‘Panto’ is short for pantomime. Panto season is a thing in the UK and Ireland, led by local, amateur dramatics societies. In any case, I find this patently funny, especially coming from Sondheim.
Panto Season
Boneyard
Last week we flew past Davis Monthan Air Force Base, home to the somewhat famous aircraft boneyard. The photo captures a portion of the boneyard, filled with billions of dollars of aircraft, laid to rest. As visually impressive as it is, it does not evoke in me a sense of pride to see such largesse, as it’s a poignant reminder of the choices we Americans have made, of what we have given up in favor of a vast military industrial complex. The United States ranks 59th in the world, behind Sri Lanka and Algeria, in life expectancy; imagine how amazing could this country be if our government spent as much time focused on the health and well being of its citizens, as they did on military power projection.
Math
Overheard while flying across eastern Texas today:
Air Traffic Controller: “Cirrus 823RC, switch to Houston Approach, 124.25.”
Cirrus 823RC: “Roger, Houston Approach, 124.55.”
Controller: “Cirrus 823RC, that’s 124.25.”
Cirrus 823RC: “Roger, um, 124.35. No, 124.25. Sorry about that.”
Controller: “No problem. Math is hard.”
Carey
Cattle Pens
On my recent cross country from Mississippi to Wyoming I stopped by Pratt, Kansas for fuel. Their airport diagram is below, with an innocuous note on the left, circled in yellow. Although I’m guessing it’s not unique to aviation, the preponderance of aviation rules are derived, in full or in part, from the mistakes of our brethren. I can’t say for sure, but I can almost say for sure the only reason that note exists is because someone, at some point, mistook the lights of the cattle pens for a runway and either touched down on top of several thousand cattle, or nearly did so.
As a side note, and in defense of that unfortunate pilot who was the cause of the note, pilots mistaking all sorts of lighting for a runway is really not that uncommon. Except for cattle pens, perhaps.
Laundry
As seen on my hotel’s laundry bag this week:
“Laundry is the only thing that should be separated by color.”
Stephen Sleeping 2023
I started tracking my general whereabouts awhile ago, ostensibly for tax purposes while living overseas, and have kept at it every year. This year I have slept at home less than half the time, which was on par with 2022 but far less than COVID-afflicted 2021. Due to some twists and turns at work I have only been on the yacht for 14 days, having traded my berth for a hotel room in most cases. And thankfully I had only three red eye flights this year, two of which were in business but one of those with a screaming child.
(nt = stewart and stephen, together; n = stephen alone)
Mississippi - Wyoming
Just finished a three day, 1,200+ mile solo cross country from Columbus, Mississippi to Alpine, Wyoming. She’s a brand new helicopter, with the new helicopter smell and pristine engine and transmissions bays, and an unblemished, shiny paint job. I enjoy these kind of flights, skimming over the countryside as it slowly transitions from the delta regions of the Mississippi River to the plains of the Midwest, to the mountains of Colorado and Wyoming. Quite beautiful, all of it. Ok maybe not Oklahoma, but whatever.
I was ferrying the helicopter from the Airbus factory to the owner’s home, which is where the photo was taken. It’s an exclusive enclave of sorts, built around a runway. Each home has a (large) hangar, such that you can pull your helicopter or biplane or jet out, taxi down your driveway, and promptly depart.
Lights
Matthew Shepard
One of my cross country stops last week was Laramie, Wyoming, where 25 years ago Matthew Shepard was brutally beaten and left to die in the freezing cold, tied to a fence. The next morning a passing bicyclist had initially taken him to be a scarecrow, before calling for assistance. But of course it was too late.
The fence is gone, and there are no markers or indication of what happened there, except a few ‘private property/no trespassing’ signs that presumably were meant to deter anyone coming to remember and reflect on Matthew’s death. The University of Wyoming, where Matthew was a student, could barely muster the motivation to slap a small brass plaque onto one of their nondescript benches in front of the humanities building, as a begrudging memorial which even now is covered in flowers, mementos and notes to him.
The world is full of hate, no doubt, and untold scores of lives are prematurely, senselessly, violently ended every year because of hate. But I remember Matthew’s death when it happened, and I remember how closer to home it felt. And it almost felt as raw standing there, 25 years later.
Carryon Luggage
I boarded a Delta Airlines flight from San Diego to Atlanta a few hours ago. I don’t hate Delta like I hate American Airlines, but both of them are relentless with their announcements about lack of overhead bin space, and the need for passengers to surrender their carryon luggage. Today the bleating began almost an hour before boarding, and it progressively gets more coercive: some agents decry that it will delay the boarding process and make the plane late in taking off, others announce that carry-on luggage with be forcibly checked and make a no subtle insinuation that they’re not talking about the last 10 people to board but the last 40 or 50; and one agent announced recently, and I quote: “we’re not going anywhere until I get another 15 people to check their carryon luggage.”
I find this phenomenon infuriating, foremost because in most cases it simply isn’t true they can’t accommodate all the luggage. Southwest Airlines routinely does so with little to no fuss, and airlines such as United typically make a weak plea at the beginning of the boarding process and then let it be, and they still accommodate nearly everyone’s luggage. Secondly, it brings out the worst in people, as if people weren’t terrible enough without any prompting: the last two boarding groups begin to mob the boarding area well before their group is called, jockeying for position so that they aren’t one of the unfortunate people who has to give up their luggage. Even as often as I fly, I can feel my body tense up as this drama unfolds.
The airlines (and some uninformed travelers) will say well, passengers should just check their luggage in the first place. They feign ignorance as to why so many people insist upon schlepping everything along with them into the cabin. But they know, and the people (like me) who have had their luggage lost, and have had to spend the first two or three days of a business trip or family vacation without most of their clothes and spending frustrating hours on the phone attempting to track down their luggage with grossly uncaring and powerless airline employees—we know. So give it a break, Delta and AA, and maybe learn from those airlines that have figured it out.