collecting tokens

Here we are, safely and comfortably settled in Saarbrucken. It’s day 2 of our trip. Or is it day 3? Well, it’s Monday night. I know that much. I guess that does make it day 3. It’s just that we’ve only had one actual night of sleeping in a room with walls and, you know, a bed.

Ah, beds. How we do take them for granted. Until the point where we’ve spent 24 hours or so sitting in various car, plane and train seats, or floors, not to mention walking and standing…

The trip here was…long. Not terrible. But well…long.

Day 1: Leaving home

We left home around 2:00 p.m., drove to the airport and checked in without incident. We were very happy to find out that the flight was underbooked, so we got to sit in a row with a free seat. It was fabulous news considering Phoebe would otherwise have been only in our very crowded laps.

The flight was good, though it involved too little sleep. I tend to forget how chaotic and noisy flights are, what with the beverage and meal service and people getting up and moving around. And with the lights on. It was almost as if people weren’t scheduling their activities around Phoebe’s bed time. Could that be possible?

Phoebe was very good overall, though too interested in what was going on. There was a bit of crying here and there, but not for too long overall. She was almost asleep when dinner was delivered. And then she perked right up and wanted my cantaloupe. I tried covering up my food to keep it from calling to Phoebe, but eventually worried the flight attendants would think this meant I was finished and snatch up my tray before I could eat. So eventually, John held Phoebe while I ate. Which Phoebe did not like. (Translation: she cried.) I shoveled the food in, some sort of lentil-ish loaf and mashed potatoes (the “special” dinner), and what was left of my cantaloupe, to a soundtrack of Phoebe’s various sad and angry vocal stylings. But then Phoebe settled in John’s arms before I finished eating, and eventually fell asleep. She slept well enough that we could transfer her to my arms at some point.

The flight was long, but seemed too short once Phoebe finally fell asleep, around 9:00 p.m. by our time. Meaning about 4 hours before our scheduled arrival in Paris. And then the lights came back on and the chaos started up again about an hour before landing, what with breakfast service and all.And then, before we knew it, we were on the descent.

Day 2: arrival in Paris (and departure)
So there we were on the ground at Paris, CDG. And we gathered up our big piles of stuff and eventually got off the plane. There were quite a lot of other babies and small children on the flight, and it was funny to see that most of those other families were also slow getting off the plane. And we headed out of the plane, and expected to see our stroller, which we’d checked at the gate. It wasn’t there. Neither were any of the many other gate-checked strollers. We hung around for a bit, with the gathering small crowd of baby-toting people, until we finally got the news that all the strollers had all been sent to baggage claim, as everybody “had already left.” Everybody, I thought, except for all the people travelling with small children!

So, we headed off to clear immigration and customs, joining the end of the line with the rest of the baby people. And I was crankily muttering to John that it defeated the purpose of checking strollers at the gate when they have the stroller sent off to baggage claim. And John said something like: “If that’s the worst thing that happens on this trip, it will be a pretty good trip.”

An excellent point.

But it turns out this was not the worst thing that happened to our stroller. We don’t actually know what happened to our stroller. Everybody else got their stroller. Ours didn’t appear. Apparently, the very cranky agent at the desk in Boston misdirected our stroller. I didn’t notice when she handed me my receipt that she’d written LAX (that’s LA) and some other possibly non-existent flight number, rather than CDG and our flight number. And sadly, we didn’t even have a name tag on the stroller. When I asked the agent if I could put my name on it, she just said, “I’ll take it now.” I complied. That was all she said to me, before she scribbled on a tag, and handed me the receipt, all the while ranting to a coworker about the crappy day she was having. I slunk off without even reading the tag. Was it spite?

So, our stroller is probably gone. It was a very nice stroller. Nicer than American Airlines (losers) will be willing to reimburse us for, according to the lost baggage agent. They offered us a loaner, some poor other soul’s lost stroller, from all appearances. But that sad little thing wouldn’t even open. I thought we’d be better off without it. We can apparently get reimbursed for up to 50 U.S. dollars for a new stroller. There was the possibility that they would be able to find the stroller, and get it to us.

