Off The Plane, Or My Rules For Saner Travel, Part 2

It shouldn’t be so hard, should it?  I mean, the hard part is over – now all you need to do is wend your way through the airport to your preferred mode of ground transportation.gty_jfk_airport_thg_120117_wb

So:

1.  Do NOT stand in the aisle while you put away all the crap you took out in flight.  Step into your row until you are actually ready to move forward.

2.  If we each let at least one person step into the aisle to exit, we won’t be delayed by much, and look!  you did a good deed.

3.  While waiting for your baggage (assuming you checked rather than forced your way on board with 87 different bags that you crammed into two for boarding, but now are being carried separately), spread out a little.  The bags are not going to move faster because you are all standing five deep right.where.they.exit.

4.  If you’re going to take a taxi, enter the queue at the end.  Just because some other loser took the chain down does not mean you get to jump the line at that spot.

5.  In any line, leave some space in front of you.  If I can feel your breath, you’re too close.  And by the way, the line does not move faster because you are crawling up my ass.

And as I said before:

Just be courteous. In fact, you can even be friendly. If you get rebuffed, so what? You’ll most likely never see that idiot again.

Sane travels!

Thoughts On A Plane, Or My Rules For Saner Travel

20140308-121030.jpg

1. The aisle is shared space, not a place for you to hang out because you don’t like your seat. But if you do, graciously move your ass when others are trying to use the aisle for its actual purpose.

2. If your child is behaving badly, at least pretend to be doing something about it. I will then pretend I believe you.

3. Stop bitching about the things none of can change, especially when they’re not new. Yes, it sucks that you had to check one of your carry-ons; yes, we all hate that the seats are smaller than ever; and yes, life is not fucking fair. Now shut up and pretend you are excited about your trip.

4. If you’re going to take your shoes off (and I do), please wear clean socks. And put your shoes on when going to the bathroom. We all know men on planes spray urine on the floor as a matter of course…it’s bad enough without getting it on your socks.

5. Speaking of airplane bathrooms:
-Close the seat before flushing – it sprays.
-Empty the sink after washing your hands.
-Yes, I am assuming you wash your hands. Do it.
-Wipe the countertop dry if you got it wet.
-In general, don’t be disgusting.

Last, but least, just be courteous. In fact, you can even be friendly. If you get rebuffed, so what? You’ll most likely never see that idiot again.

Sane travels!

Surprised?!? Really? Seriously?

A couple of times recently, a Bikram teacher has told me s/he is “surprised” I can do something.  I’m sure it was meant as a compliment, but I was really taken aback.  I mean, surprised? surprise That implies I should NOT be able to do whatever it is.  And why would s/he think that?  I know I’m a bit fat, awkward, and inflexible, but aren’t I in class in part to work on those things?  Shouldn’t a step in the right direction be “Good for you!”, not “Really? You did THAT?”.

I know I have more than a few readers who are teachers – both of yoga and of academics – and I’d be interested in your take on this.  Because frankly, it bugs the shit out of me.  It’s condescending, judgmental, insulting, hurtful…I could think of a few more adjectives, but you get the idea. 

You’re basically saying you didn’t think I could do whatever it is.  Well, while I don’t think I can do anything I set my mind to, I am pretty sure that (one example) my forehead touching my knees in Rabbit was not on my list of “I can’t”.   Oh, by the way…I’m proud of my forehead touching my knees.  That was DAMN hard for me.  When I started practicing, pressing my chin to my chest could totally bring on the beginnings of a panic attack, so to roll all the way down, ending up with my nose right.in.my.cleavage., and yes, my forehead pressed against my knees, is a BIG.FUCKING.DEAL.  To tell me you’re surprised negates my hard work and you might very well, if overheard by the struggling yogini next to me, make her feel like she can’t get there.

In general, I don’t think “surprised” is a good way to compliment someone, whether a student, a friend, or a co-worker.  The underlying thought, at least in my mind, is always going to be that you had unreasonably low expectations of me, and that’s just, well, not very nice. 

So, hey – good for you!  Look what you did!  Can you show me how to do it too?

%d bloggers like this: