Those were the days, my friends...

ACK!

Man do I feel old!

First of all, I haven't worked a "red-eye" in ages...I don't think I realized what I was doing when I originally traded into this trip. Oh well, not much I can do about that now!

I'm in the domicile and mulling around because I arrived about 3 hours early for my trip. I'm bored. I try to get in a catnap, but it's too damned quiet. I need the hustle and bustle of lots and lots of flight attendants around me, all bitching about the company or sharing stories about their latest trysts...but it's a ghost-town in here tonight and the lounge television isn't even turned on.

About 20 minutes before start time, I'm in the briefing room waiting for my crew to arrive. Soon after, a girl with a clipboard shows up. I've never seen her before but the clipboard speaks volumes...MANAGEMENT! She doesn't even really introduce herself.

"You working the red-eye to Chicago?" she askes suspiciously.

"Yeah," I respond with much reluctance.

"Oh good...well I'm here because you will have a brand new flight attendant on your crew tonight!" She still hasn't identified herself. "This is her very FIRST trip as a new flight attendant and I'm here to observe her and answer any questions that she might have...oh, and by the way, I'm one of you." One of me? Oh! You mean another flight attendant! Honey, lose the clipboard already...I thought you were a "suit!" I can tell the night's not gonna go by any faster.

She tells me she'll meet us plane-side and help her to do her "safeties" (the required safety-checks flight attendants have to do before each flight). "And by the way," she adds, yet again, "her name is (she pronunces what sounds like a letter of the alphabet) and she is just darling...you'll love her." I will? Are you sure about that, honey? How well do you know me? Believe me, the last thing I needed to do tonight was become a mother hen, holding her new flight attendant close and under her wing. Did I mention this was an all-nighter!!!

Soon the crew arrives, along with the alphabet-named newbie. She is timid and shy. I welcome her and the rest, and proceed with my briefing. We are working two flights tonight -- one to San Diego and then the red-eye service to Chicago. Our passenger load is full, with others standing by for any open seating. I mention Alphabet-girl is brand new and the crew sighs a collective "awww, how sweet." I wrap it up and we ajourn to the gate.

During the flight, our newbie is wide-eyed, like a doe being encountered by on-coming headlights. She is full of questions. The other flight attendants cheerfully (can flight attendants REALLY be cheerful these days?) respond to her queries and soon she is in the aisle in economy, experiencing her first beverage service. I observe that everything seems to be in order, and return to my duties in first class.

Twenty minutes goes by and I take a peek down the aisle. The cart is only positioned at row eight! Normally, second coffees and trash pick-up would be occuring at this moment, but I'm floored that there seems to be no movement of the beverage cart.

I watch as the newbie takes each individual order. She politely asks ONE passenger, "Would you care to have a beverage this evening, sir?" The words roll off her tongue, as if she and he are the only two people on the plane and there aren't another ninety-nine, parched, desperate travellers in the cabin, staring at the in-flight crew with laser beamed eyes desperately wanting to know what the hell is taking so long?!

The passenger then wants to know his choices. She meekly responds, "We offer Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, 7Up..." Is it getting warm in here? Maybe I'll ask the captain to cool it off in the cabin. The lady sitting next to this man is pursing her lips. "You haven't asked me what I want yet" is written all over her face.

The newbie bends over the cart to extract the man's selected beverage. It's Pepsi. THANK GOD -- an easy one! She is dutifully studying the variety of cans in the drawer. She pulls out the can and then...

With her apron, she pain-stakingly wipes the can's lid, then proceeds to open the can. She pours the drink over the cup of ice she has prepared on top of the cart, waits for the fizz to ebb, then fills it to just below the brim. It's as if she has followed a "step-by-step" guide on the procedure. Note to self: write the next big New York Times bestseller, "Beverage Services for Dummies!"

She hands him his drink, which he seems to paw at, and the can follows. Then, before she turns to the desparate housewife sitting next to the Pepsi guy, she turns her attention back to the cart, and carefully prepares the next plastic tumbler with ice. "Would you care to have a beverage this evening, ma'am?" I feel my eyes roll to the back of my head and I try to back away inconspicuously.

The service is finally completed (good thing this first flight is only two hours long -- who knows what would have taken place had there actually been a dinner to serve along side it!). She is in the aisle now, picking up trash from the once dessicated masses. Her uniform is perfect. Her hair is perfect. Her smile is contageous. She's a commercial for the airline.

Her cart mate comes up to the front. "How'd she do?" I inquired. "Lots of questions!" was his response. "And every other sentence is 'I'm sorry!'" I look back at her in the aisle, like Nemo in the middle of the wide open ocean, surrounded by hungry sharks, ready to attack without warning. She is completely unfazed. Smile and perfect uniform gracefully, elegantly accepts the garbage from the sharks. A tear wells up in my eye. (OK, who are we kidding here...there was no damned tear, but it did make the story more interesting, no?).

He says to me, "She is paranoid of being fired...man, they've really struck the fear of God into these new-hires!" I mentally regress to my first days as a new-hire. I remember all the rules. All the regulations. All the procedures that had to be followed right down to the letter. And all under the guise that stepping out of line would get me fired. "Well," I respond, "I suppose we've all been there. Just be patient, show her the ropes and answer her questions. She'll get the hang of it."

As he returned to help her, my mind raced to thoughts of the graceful days of air travel -- when people were polite and elegant -- when flying was a privilege and an experience to be savored; when flight attendants were stewardesses and stewards, picture perfect meals were served on real china with real silver, delivered with poise, grace and perfection by white-gloved, bouffant-coiffed beauties in their designer-inspired uniforms. Champagne flowed in tall, french lead flutes, too. And although those days are gone now, I thought I could see the spirit of them sauntering down the aisle, dressed in "business navy" polyester. Perfect hair. Perfect make-up. Perfect uniform.

The overnighter to Chicago was finished -- sleepy-eyed passengers all on their way to points beyond. Our crew passes through the deserted corridors of O'Hare International Airport. It's 4:30 a.m. and a Sunday morning to boot. It's the only time of the day when O'Hare isn't busy.

As we walk toward the main terminal to our layover hotel, I turn to notice the newbie, walking in step behind the rest. Her face shows the toll of being up all night. But there's not one thing out of place otherwise. I ask the newbie, "So, how does it feel to have survived your first red-eye?" With enthusiasm, as if she had just experienced her first roller-coaster ride and wants to get back in line to do it again, she replies, "It wasn't that bad."

I smile. She'll make it.

The Price We All Continue To Pay

As many of you are aware, there have been two high-profile cases in the news recently about celebrities allegedly going "off the deep-end" mentally and expressing, what I can only describe as "hate-speech." The media has made a huge deal about it and one would hope that it would spark a dialogue in our community about what is considered acceptable and what is considered flagrant displays of complete vitriol. I have always considered "hate-speech" in any form to be vile and base – the lowest form of expression one human being can communicate to another. But have we over-reacted in our society? Are we a culture of victims or one of tolerance? Let me share with you another example.

I was saddened today at the news that a long-time colleague of mine was fired from her job for something unfathomable: she used the "N" word. Let me try to put this in the correct context.

To protect her identity, I will call her "Julie" (obviously not her real name). Julie is from Germany. She is a lovely woman, a star flight attendant and she has had nothing but accolades and compliment letters written to the company over the span of her long career. Everyone who works with her says she is great, and has a real good time when she is on their crew. She is a model citizen and a kind individual. So to hear that she was accused of "hate-speech" was just unimaginable.

As it turns out, a few months ago, she was relaying to another co-worker an incident onboard a flight she had worked several years earlier where someone had called her a "Nazi." According to her, in Germany, one can actually be arrested for calling or accusing someone of being a Nazi. During the telling of her story, she told her co-worker that calling someone a Nazi in Germany is as offensive to them as it would be to a black person being called a ni**er.

Unfortunately for her, on the bus that day was another co-worker, a black man, who apparently was offended that she even used the word, no matter the context in which she had said it. It was obvious to those who had heard Julie say it that she was not directing it at anyone, was not using the word in a derogatory fashion nor was she referring to anyone specifically. It was simply an analogy that she had chosen to make the comparison with.

The offended individual reported it to company management, and immediately, she was released from duty and summarily terminated, due to the company's "zero-tolerance" policy.

What strikes me (and many others) is that this is not an isolated incident. How many times have people called others epithets that are nothing short of repugnant? I have heard flight attendants called "b*tch" "c*nt" "f*g" "b*stard" – all manner of repulsive words – by passengers on planes. And yet, where is the company's "zero-tolerance" policy in these situations? Usually, the passenger either gets away with it, or else they get the proverbial "slap on the hand" and are sent on their way.

When Michael Richards spews the "N"-word to hecklers in his audience, and then makes a feeble, insincere apology as "damage-control," or when Mel Gibson takes weeks to try and "reverse" the derogatory comments he made about Jews, saying it was "alcohol-induced" should we consider these acceptable? Where is the "zero-tolerance" there?

