Author Archive

When you’re voluntarily imprisoned in an airliner – buckled up and cinched in, seatback and tray table in the upright and locked position – one’s prevailing reality can change quickly. While you’re optimizing the miserly 11 cubic feet of space you’re allotted, seemingly trivial matters can swell into a wave of overwhelming stuff – a tsunami of tstuff that’s difficult to tsurf. Normally, a stable mentality can calmly navigate these matters. Then there’s me. Who, in this instance, managed to elevate what should’ve been a trivial custodial chore (tossing away a sliver of trash) into a Force 5 psychotic event.

 

 

My Tale of Airborne Angst

There’s something pacifying about having limited choices when airborne. You understand and are even comforted by these boundaries – like how a dog feels in its crate. I’m content to inhabit this space where you don’t have to contend with nagging nuisances. You’re just flying from point A to point B. There’s nothing to fuss over as you relax into your airborne limbo. And due to these pleasantly straitened circumstances, your life becomes simpler and naturally decluttered – like a cerebral cleansing where all the detritus of the day is blown away into the purifying Jetstream.

 

In these high-flying situations of clarity, little things mean a lot – a whole lot. And, in this case, a whole lot became way too much. At least it did for me. Because within this soothing swirl of airborne simplification I began hatching conspiracies where none existed. My susceptible mind became perturbed and, much to my chagrin, a bite-sized quibble, grew into an inedible hunk-a, hunk-a burnin’ hysteria. Allow me to explain.

 

Once upon a time, on a long flight to Maui, I had finished my Snyder’s Pretzel snack (good) and now I had that nasty little bag to discard (bad). Somehow, I failed to notice my flight attendant’s garbage run, as Gale darted down the aisle like a speedy donation collector at a big box church. How could I miss her billowing white Hefty bag signaling it’s time for the flock to donate their wretched refuse? Then again, maybe it was a Glad bag and not a Hefty bag. It all happened so fast I couldn’t be sure, and lord knows I have enough baggage of my own to deal with. Of course, the need for certainty on such a piddling issue like this Glad vs. Hefty baggage meant only one thing: I was deep down a rabbit hole, and my susceptible mind was now officially perturbed. For all I know, the garbage bag Gale whisked by me could’ve been a Kirkland brand. Yup, I was down a rabbit hole deeper than Alice in Wonderland. Pull up Hardiman, pull up!     Read the rest of this entry »

Disclaimer/Preamble/Full Disclosure: In this mostly fictionalized account of his life and times, I do little justice to William of Occam. But the present need for necessary distraction being so great, combined with my desire to provide such vital distraction; a gathering storm has arisen, and the approaching precipitate is set to rain all o’er you. And while I may deceive myself into believing I write these stories for some higher purpose, they usually end up triggering the same pleasure centers in the brain that are fired by cat videos. So although I do aim high, I generally hit rather low and end up hitting the funny bone in such a way that it gets tickled. To wit:

 

The Duke of Occam was a real guy who lived from 1287-1347, or should I say subsisted from 1287-1347 – it still being quite primitive in the last decades of the Dark Ages. In those bleak times a streaming service meant paying someone to ferry you across a river. It was a benighted time – I mean the spatula hadn’t even been invented yet, and people were so dumb, sometimes they forgot how to exhale and would die from asphyxiation. The breathing-challenged were advised, “Help is coming, but don’t hold your breath.” And the help finally did come in the form of Rudolph Heimlich of Nuremberg, who saved thousands by imparting his now famous maneuver for combatting “stuck diaphragm.”

 

Set against this squalid backdrop, the Duke of Occam managed to enjoy his life as a celebrated philosopher, as well as a despotic landowner. Remember, the idea of “benevolence” didn’t really develop until the arrival of the Renaissance in the 15^th century, and “despotic” had not yet become a disparaging term. It was just a standard issue descriptor of all landlords in that era. If you were a landlord in the 14^th century, the only template available was to act despotically. There was no room for wannabe despots in the cozy little Landlord’s Guild – unless you wannabe drummed out for lack of depravity.

