My Unhappy Story Of Flying Trapped Inside A MRI With Wings

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Seating chart for MRI with wings.

While on vacation last weekend, I spent one leg of my travels on a flight from hell, trapped inside a MRI with wings.  This would be a plane that is known to aviators as a Bombardier CRJ 200.

This airplane, while not the smallest one I’ve ever flown on, was the worst flying MRI I’ve experienced because– and I hope that I’m not going to get too technical here— THERE WAS NO AIR CONDITIONING AS WE WAITED AT THE GATE AND THEN ON THE TARMAC FOR TAKEOFF… ON A HOT SUMMER DAY… AT MIDDAY.

I’d love to tell you what airline I was on, but I’m not sure.  It was some pokey little airline, doing business under some obscure name, for some larger, formerly independent, airline recently acquired by some huge US airline.

In other words, the usual inane flying experience that I’ve come to know, pay exorbitant amounts of money for and loathe.

# # #

As fate would have it two things occurred simultaneously while I was on this flight from hell trapped inside a MRI with wings.

First of all, I had a hot flash.

To be clear, that would be my body spontaneously increasing its core temperature while I was sitting in the middle of the airplane, Seat 7C, where the ambient room temperature was close to 100ºF.

Trapped, I was.

And so far beyond toasty that I could barely keep conscious.  I could see my vision begin to tunnel– and I knew that I would faint, unless I thought of something fast.

So I shut my eyes, let my head droop and begin to remember how cold and bleak it was on our screened-in porch in February, when I’d step out there for a bit of fresh air, mid-afternoon, with my mug of hot tea.

Oddly enough this mental distraction kept me from passing out and it gave me an opportunity to decide that, if I lived to tell the story, I’d call out the airline on this unconscionable, unhealthy, inhumane, ridiculous, shameful, cheap-ass behavior.

Didn’t their mothers teach these airline PTB to not treat other human beings as chattel?  Hmmm?

# # #

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Actual MRI, similar to Bombardier CJR 200.

This would be the end of the story if it weren’t for the man next to me on the flying MRI with wings from hell who was an employee of one of the airlines that was part of the afore-mentioned cluster.

And he was taking notes.  Lots of them.

For real.

And he was telling me EVERYTHING that this flight crew was doing that was wrong, that was illegal according to FAA standards, and that was just plain stupid.

So despite being the most physically and emotionally uncomfortable I’ve been on an airplane in decades, I had the pleasure of knowing that this flight crew, a bunch of yahoos who really should be ashamed of themselves, were going to get in trouble.

AS IN FAILING TO PASS INSPECTION.  JOBS ON THE LINE.  HELLO REVIEW BOARD [I CAN ONLY HOPE].

It is because of this note-taking man that I can look back on this flight as a learning experience for the crew as well as for me.  To wit, I will never, ever in a hundred years set foot inside a Bombardier CRJ 200 again.

And if you know what’s good for you, you won’t either.

In Which I Grouse About Punctuation & Think Fondly Of Erma Bombeck

I RECEIVED an invitation to attend a talk, at a university, given by an author.  Profits from the talk go to support the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop, so it’s a good event to attend.

However, I find the invitation to be lacking, in a most disturbing way.  A way that displeases me, an English major and blogger extraordinaire.

A way, I have to believe in my educated-by-this-very-university heart of hearts, that would also displease Erma, a newspaper columnist and author.

~ ~ • ~ ~

AND HERE is what I’m talking about.  One of my pet peeves is that periods [as in punctuation] are disappearing, inexplicably, from the end of sentences.

  • Look at most billboards anymore.
  • Look at tag-lines on advertisements.  On the sides of trucks.  On the packages which hold the food you eat.
  • Look at this invitation in which many lines of words are sentences, but WHERE ARE THE PERIODS?!!

Invitation with no punctuation

~ ~ • ~ ~

HEAVEN KNOWS that I’d have flunked out of this university if I’d indulged in such disregard for punctuation.  I’m trying to not take this personally, but the evidence in this invitation shows…

A total lack of concern. For the very thing that I hold dear. Proper punctuation. Used almost frivolously. Stylishly. And without regard for cost.

Which is the only reason that I can fathom for why periods are disappearing from the end of sentences.  I have to suspect that in these economically challenging times, the up-charge for adding them to any written communication is so costly that leaving them out helps the bottom line.

That’s the reason, right? 

Day 5 Of My Self-Imposed So-Called Hermitic Existence

~ • ~

[I’m not sure, but I think that Ms. Bean has finally cracked.]

