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Category Archives: Travel

The Fundamental Things To Fly

When Rick tells Ilsa that the problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world and that she must get on that plane the audience holds its collective breath. Will she stay in Casablanca or join her husband to fight the good fight? It’s a suspenseful few moments; this romantic struggle. To this day, my stomach clenches with anxiety; will she really get on that tiny prop plane during such a thick fog? For me any follow-up film wouldn’t answer romantic questions but instead whether Victor, Ilsa and the pilot got there in one piece.

Ordinarily travel in film was depicted (and often actually was) kind of glamorous. There was a (relatively) brief period of time during which air travel was regularly available and pricey. People dressed, not to teach yoga, but to travel. There was such a thing as ‘travel outfits’ that did not include a u-shaped pillow (presumably for the neck but identical to a hemorrhoid pillow.) We can all agree those days are over. But what has taken its place? Slowly but surely you can (or will be able to) buy or finagle your way into civility. There are ways to avoid the TSA hall of mirrors screening. Cavity searches and arbitrary confiscations can be bypassed with elite registration. You needn’t wait at the gate/Ellis Island Great Hall if you pay for V.I.P. status with an airline. You can eat cubed cheese behind closed doors, for a price. Passengers can pre-board as V.I.P.s as well. Pre-board? Why would anyone care to sit in a can longer than necessary? Well, claiming space in an overhead bins is a sweet (and at times elusive) victory. Airlines now charge passengers for the opportunity to have one’s luggage damaged, stolen or lost. Those bins fill up fast and with items you wouldn’t think could fit through the aircraft door let alone a bin.

So if you’ve paid your additional memberships and registered accordingly, you have gotten onto the airplane in a civilized manner. You’ve still carried your bag like a sherpa and purchased your own magazines, newspapers and meals. But you haven’t stood on endless lines or worse, in large unwieldy clusters. You’ve not been checked for scurvy or glaucoma or had your name changed. No, you and your burlap sack of boiled potatoes and sausage are seated comfortably with your worldly possessions within eyeshot. You are seated comfortably, aren’t you? Okay forget about your legs for a moment; you’re okay right? What’s that? You’ve no sensation in your shins? No, I’m sorry those seats (with extra legroom) in the emergency row cost extra. That’s right you get to pay for the privilege of agreeing to assist 150 people out of a crashed airplane. Now just sit back and try to relax. Here, have some recycled air. Your air blower doesn’t work? Let me see if I can flag an attendant to help you. Hmm, all I seem to see is people wearing jeans and bright pink tops. There seems to be a woman in an electric pink housedress maybe she can help. It would appear that this Delta flight is not only cross-listed with Alaska Air, KLM, Bob’s Plane, but with Barbie Air as well. (*Note-flights are now cross-listed like college courses. Don’t ask why; don’t even think too much about it, just check and re-check which terminal has your plane.) Wait it seems it’s not Barbie Air. No, it’s a charity campaign. Yep! If you act now not only do you enjoy the posh pleasures of flying in a can, providing your own meals, entertainment, and blankie, you have the opportunity to donate to the charity of your airline’s choice!

No doubt the airline is looking for some good will. You know what might create some good will? Have the attendants wear uniforms. Don’t have the pilot stand in his shirt sleeves (and white plastic sunglasses) showing the attendants photos of his wild antics last night as passengers are boarding. Be on time and be nice. Stop making the seats smaller and closer together. In fact; stop making the seats. There should be two classes; first class (for which a ticket is never less than $5,000 each way) and upright. Yes, upright. Just straps us in like parachuters. You could fit a lot more people in that way and eliminate the need for any bathrooms! Flying is already like riding the subway in so many other ways; I say take that last brave step for mankind. Nothing will create goodwill faster than just getting me there in one piece after such a harrowing experience. I’m willing to wager that Ilsa and the pilot of that prop plane are probably the ones that lived happily ever after.

 
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Posted by on October 17, 2012 in Travel

 

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Flying Solo

 

 

 

If you’ve been out in public during the past ten years you may have noticed that there are few “adult” domains dotting our landscape. I don’t refer to the “Live” “Nude” Times Square of decades past. I refer instead to any and everywhere. The stroller set has infiltrated your local coffee shop and bar (hey after a long day playing in a sanitized million dollar soft-edged heat-proof playground, you’d need a stiff drink too.) Restaurants whose white tablecloths and staggering bills once signaled and adult oasis, now have nuggets of processed foods on the menu (because after all small children do enjoy fine dining they just don’t enjoy actual food.) No doubt much of the free-range high pitched squealing you experience (in restaurants, bars or Holocaust memorial museums) is mostly due to a parent not wanting to deny themselves anything of their pre-parenting life. It would seem that some people skipped the “What to EXPECT when you’re expecting” chapter. Life should continue unaltered save for many more accessories.

But what of the scenario in which the presence of one’s own child ruins the experience of the parent. Clearly ruining other people’s experience is a great motivator, but what if your own child negates your pleasure. No, we’re not venturing into “family bed” territory. Instead we’re looking at high-end travel. Not private plane, private island, private ecosystem travel. Just ordinary 5-star travel. Why would a person choose to fly first-class with a child younger than school age? If we assume both are healthy and that the child(ren) are not actual owners of the airline; what in the world would compel an adult to fly first-class with a small, squealing, squirming child? It can’t be the free food, children don’t seem to eat real food. (Oh for the love of all decency, don’t tell me they now serve nuggets in first-class!) It’s almost certainly not the free booze, although it could be that warm wet towel. The parent’s experience could not be improved by being in first class. Unless the flight attendants actually relieve the parent of the child, how is the parent enjoying the benefits of first-class? Is it merely the mustache twirling delight in having ruined everyone else’s first-class experience? Doubtful.

Once the aircraft has taxied to the gate and the fasten seat belt sign has been turned off, where are the little tykes staying? Are they off to visit relatives or perhaps moving into their new home? No, they’re off to the 5-star hotel/resort with zero child-centric amenities. Their parents will play running, screaming games of hide and seek in the plush penthouse level hallway at 10:30 PM. These adults will encourage the practicing of door slamming (“good boy!”) throughout the early morning hours. And we are left wondering why. Why would anyone choose to spend so much money to not enjoy the quiet, the plushness, the afternoon tea, the romance and the restorative nature of a very posh hotel? Why in an area dotted with chain hotels and motels catering to children and their nugget ways would anyone think that children should be in a place created for the pleasure of adults? Is it merely an extension of the ‘not being denied’ anything of one’s pre-parenting days? Does it matter not a whit that you spent the money and didn’t actually have the experience for which you paid? Is it an insistence of not lowering one’s standards just because one has decided to parent? (Note: Entitlement isn’t really a standard; it’s more of a pervasive and toxic behavior.) Could it be something even slightly more disturbing? Could it be that the child/infant is an adult security blanket? The world and/or social gatherings are far less daunting when you can dress up a little person and spend the day deflecting. That motivation would certainly explain the appearance of children/babies at funerals and weddings. “Pay no attention to the adult behind the baby!” It’s enough to make a person miss the security blankets that were smoking and sedatives.

 
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Posted by on October 15, 2012 in Childhood, Travel

 

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The Fun Of Getting There

Millions of dollars are spent on selling travel as glamorous and/or restorative. There are entire magazines dedicated to this pursuit and big chunks of space reserved for it in newspapers & travel blogs aplenty. Television shows and networks are dedicated to the cause. There are clothing and accessory manufacturers specializing in travel accouterment. The fashion industry still adheres to a season-ette known as Holiday/Cruise in mid-winter. Everyone’s in on the action (except for travel agents, g-d rest their souls.) Let the good times roll.

Yet have you ever heard (or experienced) anyone traveling commercially, return and declare; “Well bust my buttons that certainly was glamorous and/or restorative?” Probably not. Getting there (and sometimes even being there) can often be one big pain in the bum.

