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A plea to the airline industry I fly a lot and have spent more hours in aircraft and the associated departure lounges than I care to think (don’t get me wrong, I am a regular propellerhead). One thing that really cheeses me off is that creature: The Flight Attendant/Pilot Who Thinks He Is The Next Great Wit. On a recent flight our pilot insisted on mixing up his usual spiel (read the safety instructions, we arrive at X GMT, please fasten your seatbelts) with a sort of annoying, endless attempt at making the whole process funny. You could tell that the passengers were getting restless. One chap sitting behind me shouted out “Don’t give up your dayjob” but it was no good. The jerk went on and on for about 10 minutes before, mercifully, takeoff commenced.
A small plea to any wannabee Bob Newharts out there in the airline business: just fly the goddam plane and shut up.
Okay, I feel better now.
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Who Are We? The Samizdata people are a bunch of sinister and heavily armed globalist illuminati who seek to infect the entire world with the values of personal liberty and several property. Amongst our many crimes is a sense of humour and the intermittent use of British spelling.
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God, you and me both, Jonathan! I haven’t ever had to endure a comedian, but the endless drone who thinks he’s giving the passengers a sense of being in good hands is endemic in the airline industry – especially, for some reason, in the Anglosphere.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking.” The heart plummets earthwards. You know, if he is the ego-driven type – and pilots often are – you will not be able to concentrate on your book for at least 15 minutes. “We (they often speak in the royal ‘we’) want to welcome y’all (they often adopt a Texas accent) on our flight to Los Angeles. Our flying time today will be four hours and 10 minutes.” Yes, we knew that from the schedule.
“This afternoon, we’ll be flying at a height of 30,000 feet.” And? As long as we are high enough to miss tall buildings, why would the passengers be interested? Next comes something even more arcane. “The temperature outside today is minus 20 Fahrenheit.” If this capsule holds together for the length of the flight, why would we care? Can I read my book now, please? “As to the weather today -” you start gnawing on your own fist “we’re expecting a smooth ride. There may be a little turbulence later on, but we’ll keep you informed.” Fine. Can I read my book now? “You may want to follow the flight’s progress on the TV monitors at the front of the cabin.” Yes, and I may want to watch grass grow.
More of this before finally, we know he’s on the home stretch when he says, “Meanwhile, we invite you to sit back and enjoy the flight?” I’ve never understood this sentence. Does the bus driver invite you to sit back and enjoy the bus? Why do they think it is possible to enjoy a flight? Finished? Can I read my book now? Oh, no! “Anything you need, just ring for one of our cabin attendants, who will be happy to help you.” Happy to help me? Have you seen their expressions?
Of the Anglosphere, Ozzie pilots are the most amusing. Americans and Brits the most prolix. French pilots fly in a permanent snit. (Which is a good thing.)
In aviation, as in all fields, brevity remains the soul of wit. I remember one flight from Phoenix to Fresno, a flight that would take us across the Arizona desert, right over the heart of Death Valley. The steward said simply, in the middle of his spiel, “In the… very… unlikely event of a water landing, your seat cushion may be used as a flotation device.”
On American Airlines flights in and out of Puerto Rico all announcements were in both English and Spanish. The Spanish announcements were often much longer and poetically inclined; talking of Puerto Rico as the gleaming star of the Carribean etc.. On one particularly bumpy approach the lead flight attendant warned in English that the approach would be rough and then switched to Spanish and warned the cabin that there had been several sightings of the ‘chupacabras’ in the Rio Piedras area and that we should be careful on our way home.
The only funny one I can remember was a clever pilot who actually april fooled most of the transcontinental flight into thinking, even if just for a second, that we were arriving at NY and not Washington, simply by deadpanning the whole ‘welcome to our destination, lovely weather….blah blah… enjoy NY’ spiel. That was so long ago it was on a TWA!
Since then I have lost all tolerance for the safety demonstrations – I cannot stand listening to what I should do if the plane disintegrates on impact with the concrete, sorry, water – I understand that they have to do it, etc, but it just kills me.
Maybe, if they stopped insisting that my phone had to be off, I could do them a bit of slack. I don’t mind so much not having it on, it just makes me bristle to be told to turn it off for the ridiculously false excuse that it might interfere with the plane’s electronics. Even as a teenager I couldn’t believe than one (and, er, yes, I was still a teenager when mobile phones were already popular!).
So, you think that pilots are doing this formulaic spiel on EVERY flight voluntarily?
Yup, had my fair share of these. Particularly pilot’s whom you image to appear out of the cockpit looking like Russ Abbott’s fighter ace, complete with handlebar whiskers and a trailing white scarf.
A new horror from BA is the personal video greeting from the Cabin Services Director – why? Why? WHY?
At least being a Gold/Premium/Platinium frequent flyer the crew will be slightly pleasant to you when things go wrong rather than completely ignoring you.
Pity the unfortunate Australian domestic passenger. We have two major airlines serving the domestic market – Qantas and Virgin Blue. Qantas is a professional outfit and doesn’t engage in silly antics. Virgin Blue, on the other hand, is insufferable. Their angle apparently stems from the purportedly fun-loving, risk-taking, irreverent boss Richard Branson – so it’s usually WELCOME ABOARD, AMIGOS! LET’S ALL HAVE A FUN FLIGHT!!!!!!!!! *insert several tired japes here* They actually do what Johnathan is railing against as a matter of policy.
Bad, overfamiliar service, lousy seats, crappy food you have to pay for, no in-flight entertainment… that’s Virgin Blue.
I dunno.
I appreciate brevity especially with the useless flight itnernary stuff. (Though the “this flight is to BOSTON, id you are NOT going to BOSTON this would be a jolly good time to let us know” is useful) , but about the only person able to make a joke anymore, from the tme you step onthe airport grounds to the time you leave , is the pilot.
Everyone else makes a tension relieveing joke is liable to be arrested or something, it seems.
Fooey on Airplanes: it’s like taking the bus, without the comfort, leg room, or view.
I resent: “Meanwhile, we invite you to sit back and enjoy your flight.”
Well, given that I’ve paid for the ticket, they are not “inviting” me to anything. I am there by right.
Second, what is this obsession with “enjoy your flight”? I would challenge airline executives to name one thing about a flight that is enjoyable, or even barely tolerable. Yes, First is better, but it is still not “enjoyable”.
I disagree (with Verity? No!).
It’s perfectly possibly to enjoy long haul flights. I really enjoy BA Business Class long haul – decent wines, good champagne, a reasonable meal followed by some excellent port with the cheese course and then put the seat flat and lie back for some decent kip. Arriving back in the UK from the west coast feeling ready for anything.
I’ve not managed to get myself into BA Long Haul First but I’ve heard it’s lovely, from the inflight pyjamas through to the vintage drinks and excellent service.
My favourite flight ever was on Concorde, I enjoyed all 3 hours 12 minutes of that one.
Friday night’s flight from Vancouver to London would rate in the other extreme. Crammed into a broken seat, with crap movies, diabolical food and miserable wine, I really justed wanted to be home.
Flying business or first takes the edge off, especially if you drink enough Champagne. But to call it “enjoyable” when you are confined in a capsule and have had your seat mate chosen at random is rather overstating the case. I have enjoyed precisely one flight in my entire life.
BTW, it’s because English is the international airline language that we have to endure listening to all these announcements in English. Even if you fly Syrian Arab Airlines or Emirates, you still have to listen to the whole thing in English.
Only flight I ever really enjoyed was Concorde to JFK in 200 – and unfortunately my flight companion was a chronically corpulent German with a seriously bad flatulence problem – which somewhat diminished what should have been the experience of a lifetime.
Verity, in BA Long Haul First, as in Virgin’s new Upper Class you don’t have a seat mate, you can’t even see them. You are travelling in your own self contained module.
In BA Business it’s pretty much the same, only a smaller module and you have a dividing screen between you and the person next to you.
Most certainly the only way to fly these days short of a private jet.
It could be worse Johnathan; he could think he was Bruce Dickinson and start singing at you.
NB: For those who don’t know…besides being the lead singer of Iron Maiden, solo artist, writer, documentary host he is a pilot for Icelandic Air. He is the renaissance man we all want to emmulate.
Well, Daveon, that doesn’t sound too gruelling. Still a confining, dreary experience, but at least you have your privacy. Frankly, I think it would be wonderful to take an ocean liner across the Atlantic (not a cruise ship). Sitting down to proper meals, sleeping in a private cabin with a proper bed, tap dancing along the decks with Fred Astaire … oh, wait a minute …
Oh, well, it must have been a very civilised way to travel.
Turkish airlines are the best!
You can be hurtling toward the ground with all the oxygen masks popping out of the overhead like party crackers and there’s nairy a peep from the pilot.
Certainly not in English.
He may issue a high pitched whine in Turkish. Don’t panic. this happens all the time.
However if the people who understand Turkish start moving their sheep and goats to the back of the plane- then panic!
Stuff your Concordes and first class. Turkish airlines is real flying!
Horses for courses. I’d find a cruise a little confining too. Although the food would be better, I must say that I’ve not had any problems with premier class airline food – especially now they’re letting us have real cutlery again and none of that plastic rubbish.