 

If you yearned to behave benevolently in the 1300s, you’d be best advised to ferment mead in a monastery or spend 3 weeks trying to artistically compose a calligraphic “G” at the beginning of a Bible manuscript. Help was on the way here too, courtesy of another German polymath named Johannes Gutenberg who invented the printing press round about 1440. So, while the Duke of Occam’s full-time job may have been to despotically oppress the faceless masses he lorded over, he also had an emerging benevolent side that expressed itself through philosophy; and that’s how he came to formulate the clunky principle eponymously referred to as Occam’s Razor – more on that later. Read the rest of this entry »

1. Spelt, Millet and Amaranth: A Celebration of Ancient Grains
2. American Hammertoe: Tendon Lock in the Distal Phalanx
3. Greek Mythology: A Bunch of Made-up Stuff Not Worth Knowing
4. “Everything OK Hun?”: The Adorable Way in Which Husbands Try to Participate in Their Marriages
5. Thump, Thump, Thump: When the Washing Machine is Imbalanced
6. Elon Musk: The Man, the Fragrance
7. Salt, Sugar and Fat: The Making of President William Howard Taft
8. America’s Sinkholes: A Study in Spontaneous Depressions
9. Outcasts, Hermits and Loners: The Sad Few Among Us Who Do Not Have a Podcast.

***********And 2 Politically Incorrect Ones**************

10. A Fresh Look at the World’s Most Popular Canal: The Vaginal Canal
11. When Man First Began Walking Erect: The Origin Story of Homosexuality

Lest you think it wasn’t God’s intention for man to eat in the sky, there is biblical precedence for it. So it is written in Ezekiel 1:15:

 

And so it came to pass that Ezekiel saw the wheel

Way up in the middle of the air

And he saw that it was good

And was glad he had ordered the kosher meal

 

Dumb people (and there are far too many) often invoke Philistine logic when they say, “If man were meant to fly, he’d have wings.” Smart people (and there simply aren’t enough) counter, “Well we do have wings and they’re not so much God-given as they are Boeing-given.” And this discussion in comparative intelligence brings us to today’s topic: Air Fare, Pie in the Sky, Elevated and Plated. In other words, high-flyin’ airline dinin’.

 

Humans (which are found everywhere except for certain parts of Moscow) celebrate and appreciate the bonanza that food provides. Eating is such a vital event that a grateful public often takes a reverent moment to say grace before dining. Others adopt a more brutish view of the pre-meal benediction and gruffly declare, “OK peeps, dig in” or “Hey Brenda, you got any more a those hot sauce packets?” But regardless of whatever ceremony is performed before dining, most meals are taken in a chair while sitting at a table. And this is true whether dining in an airplane or in a kitchen. Again, in a biblical way; as above, so below. Except when you’re dining above, you’re 8 miles high and traveling at 450 kts, so it’s not exactly, “as above so below.” In any event, let’s examine the “above” part as we explore Fare in the Air.

 

 

A True Change in Cabin Pressure as Your Plane Transforms into a High Stress Restaurant

 

Once meal service is announced an aircraft converts from a sophisticated airborne passenger delivery system to a sophisticated airborne food delivery restaurant. Flight attendants transform into glorified waitresses working the front of the house and pilots on the flight deck become the kitchen staff, quietly managing the back of the house even though they have no duties as assigned. It’s a restaurant in the sky as its passengers become fuselage food fans. Meal service is a very welcome hour intrusion into a multi-hour flight. A complete distraction from your inner dialogue continually asking you, “Are we there yet?”

 

Are You a Fuselage Foodie? A Sampling of Airline Cuisine

 

Air Jordan

There’s a new Middle Eastern Airline called Air Jordan (not affiliated with Nike). They offer a Hummus Snack Tray that comes with dates. However, if you’re in a committed relationship and you don’t want any dates, you can order one with just crackers. Additionally, if you’re hummus-phobic, or, on the advice of a physician, are on a mashed chickpea-free diet, you can order your Hummus Snack Tray without a trace of enthusiasm.

 

Air Jordan is also experimenting with a regional take on the all-time breakfast favorite of ham and eggs. It’s seasoned for the Arabic tongue and is called Hamas and Eggs. A happy meal version for kids is flavored with storybook charm. It’s called Green Hamas and Eggs. There’s also the Bottomless Bowl of Hezbollah filled with shredded promises and candied Kalashnikovs. Air Jordan was said to be kitchen-testing a seafood dish but cancelled it after discovering the Jihad had had haddock. They continue to reach out to the Jewish state in a gastronomic way with Air Jordan CEO Phil Knight (not that Phil Knight) saying, “The thing of it is is, is Isreal willing to eat baba ganouje?”  

 

United Airlines

The kitchens of United Airlines are formulating a hemispherically appropriate continental breakfast. The continental breakfast items depend on the continent you happen to be flying over. If you’re over an ocean they won’t serve it at all, if you catch my continental drift. When United is flying from South America to North America, they sometimes abruptly swap out their continental breakfast causing a major continental plate shift from croissants and jam to yogurt parfaits. Oh and BTW, I encourage everyone to fly United, because no one wants to fly apart.