It used to be you would pack your bags, grab your ticket and head to the airport. Today, after packing your bag with teeny tiny sample sizes of health and beauty aids (in ziplocs or out, depending on the airport) planning an outfit without metal embellishment or laced shoes, packing enough food to make it through the flight and the predictable delay; you are, woohoo, on your way. But to where exactly? You booked your flight on one airline (or so you thought) but these days they are cross-listed. You trek to the USAir terminal only to discover that USAir flight 6403 is in actuality a United flight 760 (and listed as Lufthansa 23, but that’s too odd to even address.) If you’re lucky those two terminals have a shuttle system. So maybe, just maybe, if the g-ds are smiling upon you, you make it to your gate. You must go buy a bottle of water however since bringing one with you would jeopardize national security (as would a nail clipper which is amusing when you think that a punch to the jugular is far more impactful than threatening to manicure someone.) Your $7 bottle of water secured, you bypass the food-like options that fill you with a school (or prison) cafeteria wistfulness. (Airports might be the only place where a chef known for inventing gourmet duck topped pizzas is now serving orange slop in containers emblazoned with his name.) You sit and watch the parade of (pajama-clad) humanity elbow their way to special treatment; “We’re a family, we’d like to sit together.” “My husband needs a seat without an armrest” What century are you people in? You will be lucky to get on this overbooked flight even with a seat assignment, checked luggage and wearing an airline uniform.

Getting onto the plane takes all the chutzpah and sharp elbows usually reserved for a Macy’s white sale. Overhead space is the holy grail. As the plane fills the desperation is palpable. Your goal is to avoid the attendant being “pleased to check your bag for you.” You’ve made it this far; you will not give up without a fight. Finally as the passengers settle down and it looks as if every bag is secured, the stand-bys appear. These people have made it onto the plane. They have a killer instinct and a rugged determination that is certain to squash your hat or break your duty-free liquor bottles. The more extreme sport of these stand-bys will make it work. The guy sauntering on with both his case of wine and of entitlement? His attempts might not end as well.

But everyone’s seated and here we go! Here we go. We’re not going. Why are those reflective vested people walking on and off the plane? Why is it 20 minutes past our departure time and we’re still sitting still? Ah, an announcement. It seems a light bulb is out. Well better safe than sorry (whatever the hell that means on a plane with over a hundred bulbs.) So we wait. And wait some more. An hour after departure time the mystery unfolds and a lesson is learned. Don’t ever have your light bulb go out during a maintenance worker shift change. The (it’s almost the end of my shift) worker refused to get the bulb and would not tell the (it’s the start of my shift) worker about the need for a bulb. One hour and fifteen minutes later, the bulb was replaced (at a cost we won’t even begin to imagine) and we’re on our way. So glamorous, so restorative.

 
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Posted by on September 5, 2012 in Travel

 

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The Time Of Their Lives

There was a time when the Catskills were the summer destination of thousands of New Yorkers. The bungalows and hotels of the area were known collectively as The Borscht Belt, as the clientele was predominantly Jewish.  Some families came for the entire season (the father coming up for the weekend) others for a week or two.  The heyday was in the 1940s and 1950s, and started to ebb in the 1960s.  Tastes change, the world changed.  Today, middle and working class families rarely vacation together for an entire season.  Private space is far more coveted than communal living and/or dining.  The grandchildren and great-grandchildren of the Catskills take their families to the Hamptons, The Rockaways or down the shore.

A few of the Catskill’s famed physical structures still remain and have been converted for modern use, with varying degrees of success.  But looking at them, it is not possible to even begin to imagine what that world was like.  At least two movies (A Walk on the Moon and Dirty Dancing) capture the mood and social dynamics of both the bungalow world (A Walk on the Moon) and the resort (Dirty Dancing) world of the Catskills.  There were two hallmarks of the Catskill experience; the food and the entertainment.  Comedians, singers, musicians and dancers made a steady and hefty chunk of change by “playing the circuit” every summer.  Few remember these icons of their time.  Perhaps the exceptions would be Woody Allen and Joan Rivers.  Almost everyone who had a hand in creating television (and by “creating” I mean ‘inventing the very concept of programming”) played the Belt; Milton Berle, Carl Reiner, Burns and Allen, Sid Caesar, Molly Berg.  Theatre people played the Catskills too; Betty Garrett, Camden and Green, Molly Picon, Fanny Brice.  All the big names played the Catskills; it was close to the city and it wasn’t a bad way to make some real money.

The entertaining in the Catskills went beyond the stage however.  A tummeler (pronounced: toom-e-ler) was the court jester of their day.  Tummelers were jovial, extroverted fellows whose primary job was to get the party started.  They cajoled people into gaiety, usually while wearing something quirky.  The recent death of Lou Goldstein, a tummeler’s tummeler if there ever was one, may be the last bit of spark to sputter from the Borscht Belt ash.  (You may remember seeing Lou on daytime talk shows in the 1970s.  He was famous for his Simon Says.)

