They should really put a back door on those things. For if you could come in through the rear and never even saw what the first class seats look like, it would make the whole experience much easier. But as the old song from World War I once so eloquently put it, “how ya gonna keep ’em down on the farm after they’ve seen Par-eee?”
Maybe it’s because I’m old enough to still remember when flying was not just a means of transportation, but a life event. For in earlier years, folks always dressed up before they got on board whereas today much of the public is not exactly looking their best. That was all before airlines became simply flying cattle cars, however, designed to address the algorithm of “how many pounds of fare-paying passengers can you fit into an increasingly finite space?”
But it’s only made worse when you have to pass through the first class accommodations in order to reach the economy or coach class. For on a recent trans-Atlantic trip I couldn’t help but notice that the elite travelers not only have seats that stretch into virtual beds, but they actually have little compartments with swinging doors into each of their private spaces, making their part of the plane no less than a flying gated community!
All of which brought to mind an old Seinfeld joke about that moment when the flight stewards pull the curtain across the Great Divide between the people with class and the great unwashed masses with a look that suggests, “If you’d only worked just a little bit harder I wouldn’t have to do this!”
How grateful I am, however, that the trip to Heaven involves no such class distinctions. Rich or poor, young or old, legal or illegal, your status is irrelevant when it comes to God. For all He will ask us if if we knew His Son, and if so, did we follow Him while we journeyed here below.
I have to confess, though, that if it was up to me, I’d have another question before I let folks into Heaven, as well. Reflecting the reality of original sin, in fact, I’d like to know “When flying, did you thoughtlessly recline your seat in coach all the way back, disregarding the extreme discomfort you caused the person behind you, clearly failing thus to love your neighbor as yourself?”
But then perhaps my economy class chip is showing.
I laughed out loud in my session! ( I was sneaking a peak at email). The only hope is to snag an aisle seat, but I do so love looking out the window.
Hope you’re soaking up lots of grandchild love, Sherry
Sent from my mobile.
On the really nice planes, they’re decent enough to place the entrance between first class and the rest of the airplane. That way, if you’re one of the peons, the flight attendents position themselves so as to politely block both your path and your view, preventing you from turning left, and herd you toward the coach seats, to the right, without you’re even knowing of the existence of that other world (unless, that is, you happen to see one of them taking a glass of champagne or hors d’ouvres to one of the “beautiful people”).
I know this because, when I went to England in 2011, I blew every air mile I had ever accumulated with Continental to buy “Upper Class” seats there and back on Virgin Atlantic. It truly was a glimpse of Heaven on Earth (or, more correctly, in the sky).
I like your observation, but I prefer to think that we will all get first class seats on our final flight, find that our “baggage” has been conveniently lost on the way, and not even complain about it or miss it.
Loved your note! Give our love to all and a special hug to Zed for me.
Having experienced both sides of “the great divide” I can identify! Heaven will be so free of that stress 🙂