When Matthew Shepard was brutally murdered, there were so-called Christians at his funeral holding signs and shouting such slurs as "God hates fags" and "Homos burn in hell." Why are these expressions acceptable?

As Americans, our rights to freedom of speech and expression are protected by our Constitution, but why has the interpretation of this right become so twisted? Why are there no repercussions for popular celebrities or religious fanatics who openly and blatantly express foul and disgusting name-calling, and yet a first-rate, top-notch individual simply uses a term in the context of a comparison loses her career, her pension, and all her benefits simply because one other person was "offended?"

By no means am I subscribing to the idea that all expression is acceptable. On the contrary, I believe that there should be limits on some expression, but who can judge? What measuring stick can we use to say "this" is alright but "that" is not? It is a quandary that seems to have surfaced and become more and more divisive among the races, among sects, and even among various cultures within our own country. We have become a society of victims and everything and anything can be construed as "offensive."

When I was growing up, the majority of my friends were black. I learned much from them regarding their culture, their oppression of the past and the current social climate that seemed to always be working against them. I became sensitive to these issues and became intolerant of those who would mock or express any amount of racism. But there was another aspect that I became exposed to.

My family immigrated to this country in the late 1800's and settled in the Northeast and in Canada. They did not arrive here until many years after slavery was abolished. Some of my ancestors, being from Ireland and Poland, experienced much discrimination by those who would take advantage of them, and expressed their hatred of those cultural and religious traditions they were bringing with them when they arrived on our shores. They were never slaves owners nor had any inclinations to have any adverse feelings towards blacks.

Yet, as I grew up, there were many times when black people would express to me how I was racist towards them, simply because I was white. Nothing could be further from the truth. And yet, simply because I was white, I could not "understand their pain," their suffering or their culture. Again, not so: I know what is offensive and what is intolerable and have always fought alongside them all when they were feeling oppressed. But in so doing, why were my black friends called "Uncle Toms" while other black folks who perceived me being racist simply because I was white? And in the spirit of intolerance, why is it acceptable for a black person to call another black person "ni**er" and it not be considered "racist?"

Recently, talk show host Glenn Beck had the Reverend Al Sharpton on his program and the entire hour with him was devoted to trying to build an understanding about this. Beck asked Sharpton why some black leaders refused to decry racism of any sort, even if it was directed at whites from blacks. Sharpton simply changed the subject. When asked by Beck whether he felt the Black Community Leaders had a responsibility to educate their followers about changing the dialogue to be INCLUSIVE rather than EXCLUSIVE, Sharpton refused to respond but made a statement that sounded more like "we will when you white folks do it."

Perhaps I shall never be given an answer that will truly satisfy my need to deeply understand this dilemma, but it certainly seems that no matter the appearance of fairness, we are all paying the cost of this insidious problem, while those who can afford it most, suffer few, if any, ill effects. It is time to reconsider this notion that the privileged elite can get away with a shrug and a slap on the wrist, while the common citizen is exposed to the full brunt of the protest.

"Julie," my heart goes out to you and my prayers are with you…

Shades of Truth

truth [trooth]
–noun, plural truths [trooth z, trooths]
1. the true or actual state of a matter: He tried to find out the truth.
2. conformity with fact or reality; verity: the truth of a statement.
3. a verified or indisputable fact, proposition, principle, or the like: mathematical truths.
4. the state or character of being true.
5. actuality or actual existence.
6. an obvious or accepted fact; truism; platitude.
7. honesty; integrity; truthfulness.
8. (often initial capital letter) ideal or fundamental reality apart from and transcending perceived experience:the basic truths of life.
9. agreement with a standard or original.
10. accuracy, as of position or adjustment.
11. Archaic. fidelity or constancy.
12. in truth,in reality; in fact; actually: In truth, moral decay hastened the decline of the Roman Empire.

(Taken from www.dictionary.com)

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Last night, I was subjected to two seperate, distinct and powerful films. Although both films tackle widely differnt topics, the underlying theme was cleary similar: What is truth? When truth is involved, what kind of truth is really meant? Are there truly varying degrees of truth?

One of my MySpace friends shared with me a link to a thought-provoking, frightening film on 9/11 and the issues or "mysteries" that are not being discussed regarding what may have really happened on that summer morning. Is there a major cover-up taking place right before the eyes of each and every American? Judge for yourself, go to the link below and decide for yourself (WARNING: The film is 90 minutes long so be prepared to devote some time to watching it).

911 Mysteries <--Click Here

I also got to watch the film adaptation of Tony Piccarillo's stage play "The 24th Day," a story about lies, guilt, inner turmoil and the basic fundemental question: What is truth? Is there a difference between YOUR truth and THE truth? I won't give the story away here, but it is well acted and is a real intraspective story.

I share this with you because I'm sure we have all been there, in our own lives, trying to determine if we can really live with THE truth, or must we color it in varying shades in order that we and others can find it palatable enough to go on each day.

Are we being "protected" when truth is altered? Can we really shield someone from what truth is? Or is more damage caused when we color the truth, only for the ones we are protecting to find out about it anyhow?

Someone once told me that it is easier to ask forgiveness than it is to ask permission. Is that how we make our choices to reveal OUR version of the truth rather than THE REAL truth?

I hope not.

If you wanted to sleep with him...

This video speaks for itself! Enjoy!

Ok...so it's not an original work...but:

I saw this on someone else's blog today and I couldn't help it...I HAD to share it with you all. My sincere thanks to "Phoenix" for this plagerized (by yours truly) blog entry. Enjoy!

To be posted VERY LOW on the refrigerator door – NOSE HEIGHT.

Dear Cats & Dogs,

The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain your food. The other
dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the
middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food
and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack.
Beating me
to the bottom is the not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall
faster than you can run. I cannot buy anything bigger than a king size bed. I
am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch
to ensure YOUR comfort. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when
they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other
stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails
straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm!

For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some
miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary
to claw, whine, meow, and try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years- canine and feline assistance not required.

The proper order is to kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt! I
cannot stress this enough!!!

To pacify you, my dear pets, I have posted the
following message on our front door:

To ALL NON-PET OWNERS who visit & like to COMPLAIN about our pets:

1. They live here. YOU DON'T!
2. If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture.
That's why they call it 'fur'niture!
3. I like my pets a lot better than I like most people.
4. To you, it's an animal. To me, he/ she is an adopted son/ daughter who is
short, hairy, walks on all fours and doesn't speak clearly.

Remember: Dogs & cats are better than kids because they:

1. Eat less.
2. Don't ask for money all the time.
3. Are easier to train.
4. Normally come when called.
5. Never ask to drive the car – just a ride.
6. Don't hang out with drug-using friends.
7. Don't smoke or drink.
8. Don't have to buy the latest fashions.
9. Don't want to wear your clothes.
10. Don't need a gazillion dollars for college, and ……………..
11. If they get pregnant, you can sell their children.

Yours truly,
A lovingly obsessed pet owner

Diana Krall

Your sultry pipes keep us happy and glad to be alive!

All the best for a great new year for you

AND all the best for the emminant arrival of your TWINS!

Much Love!

'tis the season???

Cole and I had a really fun experience this past week.

The neighborhood that we live in is fairly new so each month that passes by brings in new residents. Last year at Halloween, because the neighborhood was still so small, we all decided to do a "Trunk or Treat" in the local church parking lot. It was a decent turnout and everyone had a good time.

This year, however, with the growth almost doubling the size and number of people here, there were no such plans for Trunk or Treat and we just assumed that we would get a handful of kids knocking on our door. We ended up with about 80-100 kids! And they were all in great little costumes. In the spirit of it all -- we were one of the few homes in the neighborhood that actually decorated for the occassion.

Fast forward to November 1.

You could not have asked for a more beautiful day -- sunny, no breeze and about 55 degrees -- not a cloud in the sky! As we sat in our yard soaking it all in, it occurred to us what we must do. Without any hesitation, we took down all our decorations, stowed them away for next year and then...

You guessed it! We are suffering from "Christmas Creep!" That new little catch phrase the media is attaching to how Christmas seems to "arrive" earlier and earlier each year. I swear Macy's had their Holiday Lane displays up and decorated on October 1st! Target was making room for their Chirstmas wares weeks before Halloween season had really kicked off! Here in Utah, we have two radio stations that directly compete with one another as to which will be the "King of Christmas!" One of them actually started playing Holiday music 24/7 at the stroke of midnight on October 31st!!!

So why should we be any different?

The day was just too perfect not to take advantage of the situation, so we did -- we put up our Christmas lights on the house!! For the record, while we did check the lights out that night to see how they will look this year (we are using new LED C7 strings that we got at Costco this year -- they look GREAT!), we had vowed not to spoil it all by not actually displaying them until Thanksgiving day!

So ring in the new year and...wait! Let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet...it's IS only November 5th after all!

Cheers!