 

Aer Lingus

This Hibernian national airline serves a very traditional 7-course Irish meal. It’s a baked potato and a six pack. And it’s served without irony.

 

DebonAir

This opulent airline merged with the snooty French airline Savior Faire Air in 2018. They only offer 1^st class seating. Upon boarding, each passenger receives a complimentary jar of Grey Poupon. Oh, how the passengers love to tickle each other’s’ fancies by presenting an appetizing canapé to their seatmate and requesting, “Would you please Poupon this?” Very classy indeed.

DebonAir offers a Connoisseur’s Cheese Platter – 4 very soft cheeses wrapped in ridiculously thin aluminum foil that’s impossible to remove. The inability to remove this aluminum skin actually works in the passengers favor because it turns out the body needs trace amounts of aluminum in its diet, and you might as well get them in one big dose at 40,000 ft. than risk being caught licking your neighbor’s aluminum siding after midnight (been there). The cheese platter costs only $4.50 when purchased on the ground, but once the plane departs and climbs up into the stratosphere, so do the prices. Depending on how high the plane flies, costs can soar up to $18. At this price most cheese buyers become lactose intolerant and settle for the free pretzels instead.

 

China Air

They offer an all-to-authentic pupu platter. It’s fittingly served with buttered nose plugs and toilet paper napkins.

 

Vegan Airlines

Its menu is to DEI for (in the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion sense). Vegan Airlines signature dish is the Vegie Wedgie Salad consisting of Baby Lettuces, Impressionable Parsnips, Bicurious Broccoli and Gender Dysphoric Rhubarb. It’s usually served with a wink and a nod. Flavorless and unsatisfying low carbon footprint options are available: Watercress on Rice Cakes, Cous Cous Cous and Spilt Fritters (which is Spelt spelled wrong).

 

Ambiguous Air

This confused airline’s meal planners have devised a surf and turf befitting its’ dualistic status. This dish features a Large Small Mouth Bass, Jumbo Shrimp and Elongated Short Ribs. Served with a tall glass of melted ice, this entrée will leave you wondering, “Why does my credit score take a hit just because I apply for a credit card?” Ambiguous indeed.

 

Illuminating Ruminating

Sometimes the repetition of an extraordinary event makes the exceptional seem mundane – a case of familiarity breeding unexamined complacency. But maybe the next time you’re enjoying a savory hot meal in the comfort of a padded seat at 40,000 ft. hurtling through the stratosphere at 450 kts while 4 feet away on the outside of the thin aluminum skin protecting you it’s -40° and the wind howling at 80 kts, perhaps you’ll have a renewed appreciation for your extraordinary circumstance.

If at the dawn of aviation, cabin crew members were originally called flight attendants instead of stewardesses, the term flight attendant would be viewed as a derogatory term. Yet in a twist of semantics the reverse has happened today whereby the job descriptor stewardess is somehow seen as defamatory and the term flight attendant is viewed as some kind of heroic euphemism, riding in to save the poor stewardesses from belittling job title infamy.

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I do not view the term stewardess as throwing shade at our airborne cabin crew – far from it. I believe the term flight attendant is more derogatory than stewardess. And I further contend that had cabin crew members been called flight attendants originally, there would be a backlash against this disparaging term. I could foresee an anti-flight attendant notion growing in the public mind along these lines; as in, “Oh, so you’re saying these vital members of the cabin crew merely “attend” to things on a flight. Well, how dismissive and demeaning is that?”

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I also speculate that over time, the clamor to alter the demeaning term flight attendant would become loud enough that a public consensus might arise whereby people would agree that we should convey appropriate status on these critical airborne workers. They do much more than merely “attend” to matters of flight. In fact, they superintend and oversee matters vital to the smooth running of a flight 8 miles high at 450 kts. These aren’t hall monitors. They are stewards of air safety, communication and service. They manage the front of the house while pilots manage the back of the house. Yes, aviation can sometimes be compared to a high-flying restaurant and if you’ve ever had the Hummus Snack Tray over Salt Lake City, you know what I’m talking about.

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But what should the flight attendants’ new job title be? Perhaps we should elevate their station by calling them stewardesses and stewards. To me the term “stewardess” better reflects their lofty status and is more respectful than calling them mere “flight attendants.” To me, the job title “flight attendant” is one step removed from “bathroom attendant.” Whereas the job title of steward or stewardess has a more noble cachet, as in: “George Washington was a worthy steward of our nation’s ideals.”

