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Fly the Noisy Skies

My flight into Chicago was delayed yesterday so I missed my connection.

That's two-for-two on getting stuck at O'Hare. The friendly people at American Airlines found a space for me on a United flight into Cincinnati, so I only was set back a couple extra hours, which in the grand scheme of things isn't so bad, I suppose.

Being a "rescheduled" passenger is a lot like being Rosa Parks in the sky. I was assigned a seat at the back of the airbus, despite lots of space on the plane. When I asked if I could move up, I was told those were Economy Plus seats.

"But I'm having a heavy flow day," I said. "I've been traveling for twelve hours now and could really use the extra comfort and protection of a plus size."

That got me no where.

Later on, in at least two PA announcements, we were all told that United is thrilled to offer its passengers Economy Plus seating, as long as they pay extra before hand and pre-book the seats. Not only are you closer to the exit and further away from the galley (which means you miss out on the flight attendant's tales of trips to Rio and how "fabulous" the first-class amenity kits are ... "real H20 products, not just the samples like the business-class amenity kits, the flight wasn't crowded so I took a half-dozen extra because I LOVE H20"), but you get up to "five extra inches" of leg room.

I wonder how much extra you have to pay to not sit next to an acne-faced twenty-something who talked into his digital voice recorder while eating three (count 'em, three!) McDonalds burgers after the plane had taken off.

Air travel is so glamorous.

But I made it to Cincinnati, only slightly emotionally scarred, and am now safely ensconced in my sister's house, listening to kd lang, waiting for the kids to wake up, looking at old pictures of my Grandma, and getting ready to go see the old dear.