DEBRIS.COMgood for a laugh, or possibly an aneurysm

I fly only infrequently, except in my dreams, and so today I was shocked at the amenities of a modern aircraft. The first class cabin looked like a Barcalounger showroom; the seats were full-sized recliners, with private footrests, a mini-bar, a small desk and writing area, and no doubt fresh linens, scalp massage, dialysis, shoe shine, and tire rotation. The most striking difference probably adds very little comfort value to the experience at all — the seats were all canted at about a 20 degree angle. I suppose this allows the airline to fit a few more rows in, front to back, but for me this break from the traditional linear arrangement was the clearest statement that first class is special: a subtle mental break away from the fact that, no matter how far back your seat tilts, you’re still sitting in a metal box for 7 hours breathing the same air as all the 4th-class folks, the livestock in the “economy” pen.

I suppose I should concede that the wealth of innovation apparent at the front of the plane has trickled back somewhat. Even in coach, every seat has a private video monitor and a choice of 4 free movies. This airline, at least, has given up on the proprietary audio cables they all used to use to prevent any passenger from scamming a free $4 movie after having paid $500 for the seat.

Still, it’s cattle class back here. The food wasn’t awful, but I still feel that, after we arrive, in addition to the Hot Towelette we should be treated to a Complimentary Delousing. Hearing people around me wheeze and snort experimentally, not to mention hacking up what sounds from 2 rows away like a hanky full of alveoli, is just about enough to make me swear off travel forever.

The vacuum toilets are new, too. Gone are the stainless-steel affairs with the hinged flap streaked with foulness; these commodes follow a simple funnel design. But I learned that holding the lid open to watch them flush isn’t that interesting. Neither is having urine sprayed back onto one’s pants.