So, off we stumbled and lugged. Happily, we’d at least brought our new lightweight carrier for Phoebe, so we were able to manage our luggage with Phoebe on my back. We had to get moving to get the train station to make our way to Saarbrucken, Germany.

We took the RER to Gare du Nord, then the Metro to Gare de l’Est, which was where we planned to take the newly opened TGV line, a super-duper fast train, direct to Saarbrucken. Notice how I used the past tense there…planned. Because, you see, all the TGV trains, for the day were sold out. One can purchase tickets in advance. However, I hadn’t. Unbeknownst to me, one can only purchase online at least 5 days in advance. Once I got my act together to buy, our departure was 4 days away.

No big deal, I thought. We’ll buy our tickets at the station.

But.

It turns out that not only were all the fast trains sold out for the day, so were the usual slow routes. What the agent finally arranged for us was to get a 2:00 train, after a 3 hour wait, to Nancy. Followed by a train to Metz. Followed by a train to Forbach. And then a train to Saarbrucken. Count ‘em, my friends. 3 changes, 4 trains. Plus 2 suitcases, 2 backpacks, a diaper bag, and one very tired toddler. Anyone care to do the math?

That’s all I have time for now. I’ll write more when I have a chance. For now I’ll say that I’m actually having a great time, in spite of various inconveniences. The first day of the conference was good, and tonight I get to sleep in a bed. Which I should do now, because it’s way, way too late. And because I really appreciate having a bed to sleep in.

Phoebe enjoyed looking at the planes at the airport.

p.s. If you are a relative of mine, and wondering why I haven’t emailed, it’s because I can’t manage to get to my email just now. I managed to check it just fine, but haven’t been able to get back on for the last few hours. I’ll try again tomorrow.

John just sent me a link to an article entitled “US Airways Says Thousands Still Stuck:”

PHILADELPHIA (AP) - Thousands of weary travelers faced a third day waiting to reach their destinations Sunday as US Airways struggled to recover from the ice and snow storm that paralyzed airports in the Northeast.

The airline was still trying to find seats for 100,000 passengers systemwide whose flights were grounded by Friday’s storm, spokesman Andrew Christie said. Many of the passengers were diverted to US Airways’ hub in Charlotte, N.C., on Friday.

Holy crap. 3 days of waiting. And all this happened 2 days after we got home. So close. Here I was feeling put out about standing in line at the check-in counter for an hour and a half. (Admittedly, the weather was perfect so no flights were actually cancelled and I was wearing a remarkably patient but nevertheless wriggly, and eventually hungry, 23-pound 1-year-old that whole time we stood in line, as we got more and more worried about missing our flight because nobody was giving any information, only to be bumped to another airline, leading us to be flagged for the extra security near-stripdown search, and not getting seats together because we were added to the flight last minute, and then once we did get on the plane, having to beg, plea and avoid fisticuffs with an ornery passenger who didn’t want to change seats so we could use the carseat for Phoebe since we’d paid for 3 seats while the whole plane waited…)

I do feel sincerely sorry for those poor US Airways employees who were working the ticket counters. Dealing with all those people. Thousands of irritated people. For days. Ugh. I swear, I hope those employees have some vacation time coming. And I hope that if they need to fly somewhere, that they get there. Perhaps by means of another airline.

And another funny thing. I just saw this NYT article this morning about airlines writing apology letters. I guess somebody has their work cut out for them.