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Of course, as mentioned above, we all understand that when it comes to these aviation job titles, the exact opposite occurred. The supposedly insulting job descriptor “stewardess” has been eschewed and replaced with today’s preferred term “flight attendant.” Even while writing this piece, Microsoft Word kept suggesting I substitute flight attendant where I had used the word stewardess. Clearly, they know which way the semantic winds blow.

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And so, it is for numerous incongruous instances like the one elucidated above, that children think adults are cray cray and shouldn’t really be in charge of anything, let alone making job title rules. Allow me to take a moment to cite some other reasons why kids think adults are cray cray:

• Obviously, there is only one consciousness we all share, but adults have decided to express it in over 10,000 religions…and not one of them wants you to have any fun…except Disney, and they aren’t even tax exempt.
• Everyone agrees that Shakespeare’s plays are magnificent theatrical treasures, but few, if any adults, are actually willing to sit through one. What does that say to Jonas and Kylie?
• Kids also don’t understand why they must learn algebra when they’ll never have to use it…come to think of it, adults think the same thing…so why are we learning it?

I’m a distracted writer who has derailed his own story with talk of kids’ impressions of adult foibles. So let me get back on track here by reiterating that it is a peculiar twist of semantic fate that the term flight attendant has replaced stewardess as the preferred term in referring to a cabin crew member, when it just as easily could’ve been the other way around, if only they were originally called flight attendants.

 

 

 

 

It’s been said by people with credit scores much higher than mine, that “the devil is in the details.” But I see things differently, because for me, “the humor is in the details” and that’s what prompts this overly elaborate think-piece highlighting the late June Lockhart’s impact on Petticoat Junction. And if you’re like me (highly unlikely), a more winning premise for an essay never existed. So here goes…

Dateline: My kitchen, sitting near the air fryer, nibbling on yogurt-covered craisins while typing this on my iPhone.

 

Well, why wasn’t I there on Day One with a gushing elegy on the passing of Lost in Space TV mom and later Petticoat Junction surrogate mother June Lockhart? All I can say in my defense is this: the fault, dear reader, lies not in myself, but in my stars.

 

First of all (and just so you know, there will be no “second of all”), I’d like to thank my reading public for bringing this weighty and grave matter to my full attention. Without your siren call this essay would not exist and literary posterity would be forever diminished. June Lockhart’s passing begs the question; would Petticoat Junction have survived the untimely death in Sept. 1968 of Shady Rest innkeeper Kate Bradley (played by veteran TV actress Bea Benaderet, the real life mother of actor Jack Bannon of Lou Grant fame who was married to Ellen Travolta {John’s sister} – you may now exhale)? 

I say emphatically NO! If not for Ms. Lockhart’s matronly sangfroid and prim but appealing countenance, there would’ve been no seasons 6 or 7 of Petticoat Junction. I say again for emphasis: no seasons 6 or 7! Let that sink in.

Imagine a world where we never got to see the Clampett’s arrive in Hooterville on the Cannonball Express for their universally acclaimed 2-part visit. Imagine being denied the pleasure of witnessing Uncle Joe’s cantankerous reactions to the vicissitudes of life. Maybe Uncle Joe didn’t know what a vicissitude was, but he sure knew how to be cantankerous when they were in the vicinity. Suffice to say, a future without seasons 6 and 7 of Petticoat Junction would’ve been a hellish TVscape of missed opportunities.

 

 

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I say this and more.
With Bea Benaderet’s illness and subsequent absence from the show, June’s guiding presence as Dr. Janet Craig was essential to the success of the Shady Rest Hotel and presaged a whole other vector in boondock hospitality. This hayseed sensibility was fostered by the genius of Beverly Hillbillies creator Paul Henning – whose cross pollinated hit TV shows (The Beverly Hillbillies, Green Acres and Petticoat Junction) presented an idyllically bucolic matrix of homespun humor and backwoods civility.

 

 

 

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In Petticoat Junction, Ms. Lockhart was surrogate mother to sisters Betty Jo, Bobbie Jo, and Billie Jo, but not to Uncle Joe. And she never advertised the fact that in comparison to dearly departed Kate Bradley’s character, Ms. Lockhart’s character (Dr. Janet Craig) not only had a pulse, but also a much higher credit score. And what a resumé she amassed, including playing Timmy’s TV mom in Lassie.