~ • ~

I’ve not left the house since Monday.  What with the white death and sub-zero temps outside I’ve chosen to become a hermit.  Sort of.

  • I see + talk with my husband every morning and night, so that would be un-hermetic.  Hermits don’t chat.  
  • I have no religious principles to underpin my decision to become a hermit, so that would be un-hermetic.  Hermits aren’t motivated by extreme weather avoidance.
  • I’ve groomed myself and have worn cheerful, colorful jammie bottoms + turtlenecks + Polartec tops, so that would be un-hermetic.  Hermits don’t look cute regardless of situation.

~ • ~

[Do you suppose that Ms. Bean has become loopy and wordy because of lack of sleep?]

~ • ~

I didn’t sleep well last night.  The weather forecasters predicted a low of -12ºF which we did experience.  Snuggled under the comforters I should have snoozed better, but the electricity went off in the whole subdivision.

I don’t know how long it was off, but when I awakened mid-snooze and realized that it was off, I trudged downstairs to open the cabinet doors under the kitchen sink so that the pipes wouldn’t freeze.  Then I checked the house temperature on the thermostat, which has a back-up battery.

It was 55ºF inside.

After that I went back upstairs, woke up Zen-Den to tell him the news, and tried to go back to sleep.  Sleep did not happen.  Operation Fret, however, ramped up and took over my mind.

~ • ~

[Do you think that Ms. Bean, poor frozen darling, will make it through another day at home by herself?]

~ • ~

I’m happy to report that the heat is on again.  I don’t know when it came back on, but it did.  We suburban hermits don’t need to know all the details about what keeps us warm.  We prefer to allow some mysteries to stay mysteries.

I’m sure that in years to come when I look back upon this week of frigid temps, boring days and heating mysteries, my mind will have turned it all into a positive memory, explained in glowing terms of self-reliance, creativity and personal growth.

Or some such nonsense.

But sitting here today, faced with another bitterly cold day of ho-hum, I’m more inclined to feel a need to whine about everything and everyone.  To discard any notions of bettering myself.  And to give in to the grumpy, enjoying it for all that it is.  *humph*

I’m Not Obsessed With Logic But…

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I’ve no doubt that some people have wondered the above about me.  [For the record, I tie my shoelaces all by myself.]  We all have our moments, don’t we?  

Uh huh.

So it is with the foregoing in mind that I tell you the gist of a conversation that I had with a casual acquaintance.  It’s a conversation that didn’t make sense to me, but then I was having one of my logical days while my casual acquaintance wasn’t. 

Oh well.

~ ~ • ~ ~

ACQUAINTANCE:  Congrats on your success.  I see that you’ve accomplished something.

MOI:  Thank you.

ACQUAINTANCE:  Did you do something different this time that contributed to your success?

MOI:  Yes.  {I explain how I did what I did.}

ACQUAINTANCE:  {Acquaintance asks 2 or 3 clarifying questions.}  Wow, so you did something entirely new?

MOI:  Yes I did.

ACQUAINTANCE:  WELL THAT WON’T WORK.  YOU CAN’T DO IT THAT WAY.  YOU’LL FAIL.

MOI:  Huh?!  But you just said…

ACQUAINTANCE:  {Lots of explanation about how what I did will never work and how wrong I was to even try.}

MOI:  Well, thanks for telling me this.

ACQUAINTANCE:  Oh sure.  Just trying to help.

MOI:  Uh huh.

~ The End ~

[Source for the above image is anyone’s guess.  I found it on FB.  I’ve seen it on Pinterest, stumbled over it on many blogs, but have been unable to find its original source.]

Deconstructing A Delightful Comment From A Dubious Source

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WP tells me that this comment is spam, but it’s so uplifting that I had to share it with you, my gentle readers.  Despite its tarnished origins, I think that it might be one of the best comments that I’ve received in 10+ years of blogging.  Let’s see if we can learn from it, shall we?

~ ~ • ~ ~

• Sentence #1 – a nice simple greeting.

You can never go wrong with direct and pleasant.   

•  Sentence #2 – flattery.

Oh yes, I like it.  More praise please. 

•  Sentence #3 – a glance backwards.

Isn’t it sweet when someone shares a piece of his life with you? 

•  Sentence #4 – more reminiscence.

I feel like I’ve found a kindred spirit here.      

•  Sentence #5 – action intended to create friendship.

Please do, I’m sure that he’s as charming as you are.  

•  Sentence #6 – flattery again.

Oh sir, I blush thinking about how much you like what I wrote here.  

•  Sentence #7 – expression of gratitude.

What better way to end a comment, I ask you?  ‘Tis perfect.