The Catskills (as they once were) are gone and they’re not coming back, but tummelers are still doing quite well.  Have you been to a Bar or Bat Mitzvah in the past 25 years?  You can’t swing a rubber chicken without hitting some festooned guy or gal encouraging middle-aged guests to drop it like it’s hot.  (Twenty-five years ago, Aunt Shirley was being told she was too sexy for her shirt.)  The good news for tummelers is that the gigs are now all year long and women may apply.

It is interesting that the tummeler is the only thing to emerge from the rubble of the Borscht Belt.  Seasonal communities don’t exist in the same manner.  They do exist in an ad hoc manner, but not as a large collective and certainly not with the same degree of familiarity.  Actors, musicians, comedians and the like, have nowhere to earn a stable income while perhaps trying out new material and cultivating new audiences.  Performers were able to work (and play) with their friends and sometimes make enough money to make it through a lean year.  Yes, today some do work cruise lines and casinos, but those are finely choreographed shows and are usually reserved for the boldest faced names on the B list.

There are new ways for entertainers to breakout and find new audiences, online and off.  The proliferation of televised contests assures that a new finely coached belter/wailer will be discovered every week.  Comedians have their pick of new media as well as consistent traditional outlets (someone will always have to prep live audiences to laugh at tepid television shows.)  But what may never be replicated is a place for performers of different genres to perform in the same place at the same time.  Like the Catskill guest experience, it’s the collective that will be missed.

 
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Posted by on April 16, 2012 in Cultural Critique, Travel

 

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Titanic Shifts

A birthday party for a monumental disaster strikes me as a bit macabre, but a centennial is a centennial and does give one pause.  The disaster that now is known simply as; “The Titanic” has permeated our cultural consciousness for decades now.  Countless books; fictions and non, have been published. Theatrical pieces (including a musical!) have been produced.  Films have been made and remade.  It simply goes on and on.

For some the fascination is that of the magnitude of the loss of life, for others the boldface names on-board, capture the imagination.  Other “fans” are nautically curious, or scholars of the early 20th century class system.  Some are captivated by the less romantic aspects such as the arrogance of insufficient life boats or search and rescue endeavors.  If my imagination is captured by anything (aside from the buoyancy of one Molly Brown) it is that of the shifts in our culture since that fateful voyage.

By looking at the physical construct of the ship, compared to luxury liners of today we can chart the course of some of the ways in which we’ve changed.

Let us start with the super-sizing

  • ships are about 34% larger than the Titanic (let’s just let that figure roll around in our heads for a moment)
  • a typical state room was 120 square feet and is now 282 square foot (and chock-full of amenities unknown to Titanic passengers; such as a bathroom.)

The expectation of creature comforts at least equivalent to what one experiences at home does not seem a new phenomenon.  No doubt, smaller spaces and shared bathing facilities were not all that unknown to people in 1912.  The modern “bigger is better” phenomenon is American in its origin and the (international) tourism industry is now on board with that.

How people use their leisure time and how they interact with others is the most dramatic change one can glean from the facilities of the Titanic

  • A tiny “plunge bath” was the swimming pool of the day.  The tank of seawater was rather brisk and bracing the water was seen as an act of manly fortitude.
  • You can’t swing a water wing without hitting a heated playground of a pool on today’s ships.  They are enormous and fitted with slides and other gewgaws. Esther Williams would risk a head injury emerging from the depths of one of those pools.
  • There were live musicians on the Titanic (and the band did play on) but there were no “shows” or “entertainment”
  • Today’s ships have full-scale auditoriums/theatres.  Mini versions of musicals are often performed, as are all other forms of splashy entertainment.
  • Public spaces on the Titanic were predominately reading and writing rooms and comfortable places to socialize.
  • Bars, discos, casinos, shopping and shore excursions are how people “socialize” on today’s ships.

Of course the fundamental difference was that the Titanic was seen as a means to end.  It was a very nice way to travel.  A cruise on the other hand is seen as the destination itself.  But still, it is interesting to consider that there was a time we considered a morning of written correspondence, followed by a stroll on deck, a meal or two, a little reading and perhaps catching up and/or meeting new people to be a thoroughly entertaining day.  It is safe to say that there are many of us who now do all those things at once in the span of one hour.

 
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Posted by on April 8, 2012 in Style, Travel

 

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