Flying to Japan, we all traveled on Northwest Airlines. From Boston, we took a quick jaunt of a flight to Detroit, which lasted all of two hours and was nothing if not uneventful. The plane was a small Embraer something-or-other, and was arranged to be two seats on either side of the aisle, with nothing but the bare seatback and tray table in front of you. In May, I traveled to Europe and flew Air France. My plane from Boston to Paris was a large Airbus A330, and had the delightful and novel (to me at least) feature of having a television screen in the back of the seat in front of me on which I could either watch several pre-programmed TV shows, watch a movie or three, play tetris, or view a realtime map of where our plane was in the world. Flying nine hours to Europe, I found this to be a luxury. Flying 17 hours to Japan however, I mused, this would become a virtual necessity. I had no doubt that the bulk of our flight, from Detroit to Japan, would take place on a similar plane with equal if not better amenities.
I was wrong. The Boeing 747 that transported us from Detroit to Narita was about as barebones as you could get, and the rude and sassy flight attendants did nothing to improve it. I say this not to gripe or whine, but to provide an explanation as to why my father, sister, and mother have from here on out in life, completely lost their abilities to gripe and whine about seating situations on airplanes.
You see, my family came to visit me in Japan last week. I was thrilled. Even though we planned it and I knew they were coming, seeing them in this new world to which I have become accustomed was warming and much-needed. When away from what you love and what you’re used to, it’s easy to compartmentalize and tuck the thought of them away for most of the day, but in those idle moments alone in your apartment or while looking out the window of a train, the longing for the familiar only becomes that much more painful and stinging. So, to see them and to be with them again was absolutely magical, and I couldn’t have been happier.
However, they don’t know how good they have it. Oh lord, do they not know. In order to come visit me, my family (and I admit they are right) thought it a wonderful idea to use up each and every single frequent flyer mile they have ever earned in their long history of earning said miles, and to use them to fly first class to Japan, on Japan Airlines. JAL is one of the finest airlines in the world, and their first class section is absurdly posh. Upon boarding, my mother, father, and sister each settled themselves into what can only be described as their own personal eggs. They were seated in these incredibly odd but insanely comfortable (I am told) pod-like things that basically consists of a fully reclining (!) Chay’s lounge-dealy that is crowned by a swooping, egg-shaped shade that can be adjusted to your liking. From this egg hangs a personal, flat-screen television much like the one from my Air France experience that can be adjusted and tuned to your liking. They were served LOBSTER. I received flan. My family may have traveled over seven thousand miles to come visit me, but it’s a distinct possibility I won’t be speaking to them.
No comments:
Post a Comment