One last thing. In defense of US Airways. We did actually get home by way of our original reservations with them. Their computer system was actually working on Wednesday, at least at the time we checked in. Also, they actually are comparatively family friendly, assuming you can get on your flight. They had preboarding for families with small children, which I guess has largely been done away with on other airlines. And they had a changing table in the lavatory. Plus the crew members and some of the other employees we encountered were courteous. See? I can say something nice about them. So maybe I should rethink their slogan from the “Shut up and fly” I’d suggested before. Here are some possibilities:

So, we made it out here to California. We almost didn’t get here last night. Phoebe actually did phenomenally well. For example, as we stood in line for an hour an a half at the U.S. Airways check-in counter, she was a trooper. She was amazing. Played games with John’s hat. Looked around at what was going on. Even smiled at other people standing in line.

Did I mention that we had to stand in line for an hour and a freakin’ half?? Before we could even check in? Not to mention going through security. But don’t worry! We didn’t miss our flight. Because it was delayed. So much so that we wouldn’t be able to make our connection in Pittsburgh. The last flight of the day going from Pittsburg to San Francisco on U.S. Airways.

Anyhow, we did make it. By way of getting bumped to another airline. Which was good. Because it seems that there was a good reason we got such a good deal on the tickets with U.S. Airways: they pretty much suck. It wasn’t so much just the slowness and the delays, which were apparently caused by a new computer system. The bigger problem was the lack of organization. The lack of courtesy to the people standing in line.

I was reflecting on some of the perky, cheerful slogans airlines used to have, remembering some from my childhood. United Airlines had “Fly the friendly skies” and Delta had “We love to fly and it shows.” American was “Something special in the air.” Such relics of another time. Airlines just don’t have such cheerful slogans these days.

Maybe the U.S. Airways slogan should be “Shut up and fly.”

I found a list of airline slogans. And can I just share that when I read two of TWA’s slogans, “Up, up, and away.” and “One mission. Yours,” I momentarily read the first word of the first slogan and the last word of the second. Which would make another good slogan for an airline of today.

Here are a few more potential airline slogans:

Today we embark on a big adventure: we’re flying out to California to meet my new nephew, Diego. This will also be Phoebe’s first trip travelling by airplane. Which leaves me feeling both excited and apprehensive. And at this point, I also feel a bit of panic. Because I still have a whole lot of packing to do. Because we will need to be bring with us a whole lot of stuff. Stuff in such quantities that we will wish we were traveling with a pack animal. (I understand that llamas can carry quite a lot…)

One of the many adventures we’ll have on this trip is making it through airport security. And I’m reminded of one more thing, which I didn’t include in my list from my post on that topic: the airport security playset, purportedly made by Playmobil, but now sadly appearing to have been discontinued. A few blogs wrote about it a while back. This one in particular shows some great pictures. Maybe if we had the playset, we’d be better prepared.

Okay. I really need to get going. I have to check the TSA website about travelling with a llama.

Dear kind readers,

I must apologize for the delay in responding to your queries. I’m afraid that it’s been almost 2 months since my last column, and I fear that I have left you unadvised on some important matters of etiquette concerning driver-pedestrian interactions.

Here is our first query, submitted by a kindly reader in response to my last column, and repeated below for your convenience:

Ms. Mismanners, please lend your thoughtful advice to me, in my time of need.

Every day I take the bus home, I cross a busy highway. At the crosswalk. With the appropriate crosswalk sign (the steady walking person). And nearly every day I do this, I am faced with a stream of irate commuters trying to make a right-hand turn through the crosswalk onto the highway.

I do my best to express my gratitude to the kindly drivers who actually notice this lowly pedestrian, generally by waving, smiling, or nodding to them. But what is the appropriate response to the drivers who speed up at the sight of me (to better zip around the corner, mere inches from my nose), or those who actually swing around the kindly drivers, and then yell at me when they have to come to a screeching halt or run me over?

Thank you in advance for your advice.

