Telling Stories at 35,000 Feet

It’s Monday morning and I’m sitting on an airplane again, headed to Ft. Myers. It’s a clear day and it’s a smooth flight. The other people on the plane are mostly reading or sleeping, that is except for the two guys behind me who seem to have bonded instantly the way people trapped in a hostage situation probably do.
I’ve had many conversations like the one I’m overhearing in bits and pieces as I write this. The thing about these in-flight conversations is I’m hard pressed to remember most of them. I do remember a 20 year old woman with tattoos all over her body but maybe that’s because she gave me some great material for a column I wrote about tattoos.
Most plane ride conversations aren’t memorable because they are merely a way to pass the time. Time constraints preclude deep philosophical exchanges. I know I’ve passed on precious little wisdom while droning on like the engines of a Boeing 737. No doubt I have received a lot more than I have given. For one thing I’m a natural interviewer. I ask lots of questions and I’ve learned that people trapped in a speeding cylinder at 35,000 feet, will often answer them. Not long ago a woman confided her doubts about a man she had recently started dating. It seemed that when they were socializing with friends, the socializing was more fun for him than the actual date with her. I have to say this time I offered sage advice. “Trust your instincts,” I said. I know. Really good stuff but don’t write it down. It was just airplane wisdom.
This morning it occurs to me that I probably could make these conversations more interesting for me and memorable for my seatmates if I create a fictional version of my life, regaling the person sitting next to me with my imaginary exploits. Why not? Most of the true stories we tell about ourselves lack drama. We often leave out the things that might expose faults or weaknesses. And it’s not like I’m ever going to see these people again. I’ll bet letting my imagination run wild would cure my not so imaginary boredom. It’s worth a try.
“Yep, I’m flying home to Ft. Myers. It’s been 30 years, four months and 13 days since I was home.”
“Really?” My seat mate is already intrigued. “Why so long?”
“Prison: Please don’t be alarmed. I did my time and I am fully rehabilitated.”
“I see. May I ask why you were in prison?”
“Well it wasn’t a white collar crime.”
“Umm, okay…so is there anybody you’re really looking forward to seeing when you get home?”
“Yeah, I’ll be paying a few people a visit,” I say with a scowl.
Maybe too wild? I have this vision of my companion trying to distract me while he reaches for the flight attendant call button. Not exactly what I had in mind. Perhaps I should dial it back a bit until I get the hang of the tall tale.
“I see you’re reading the Wall Street Journal. I can’t help feeling a bit of nostalgia just looking at that headline.”
“Which one?”
“The one about Kellogg’s posting smaller profits than expected. When I ran that company we were very successful. Believe it or not, you’re sitting next to the guy who came up with Cocoa Puffs. Yes, I was sitting on a flight just like this one, doodling on a cocktail napkin, when the idea to add cocoa to Kix cereal occurred to me.”
“Excuse me, but I’m sure I ate Cocoa Puffs when I was a kid and I’m even older than you are. And isn’t Cocoa Puffs a General Mills cereal?”
Wow, this fake life story stuff is harder than I thought. Perhaps a little homework is in order. After all, I have a responsibility to my fellow travelers. There’s nothing worse than having to sit next to someone on a long flight after you’ve exposed him as a charlatan. Especially if he could just as easily be a guy that pretended to be a dangerous criminal on his last flight.
I wonder if anybody has ever told me a fabricated life story between Newark and Nashville? And would I be offended if I knew it? I doubt it. Truth is rarely a necessary ingredient of a good story. If it was, cable news ratings would be underwater. Listen: I’m flying again next week. If you’re on my flight, lay one on me. I’ll try to come up with better lies for you, honest.

Copyright 2010, Len Serafino. All rights reserved.

Flying Soon? You'll Survive

I’ve been reading a book entitled The Survivors Club. It’s all about why some people survive and others don’t. It’s a fascinating read. One section that really got my attention was the one about flying. As someone who flies regularly, I was more than a little bit interested in learning anything I could that would improve my chances of surviving a plane crash. I know what you’re thinking. Is this discussion absolutely necessary? Let me start with the good news.
Everybody doesn’t automatically die when a jetliner crashes. The survival rate is as high as 95%. Even in the most serious crashes more than 76% survive. And, your chances of dying in a plane crash are only about one in 60 million every time you fly.
In spite of such encouraging news, Ben Sherwood, The Survivors Club author still felt it was important to give his readers tips on how to make sure you are one of the survivors in the event of a crash. Here are some of his suggestions along with a bit of commentary from this observer.
Recognize that the first 3 minutes of a flight and the last 8 are the most critical. Okay, that means you’re most likely to encounter a problem during takeoff and landing. That’s when you should be at your best, ready to jump out of the plane as soon as it stops careening along the runway just short of long term parking where your car is waiting. Most flyers are so nervous about being confined to a metal cylinder traveling at 500 MPH that being alert is the exact opposite of what they want to feel. They want something to calm them down.
If most flyers had their way, the security checkpoint would offer a shot from a tranquilizer gun right after the X-ray. Isn’t that why every airport I’ve ever been in has a sports bar? No matter what time of day it is, the bar has customers. A couple of vodka martinis not only take away the jitters. By the time you step on the plane you’re convinced that should the pilot bail out, you could guide the plane to a safe landing on any runway including I-75.
The author also recommends that when the flight attendants are giving you the safety instructions you should pay strict attention. They are trying to help you save your life. Maybe so but I never detect even the slightest sense of urgency in their voices. They might as well be talking about a recipe for macaroni and cheese. If they want to get our attention maybe they should begin their announcements by saying, “Thank you for flying with us today. There’s only a one in sixty million chance that you’ll die but just in case…
And honestly, does anybody really believe the seat cushion is a flotation device? If I’m taking anything with me when I jump off the plane I’ll take my chances with my laptop. It’s lighter than the seat cushion and, resting my chin on that as I float through the debris sounds a lot more appealing then putting any part of my anatomy on a well traveled seat cushion. Plus with wireless access to the Internet maybe I could get a few emails done while we wait to be rescued.
Speaking of seats, which seats are the safest? Conventional wisdom says it’s the back of the plane but government experts disagree. According to a study, done at the University of Greenwich in London, survivors move an average of 5 rows before they escape. So the best seats are within 5 rows of the nearest exit. With this kind of information available why are any of the seats more than five rows from an exit? Are the airlines too cheap to add a few exits? When they make seat assignments are they telling me the truth about which seats are available or do they have some formula based on age and looks that determines how far you sit from an exit? That might explain why my seats are always 14 rows from any door including the bathroom.
Here’s one I completely agree with. Make sure your seat belt is properly fastened: buckle your belt low and tight across your hips. If only the shuttle bus from the parking service had seat belts. Talk about a harrowing ride.
Plane crash survivors are Darwinian types. They wear lace up running shoes and they drink a caffeine drenched protein supplement moments after they board. Members of the survivor’s club are prepared to climb over seats and force their way past people frozen with fear and blocking their way out. I wonder if they use the seat cushion to help clear a path.

copyright 2009 len Serafino. All rights reserved.