Inarguably Ms. Lockhart’s unique blend of urban sophistication and small-town urbanity saved the show from being overtaken in the ratings by Jimmy Durante Presents the Lennon Sisters. Her capable and friendly demeanor presented a mighty coat rack on which Petticoat Junction characters could hang their well-worn coonskin caps.

Petticoat Junction also fended off ratings challenges by That Girl (a pre-Mary Tyler Moore independent-girl sitcom starring Danny Thomas’s darling daughter and future Phil Donahue wife Marlo – who, by the way, could also turn the world on with her smile). Had Ms. Lockhart not graced that set, it would have doomed Petticoat Junction to an early demise and forced CBS into reruns of Rat Patrol which by then was in color (good) and becoming anachronistic as anti-war sentiment grew (bad).

So, we all owe a great debt of gratitude to June. But not only June. We must also extend our appreciation to July and August as well.

Ms. Lockhart (not to be confused with Calista Flockhart) lent class and intellectual heft to this corn-pone rural comedy thereby elevating its everyman conventionality to something more refined and aspirational. In other words, she did everything Uncle Joe did, except she did it backwards and in heels. So did J Edgar Hoover for that matter, but that’s more a story for NBC’s Dateline.

Perhaps my grandiloquent response to June Lockhart’s passing is just the moonshine talking. I mean right now, I don’t know where I end, and the drywall begins. Although I think it’s some place over by the butler’s pantry. And the weird thing is, we don’t even have a butler.

Second of all (I know I promised no “second of all” but consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds, and a man in my position {still at the kitchen table with my yogurt-covered craisins} cannot afford to look redickilous), there’s a time for thinking inside the box, and this isn’t it. My mind didn’t get small, the world did. So, tell Mr. Henning. Yes, tell him I’m ready for my closeup.

In any event, I admit I was lax in not acknowledging the passing of June Lockhart sooner. I took my eye off the ball and fell down on the job. But you (my public) saved me (saved all of us really) from not only an act of omission on my part, but also a chance to celebrate JL’s 100 years. One hundred years of a life well-lived.

So let us all – each and every one of us in Whoville (where I imagine Pete Townshend also resides) – take a moment to…. ♫Ride the little train that is going down the track to the Junction…Petticoat Junction♫

1. Tagalogs – Sold only in the Philippines (now you’re talkin’ my language)
2. Sin Mints – Wickedly good
3. Sapostas – Saposta taste like Samoas
4. Pecan Sandinistas – Popular in Nicaragua
5. Chocolate Taints – This is one funky cookie
6. Do-si-dids – Past tense of Do-si-dos. Popular on the Square Dance circuit
7. Caramel Cameltoes – Must be 18 yrs old to purchase
8. Issac Newtons – The fig-filled treat for smarties
9. Aluminumfoils – Sister cookie to Trefoils. Fun to chew if you have fillings.
10. S’lesses – Slesses is S’mores. Sounds like I’m lithping

1. Are you currently being threatened by anyone carrying a spear and wearing war paint.

1. Fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot
2. Having plantar fasciitis and having Planters’ Peanuts
3. Being self-assured and having no idea what the hell’s going on
4. Eating chicken and eating something that tastes “kinda like chicken”
5. The left side of the road and the right side of the road
6. This One Will Hurt Your Head Alert: There’s a Thin Line Between: Getting a little Russian Dressing on the side and having your waiter bring you an actual small Russan guy putting on his clothes next to you

 

There’s a Thin Line Between:

1. Petting your kitty, or petting your pussy (C’mon people, get your mind out of the litter box. I’m talkin’ about cats)
2. Using the word “sesquipedalian” and just being a polysyllabic *sshole
3. Supreme self-confidence and cringing indecision
4. Being extravagant or just being extra vagant
5. Having said “Having said that” and saying “At the end of the day”….. and being an *sshole
6. Coveting thine neighbors cuticles and being mentally disturbed
7. Thinking that because you believe something makes it true. (It may be, but the truth doesn’t care what you believe. It’s just truth.)

 

There’s a Thin Line Between:

8. Knowing your hot water heater is actually a cold water heater and whatever the opposite of that is
9. Being an *sshole and using the word onomatopoeia
10. Believing the earth is flat and being stupid. (Actuality there is no line – you are stupid.)
11. Playing Words with Friends and playing Words with Acquaintances
12. Watching paint dry and just staring at a wall
13. Staring at a wall and meditating
14. Meditating and watching paint dry (Full circle folks)

 

And remember, just 1098 days till the next Leap Day! Woo Hoo!