Dear conscientious pedestrian,

Your query is indeed a difficult one, and I have spent many an evening researching in the historic tomes of etiquette. One possible response would, of course, be to behave in a manner similar to the appropriate response to drivers who rudely splash nearby pedestrians by driving through puddles, as discussed in my previous column. Specifically, one may respond by hurling colorful rotting produce and idiomatic expressions. I recommend eggplant, tomatoes and the expression “rat bastard,” which was suggested as a useful phrase by a kind reader. However, for cases where driver rudeness pushes within life-threatening ranges, you may want to refer to the following sources:

The book Favorite Everyday Hexes, Spells and Sangria Recipes: a How-to Guide, by Philippa Martin-Rodriguez. Oxford University Press, 1963. In particular, chapter 27, entitled “How to exact revenge upon a discourteous driver” should prove to be particularly useful to you.

You may also find this more recent article to be of interest: “Crosswalk Curses and Highway Hexes,” by Martin Quimplemeyer, in Black Arts for the Urban Commuter Quarterly, Spring 2006, pp 38-45.

I hope this information will be of use to you.

Best regards,
Ms. Mismanners

The second query is on a very related topic, and I can only hope that the writer of the previous query has not become acquainted with the writer of this one due to my slow response.

Dear Ms. Mismanners,

I’m in a bit of an unusual situation, and would greatly appreciate your knowledgable advice. I would like to buy a gift for a fascinating and extraordinarily attractive young woman with whom I became acquainted quite recently, but I do not know what gift would be most appropriate to mark the occasion of our meeting. We met last Saturday as I was on my way to a convention of squid enthusiasts. As I passed through the intersection of Main Street and Fourth Avenue, I was reflecting upon a recent article I’d read on the mating habits of Batoteuthidae, and chuckling to myself about a gaff made by the author of the article, when I couldn’t help but admire the graceful movements of a stylishly dressed young woman as she rolled across the hood of my car.

While this remarkable young woman sustained only minor injuries, and is expected to be released from the hospital within the week, I still wish to extend to her some token of my regrets over the unfortunate incident, as well as my admiration of her character and person. Could you please suggest what gift I might present to her?

Sincerely,
a cephalopodophile

(Editor’s note: this letter is actually somewhat of a paraphrasing of the original query, which came via search engine requests in the form of a search for “gift pedestrian hit car etiquette”)

Dear cephalopodophile,

It is always difficult to shop for those whom you do not know well, even in cases where you have shared a connection such as the one you have described. Not knowing the young woman’s taste, you may want to consider a basket of fruit. An arrangement of a dozen or so long-stemmed pineapples makes a dramatic statement, and one that the recipient won’t quickly forget. You may also want to consider a limited edition commemorative figurine from the Precious Moments Death, Dismemberment and Debiliating Disasters series. Of course, either of these gifts will be most appreciated in combination with the receipt of a large insurance settlement, and the knowledge that your driver’s license has been revoked, that your car has been impounded and a that a restraining order has been issued.

Warmly,
Ms. Mismanners

I would be very happy to address other etiquette concerns from readers who may wish to submit questions to me. I promise that I will respond to those requests in a timely manner, unless I find I have better things to do.

When I was doing some preliminary research for my recent post on the Fisher-Price Little People airplane toy, I came across some obscure but interesting information about the Soviet origins of the plane design. I had to share. The article is supported by some incredible photos and diagrams, including this one of the first flight of the prototype.

I saw a NYT article this morning describing new airport security technology: passenger x-ray machines.

X-ray vision has come to the airport checkpoint here, courtesy of federal aviation security officials who have installed a new device that peeks underneath passengers’ clothing to search for guns, bombs or liquid explosives.

This creepy new technology can let TSA employees do a virtual strip-search. It actually looks very impressive, giving an outline of the passenger’s skin. And I guess I find it fascinating. But, and I repeat. I also find it creepy. And unsettling.

Anyhow, this news story reminds me of a number of things. So here. Have a list:

1. Superman (eg. 1978). He had x-ray vision. Could look through Lois Lane’s clothes to see her undies.
2. Total Recall (1990). Shows security screening of the future with people walking along through full-body x-rays. We get to see skeletal structure in this movie, though. Not skin.
3. The image the article shows looks a little like a 3D ultrasound. (Though the technology is totally different.)
4. And I’m reminded of the airport security game (Hat-tip to Schneier, who has lots of interesting things to say about the games we play relating to “security.”) This game lets you play an airport security employee, screening passengers and their bags as they try to pass through security. Your task is to keep up with the ever-changing, and frequently random, restrictions on items that passengers may have on their person or in their carry-on bags as they pass through. For example, sometimes passengers are not allowed to wear their shoes as go through the security gate. And sometimes they are not allowed to be wearing pants.

