Editor’s Note: The Hungarian Countess Louise J. Esterhazy was a revered — and feared — chronicler of the highs — and generally lows — of fashion, society, culture and more. Over the course of several decades (although she never really counted and firmly avoided any reference to her age), the Countess penned her missives from her pied-à-terres in Manhattan, Nantucket, Paris, London and Gstaad, as well as wherever her travels took her, from California to Morocco.
Nobody remotely sane admits to relishing the prospect of modern air travel as the process has morphed from being something special and, once upon a time in the ’60s, even luxurious to today’s human equivalent of cattle-herding. The days when one referred to a frequent-flyer as being a “jet-setter” are but a distant memory. Unless one is talking “private jet,” the expression is nothing but silly.
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The glamour was back when the old Pan Am Clippers were half empty, the spacious cabins were exclusively staffed by beautiful, young, immaculately dressed “stewardesses’” with stylish uniforms designed by the likes of Oleg Cassini (TWA), Christian Dior (Air France), Coco Chanel (Olympic) and Pierre Balmain (Singapore).
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Back then, the front of the aircraft was often furnished with an old fashioned “stand-up and walk-around” bar, where one could drink and harmlessly flirt with fellow passengers. In that front section at least, the passengers were plied with copious amounts of Champagne and caviar and the attentive service was second to none. I vividly recall my inaugural first class Pan Am transatlantic flight, when an entire silver domed carvery was wheeled out and we were offered rare roast beef, carved off the bone, “seat-side.” It was all quite thrilling.
As an aside, I noted that on a recent TAP flight — Portugal’s creaky national airline — all the female cabin crew (as they are correctly labeled today) wore short, snappy wrist-length leather gloves during our entire boarding process. This was August, in heat of 80 degrees Fahrenheit. I thought to myself, “Are these entirely redundant leather gloves the last bastion of those times when there was an unwritten but implicit allure around the women who served the aircraft cabins?” There is something deeply old fashioned but elegant about a lady sporting leather gloves, especially when they categorically are not being worn to keep the hands warm but simply as a fashion accessory.
Back in those days, there were also crisply dressed porters to do the heavy lifting at both ends and one’s luggage became a collage of stylish pictorial labels, announcing far-flung and exotic destinations. Today, the noise of our times is the constant rumble of tiny baggage wheels on paving and the only tags our luggage get awarded carries the charmless and ubiquitous barcode.
In times past, there was no Homeland Security officer barking demands that one remove a patinaed leather belt and insisting you have a “pat-down,” during which, as they reach your nether regions, they informatively announce, “I am now approaching your sensitive parts.” At that juncture, I long to mutter, “How thrilling,” but Esterhazys don’t take kindly to being locked up, so I keep schtum.
Despite all our economic woes, the expanding global middle class, aligned with cheap airline offerings and a natural desire to see the world, mean that billions of humans travel hither and thither all the time.
Personally, I am quite content once ensconced in my seat with a book…as long as I don’t have the proverbial 800-pound gorilla as my immediate neighbor. I would even admit to sometimes perversely enjoying airline food. If I have an empty seat next to me and the flight is vaguely on time, I would go as far as saying that the actual flying process is still somewhat tolerable.
However, there are things that rankle.
Could an engineer explain to me how it is that when we can send spacecraft to Mars, the people who build the luggage trolleys are unable to build them where all four wheels rotate smoothly and in sync? How come, the world over, every luggage trolley always seems to have one maddeningly recalcitrant wheel that spins dementedly and entirely independently of the other three?
Also, technology now affords us the beautiful advantage of “self check-in.” So, while the airlines have dismissed the majority of their old-fashioned and courteous check-in staff and in-doing-so reduced their costs, we are forced to battle with computer terminals asking us to enter endless details and answer mindless questions about hazardous materials, which of course everyone secretes into their luggage. By the way, in the unlikely chance that someone had packed them, are they going to tap the “Yes” button when asked that question? I think not. One day, during check-in, I will ask the General Quartiermeister (aka, the German wife) in a booming theatrical voice, “Darling, remind me, is the fire extinguisher in our checked bag or the carry-on?”
Having answered the pointless questions, the machine spits out the elongated luggage tag, which, in order to attach properly to the baggage, requires either a minimum of three years employment as a check-in professional or have a degree in Japanese origami. I have neither.
I like the story of an immensely grand English duke checking onto a flight many years ago. “Sir, did you pack your bags yourself?” he was asked. After a second of stunned silence he gruffly responded, “Don’t be so ridiculous –—my valet does my packing.”
Having battled through security, these days one is released into a veritable shopping mall. Some European airports are in truth giant retail parks with a small transport facility attached — as a near after-thought.
And then we face the last insult — the torturous grammar and syntax deployed by airlines worldwide in their unending announcements over the PA system. One shouldn’t blame the poor individual with the microphone. They are simply reading from a script, compiled by another hapless individual back at the airline’s respective headquarters, be it JFK, LAX or London Heathrow.
We are duly instructed to “fasten your seatbelt securely.” Is there any other way to fasten a seatbelt, other than securely? Please show me an insecure seatbelt.
We are informed that “in the event of an emergency” we are required to do certain things, such as adopt the brace position. To me, an “event” is a wedding, a party, a graduation…not an airplane problem. The word “event” is entirely redundant — it’s simply a massive and life-altering emergency and most certainly not an “event.”
And to add fuel to the fire, during such an “event,” we are encouraged to “remove all personal headphones.” Well, thank god for that helpful guidance, because my natural inclination would have been to reach behind me and remove the headphones of some total stranger a couple of rows back.
Having safely landed, we are told not to forget all our “personal belongings.” I think the very word “belonging” in itself defines to whom the item belongs. Can my belongings be impersonal or be those of another passenger? And another humdinger of a redundancy.
In times past, there was a rule that our telephones had to remain firmly “off” until the aircraft arrived at the gate. Now, with the miracle of technology, once back on terra firma, turning “on” a small device will apparently no longer cause the aircraft to involuntarily hurtle toward the control tower. Hence, upon touch down, we are generously informed that it is safe to use our “hand-held personal electronic items.” That detailed instruction is particularly helpful, otherwise surely we might all be tempted to take down those washing machines and 3D printers that we stowed in the overhead bins and quickly fire them up. Really?
Lastly, we are told that on behalf of “the entire crew” it was a pleasure to have served us on the flight. I long for the day when, following the use of the word “entire,” we are told “with the exception of John in the rear cabin, who begrudges the fact that he had to serve you today, as it’s his grandma’s birthday.” Now, that would make good sense of the use of the word “entire.”
So, as the holiday season nears and many will soon be rushing hither and yon to see family or on vacation, on behalf of entirely myself, I wish you and your personal belongings an event of secure and happy flying.