like I was last week)you'll  get randomly chosen to get a pat down. Nothing better than everyone looking at you like you're a threat to the entire aircraft when you get that special treatment.
 

"The captain has turned off the
no smoking sign"



So for all of you that are too young to remember the way it used to be, trust me, it was a lot better, even with the smoke.

I Remember the 60's (kinda)

Me

  I was born in July 1961, around the same time as the first season of "madmen" supposedly takes place. Seems almost unreal that when I came home from the hospital, John F. Kennedy was president only a few months, Marilyn Monroe was still alive (nice segue, huh?) & the Vietnam War was just heating up. Men wore skinny suits and skinny ties & the pre-hippy generation was probably in tie-dye training.



The keepers of the gate

One of my first actual memories is about 1966. It was my first day of kindergarten and I did not want to leave my mother as we approached the schoolyard gates. She assured me (as she always did) that everything would be ok as the nuns pried me from the safety of her arms & marched us into the cafeteria. (I would later find out that's what it was, but at that moment in time I thought it was just one tremendous classroom with a huge kitchen in it).

They made us all stand in one large group, as 2 teachers walked in and said they would start calling out the names of the children that would be in each of their classes.

Not so bad I remember thinking, as the kind-looking older teacher began calling names & herding those kids away from the group. When she was done, she marched them off down the hall and the second teacher, Mrs. Snow (no kidding - seriously that was her name) began calling her classes' names. The palms of my hands started sweating as the group got smaller and smaller and I was still standing there -  holding my brand new little book bag (which contained all the kindergarten essentials - pens, pencils, erasers, a folder, some loose leaf paper, and of course, some cookies - just in case I couldn't make it to lunch).


The 60's were all about skinny suits &

ties. (but not always skinny bodies)

Mrs Snow called out the last name on her list and began walking the group out of the cafeteria. I felt my eyes filling with tears and my face and ears burning as the group walked out the door. I was still standing at attention, just as I was told to do, but no one was there. This was not the way it was supposed to be. This wasn't what I was expecting. 

Just when I thought I was totally lost & not knowing what to do next, Mrs. Snow came running back in & grabbed my hand. "I'm so sorry I didn't realize you were still standing there" she said.  (ok maybe I don't remember her exact words, but they were definitely something to that effect)  I do remember her giving me a hug & walking me back to the classroom with all the other kids.  I don't remember the rest of that day, but when my mother came to pick me up, I'm sure I was full of stories of the great day I had.

So why all the rambling about this day so early on in my life?

Because over 40 years later, there are still times in my life when things happen and I get that feeling of  "this was not the way it was supposed to be" or "this wasn't what I was expecting". That totally lost feeling comes back. Not often, and sometimes only for a millisecond, but for that millisecond I sometimes feel like that little boy standing at attention waiting for his name to be called.

But one way or another, whether I like it or not - things always work out. Just like it did that day with Mrs. Snow.

Welcome to Gerry's World

So everyone has a blog these days. Apparently blogging  is the "in" thing to do. People are SO full of themselves with their blogs these days. They're always saying things like "check out my blog", or "I'm going to write about this on my blog" or "you mean you DON'T blog??".  

I think someone even named their child "blog" recently. (don't quote me on this, I'm not sure if it's true, but I do know someone named their kid facebook the other day, so odd's are there's a little bundle of joy out there spitting up their formula & answering to the name "blog").

Mind you, not all of the blogs out there are so interesting or exciting - so I figured why not, I can be just as un-interesting or un-exciting as the next guy, so here I am.

But I digress. And I do that often. My mind is always thinking of a million things at once. Usually set off by a thought, a picture, music & basically anything else that will give me a chance to think about or remember something.

When I was growing up in Queens in the 1970's, the "in" thing was to smoke cigarettes, wear gold chains have a moustache and (hopefully) lots of chest hair to cushion the gold chains. Pretty much all of those things have gone down the toilet, although I did read something about moustaches trying to make a comeback. But I'm sure Bloomberg will pass a bill banning  those too. 

So where was I....

Right - I'm going to be 50 in july, so I thought I'd better start writing these things down so the world can enjoy everything in my mind as much as I do, and more importantly, before I start forgetting them.

So I'm about to press "publish post" now and become an official blogger. Wish me luck.

PS - I still smoke, have a moustache (sometimes goatee/beard), wear a gold chain, and have a hairy chest. Sorry Bloomberg - give me liberty or give me death.