We’re back home now. After a somewhat bizarre ride home.

While down in New York, we’d visited John’s aunt and uncle for a bit, who gave Phoebe a new toy. (Actually, this gift was largely provided as a distraction to keep Phoebe from eating the cardboard jigsaw puzzle pieces that were spread out on their coffee table.) Phoebe’s new toy is also a puzzle, a wooden one with little cutout shapes with pictures of animals. When you pop each piece into place, once the batteries are installed, it emits a noise corresponding to the animal on that piece. John’s aunt and uncle didn’t have the two AAA batteries needed for the toy, so we didn’t get to hear the animal sounds till we got back to John’s parents’ house. There, we found some batteries, and installed them in the puzzle into the little compartment that is held closed by a phillips head screw. I tell you this for a reason.

Last night, as we were driving home, with various piles of stuff and bags of toys in the back of the car, we made a discovery. When the puzzle gets cold, it doesn’t need to have the pieces inserted or removed in order to activate the sounds. And we didn’t have a phillips head screw driver in the car with us. Or other tools, such as a hammer, that could be used to smash it open. The puzzle nearly got abandoned at a rest area. Happily, it did eventually quiet down when the car warmed up.

Lesson: When travelling with battery operated noise-emitting toys, consider removing the batteries first.

Request to toy makers: Please always include an “off” switch on your battery operated toys. Especially those that need tools to access the battery compartment.

Fun game: Can you identify these animal sounds?

Recently, the MBTA (Boston’s public transit system, also called the T) underwent some major changes, which can be boiled down to a single big change: you no longer use tokens. They’ve converted to a an electronic system involving the use of cards. Last week I mentioned that I got my first Charlie Card. Previously I’d unwittingly bought a Charlie Ticket. What’s the difference? Let me lay out the differences and similarities for you:

Charlie Card: Hard plastic, like a credit card. Very sturdy.
Charlie Ticket: Stiff paper, like a business card. Somewhat flimsy.

Charlie Card: Available for free, then you pay to add credit to it.
Charlie Ticket: Available for free, then you pay to add credit to it.

Charlie Card: Can be reused by adding credit to it.
Charlie Ticket: Can be reused by adding credit to it.

Charlie Card: Can be registered in case it gets lost.
Charlie Ticket: Can’t be registered. If you lose it, you lose. (Loser.)

Charlie Card: A T ride costs $1.70
Charlie Ticket: A T ride costs $2.00

Yes, this paper version of the MBTA card lets you ride the T for 30 cents more than if you take the same ride using the Charlie Card. Why would anyone want to do that? Why did I buy one? The short answer is cluelessness. I hadn’t even realized there were two different kinds of tickets. The Charlie Ticket is what’s available from the machines. To get your Charlie Card, you must know to seek out a distribution point and ask for one. Easy enough, as long as you know. The Charlie Ticket must be meant especially for newbies and tourists. A tax on cluelessness, as it were. Perhaps it should be called the Sucker Ticket, or the Clueless Card. But I suppose that would spoil the fun.

And so that this post won’t end up being just a rant, I should bring up some fun trivia that folks not around Boston may not know about. The name of the Charlie Card actually refers to a song: “The M.T.A. Song,” by the Kingston Trio, a song about a guy named Charlie who gets stuck riding around on the T. Funny thing is, it’s a song written in protest of a fare increase in the Boston T system, then called the MTA. (And by the way, all these recent changes to the T system have also been accompanied by a big hike in fare.) And here, how about a list. A list of songs that relate to my T adventures: