I uy V V
Leavin’
on a
get plane
Well, for those of you who weren’t
in the Nebraska Union Monday, I'm
going home to Germany for Christ
mas. Yes, Dad made me wait until
eight days before my plane takes oil
to tell me I get to celebrate the holi
day season with my family.
Since my family left Nebraska in
1CJ85 to move to Texas and then to
Germany, going home has always
been a big thing for me. I usually start
counting down 50 or 60 days before
my departure, about the time I begin
to pack for the trip. Old roommates
w ill vouch for me there, my suitcases
took up all of the excess room in our
humble abode. It’s pretty obvious I
don't get too excited about seeing my
family, although it may just be the joy
of getting out of Lincoln for awhile.
I unpack and repack, always sure
I’ve forgotten something of vital
importance. Do I need my blowdryer
or does my sister still have one? Dad
always tells me “pack lightly" but in
my opinion, I need 60 or 70 cassette
tapes even for a three-week break.
And now that they live in cold
weather as opposed to Texas weather,
J
I'm forced to try and cram a good
number of sweaters into two suit
cases, because that’s how many the
airplane people will let me check in.
And because of lack of space, 1 usu
ally have more than the allotted
number of carry-on luggage -- two.
I remember one year taking two
carry-on pieces of luggage, a purse, a
skateboard and a stuffed animal onto
the plane. The stewardesses did not
especially care for the skateboard and
made the w hole trip pretty miserable.
As you can imagine, my suitcases
are usually packed w ay past capacity.
I pray when the plane lands that cus
toms won’t make me open them be
cause I'm sure I'll never be able to gel
them shut again. The last time I Hew
m from Germany I was standing w ith
some airport guy from Hungary or
C/cchoslavakia by the conveyor belt
waiting for my luggage. It was taking
quite a while and I made some com
ment that it probably exploded. The
guy got this terrible look of Icar on h is
lace and said “exploded?” I had to
explain that I had packed the suitcase
so full that if the luggage people
threw it, it would probably pop open
spewing all of my clothes and tapes
onto the tarmac. He understood and
warned me of making other explo
sion comments in airport terminals. I
iiucss it wasn’t so funny.
I really didn’t understand his tear
because at the Frankfurt airport ev
eryone is given the third degree about
their luggage. “Is this your luggage?
Did you pack it? Where did you pack
it? When did you pack it? Did you
leave the luggage anywhere unat
tended? Is there even the remotest
possibility that someone could have
put something into your luggage
without you knowing it?” I don’t
know why they don’t just open the
stuff up and look inside. Probably
because they know no one would be
able to gel it closed again.
The worst part about this luggage
thing is carrying all of them at once
through airports especially when
coming back from Germany. Nor
mally I catch a flight in Frankfurt and
lly non-stop to Dallas or St. Louis and
then catch a connecting flight. So, in
Dallas or St. Louis everybody has to
get off of the plane and wait for all of
their luggage, lake it through cus
toms, hope to God nobody wants to
see what's inside, then check it in
again so that it can be put onto the
connecting flight. It’s terrible, espe
cially for me, because I have to carry
two pieces of luggage at 5(X) pounds
a piece, two carry-on pieces of lug
gage, my tape ease and my purse. By
the lime I get to my final destination,
I’m so tired from carrying my lug
gage through so many airports I can
hardly move.
I have been fortunate, however, in
that I’ve never had my luggage lost.
My Mom, on the other hand, had her
luggage lost somewhere between
Wichita, Kan. and Amsterdam. Air
Norway eventually found the lug
gage and returned it to her.
*frc have been those more
rablc trips, scary might even be
a good word for them. A few years
ago 1 was flying back to Lincoln from
San Antonio and my flight ended up
being five hours late. It was the same
slimmer Dallas had that terrible wind
shear accident and about 150 people
were killed and Ricky Nelson
crashed somewhere in Texas (for
some 'unknown reason). I had logo
from San Antonio to Houston, catch
the connecting flight, and then go to
Kansas City, and finally Omaha.
Well, we got close to Houston and the
weather wasn’t so good - wind
shears. The pilot told us we couldn’t
land right away because all ol the
area runways were lull with other
planes that had made bad weather
landings. So we circled, and we
circled, and we circled.
I remember telling the bald man
with crutches silling next to me “you
know we’re all going to die don t
you?’ ’ (Still circling of course). Then
the pilot told us we were “running
out of fuel” and we had to go back to
San Antonio. So we did, and we refu
eled, and we went back to Houston.
My connecting uigm m nuuswii
had been sitting on the ground for
about three hours. And for those that
don’t know, when planes arc
grounded, the air conditioning is
turned off so no one can smoke.
Everybody on the plane looked like
hell. Ties and buttons were undone,
everybody was sweating, there were
several nicotine attacks going on and
it seemed as though everybody was
drunk. The man from Kansas City
sitting next to me was smashed and
going a bit nuts. He said he hadn t had
a cigarette in four hours and that the
passengers neared mutiny when the
stew'ardcsses said they had run out of
liquor. He told me the crew restocked
the plane about half way through the
grounding.
But there arc some sad parts about
flying. For some reason, airplane
companies manage to cither find all
of the old movies I’ve already seen or
all of the “worst” movies. For in
stance, I’ve seen Beverly Hills Cop
II, The Natural, Beverly Hills Cop II
again and Three Men and a Baby.
I really shouldn’t complain
though, these weren’t really bad
movies. Last semester my Dad flew
to the states twice in one month. He
said he had to watch Ishtar four times.
I’ll take Beverly Hills Cop II again.
And seeing the movie is free -- hear
ing it will be four dollars please.
The only lime 1 got to hear the
movie free was on my way to Ger
many last Christmas. I reconnected in
Minneapolis and wc were delayed. Il
seems the crew was unable to locale
one of the passengers, I believe his
name was Mr. Stephens.
The pilot couldn’t take off to Eu
rope without Stephens because this
man’s luggage had already been
loaded on and it would have to be
unloaded if Stephens was not located.
The stewardesses kept uryong to Find
Stephens on the plane. 1 couldn’t tell
if they thought he was deaf or asleep
or simply didn’t know his name, but
they kept asking.
Then they got smart and paged
Stephens in the terminal and low and
behold they found him - in one of the
bars in the terminal. He was smashed
and he had no idea we were waiting
on him. Bui the delay caused by
Stephens made the crew feel bad and
they gave us our head sets free.
I smoke, so I can barely sec the
movie anyway because I’m in the
very back row of the plane. Bui not
being able to see the movie is not the
worst part of silling in the smoking
section. You see those of us smokers
that are daring enough to sit in the
actual smoking area are constantly
bombarded by all of the closet smok
ersand the smokers who don't want
their clothes to smell.
Ilncver fails, throughout the entire
trip to Germany, people come back
and ask me to play musical airplane
scats with them so that they can
smoke-. Forget it, no way, this is my
scat, I paid for it (or somebody did
and you can’t sit in it. But they wil
later get you. They watch and wait foi
you to go to the bathroom and the
minute you turn the bathroom lock u
.“occupied” anywhere from 10 to II
people arc up and racing down the
plane’s aisles towards your seal. I gc
out of the bathroom and there’s ai
ugly dogpilc of smokers in my scat
And don’t think I don’t throw a fit.
Now all you non-smokers stop'
laughing, you fail to remember that iL
and when a plane crashes it’s those oR
us at the back of the plane with the®
best chance of survival, so there.
Of course there was one really bail
part about this delay — fidgety chil®
dren and frustrated babies. Ulti-1
malcly, that is the worst part about
flying especially on long flights to
Europe.
While we were wailing for
Stephens to be found, a child a few
scats away decided he just was not
having a good time and he let the
entire 747 know it. Worse yet, while
the crc.w looked for Stephens, the
plane’s wings iced over and they had
to be defrosted and that added to the
delay.
We finally took off a half hour
later and the child still wasn’t happy.
I had my Walkman on and I could still
hear him. I remember saying out loud
to myself “That child needs a glass of \
wine” and motioned with my glass
towards him. The passenger on the
other side of the aisle went to reach
for my glass and said “I’ll give it to
him.” Apparently I had spoken a
little louder than I thought but at least
I wasn’t the only one annoyed.
Other than the luggage part of my
trips, screaming children and delays 1
usually have a great lime. 1 love to fly
and I think it’s because it’s the only
lime I can travel really fast without
getting a speeding ticket. I wonder if
that’s why Chuck Jaeger flew.
I get to leave Nebraska next Tucs
day and connect in St. Louis probably
with another five hour layover (my
Dad will do anything to save ten dol
lars). But I’m not complaining, I’m
just happy to be able to go home.
Hopefully I will have another inter
esting plane trip, possibly one to
write about.
No Time For
Christmas Cards
This Year?
Final Exams. Christinas
Shopping. Holiday Parties.
You have enough to worry
about without having to take
the time to send everyone a
Christmas Card.
So why not pick up the
phone and call the Daily
Nebraskan Classifieds and
greet someone with a Holiday
Personal. You won’t have to
worry about finding a card.
saying the right thing, or even
licking those awful -tasting
envelopes. And to top it on,
you won't even have to hunt
down a stamp or a mail box.
This year, choose to be
different. Call 472 2588 and
send your Christmas Cards
through the Daily Nebraskan
Personals. It's a quick, simple
and unique way to say "Happy
Holidays.''
Call 472-2588
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John Bruco\ Dally Nabraakan
