YKWIH #7

("You know what I hate" is a series of blogs inspired by my daughter's blog, which is about things HER FRIEND hates. So my daughter's email is like a ghost writer. That's confusing. Forget it. Back to me.)

You know what I hate? I hate planes.

I look forward to vacations. I pack my favourite shorts and t-shirt. My camera, iPod, journal, cell, cell charger, laptop charger,ipod charger, camera charger - how many chargers do I need? Arrrrrg. Somehow it all stuffs into the suitcase.

I leave for the airport hours early. Many hours. Because my wife says we have to be there 3 hours before takeoff. Plus account for traffic delays. Might as well go the night before and sleep on a bench.

I'll skip talking about going thru US customs coz we all know what a ridiculous interrogation that is.

Finally I board the plane. And then the nonsense begins. The stuff I hate. The announcements.

Non-stop announcements.

All I have to do is put on my seatbelt and sit. But they have all these stupid announcements and rules and procedures.

First they tell me how to buckle my seat belt. I drive a car. It has a seatbelt. And even if I didn't drive a car, I think I'm smart enough to figure out how to buckle the left strap to the right. But thanks for the instructions.

"Excuse me sir, but you're sitting next to the emergency exit,so let me show you have it works". Ya sure, you do that, and in case we crash, I'll remember to crank the key left, the cable right, flip up the thing-a-ma-jig and heave the 5,000 pound door out of the plane. Ya, ok. I can do that. Thanks for putting my mind at ease.

Then we go through the oxygen masks. Now are we really gonna need these? And if we do, and I hope we don't, but if we do, do I really need instructions? I think I get it! I jam the freaking mask over my mouth and suck it in! No instructions needed.

Then the next announcement tells me how they are gonna nickle and dime me for drinks and sandwiches after I've already paid $500 for my seat. A seat that fits a small teenager not a grown man.

More announcements.

Five impatient people pop the steward "I need help" button above the seat. Boing! You know the one? It blasts off a tone that fractures my inner ear. The guy next to me blows his nose. The lady in front of me hacks up a lung. There's 200 people in a confined space for four hours, half of whom are probably sick and I'm stuck in the middle. Well, at least I have the nearest exit.

The pilot cranks open the mic for another announcement and I can barely hear him advising us - "We'll be flying at an altitude of 35,000 feet". No kidding? Every plane flies at that height. Always. And if we're not, what am I gonna do about it? Then he tells me the names of his co-pilot and the cabin crew so we can be best friends.

Next announcement - "Thanks for flying with Air Canada and in about 10 minutes we'll get this Boeing going." Did she really say "we'll get this Boeing going?"

Oh - another announcement. "This is a non smoking plane and the washrooms are equipped with smoke alarms." Well if it's a non smoking plane, why would we need smoke alarms?

Then, if this whole routine isn't bad enough, they do the whole bloody thing over again in french, or spanish.

Oh, there's one more announcement. "We have a delay and we'll be on the runway for another ten minutes". Of course.

Behind me a baby is screaming its face off, drowning out the sound of the engines.

Ahhh - nothing like riding in style.