I once flew on a Sun Country plane, and they served hot dogs. It was like going to camp. You expected the flight attendants to say, "We're going to disable the smoke detectors and make s'mores!" I loved that airline.
But it's different now. Certainly you've heard how the company left people stranded in Mexico, unable to get home. Nothing could be done, passengers were told.
Imagine if those abandoned had been financiers who wanted to invest money in the airline. Then it's possible something could be done.
In the old days of flying, it was different. Right? You put on your white tails and gloves, checked your top hat at the counter and off you went. While the plane was climbing, the stewardesses were throttling Cornish game hens so you could have a fresh poultry dinner in an hour.
A tube from the ceiling delivered Champagne. When the plane began its descent, you got hot towels, a shoeshine, manicure and everyone passed around a puppy. Upon disembarking, the pilot personally gave everyone $5.
Well, no. The truth: There was so much cigarette smoke that the characters in the book you were reading developed a nagging cough; the airport food consisted of sawdust hamburgers and motor-oil coffee; and it cost a lot.
Now? We have one of the best airports in the country, planes have Wi-Fi and you can watch a movie on the back of the seat in front of you. In the old days, if you wanted to watch a movie, "Ben-Hur" was projected on a shoe box lid 20 rows away.
But still we complain about flying. Why?