I fought the good fight again the other day against any airlines that comfort the wealthy while misusing unpretentious folk.
We were boarding a plane while walking the gantlet of being stared at by wealthy people who sit up front where Daddy Pilot gives them liquid courage and flies them to our mutual destination. We arrive only a plane length behind the more moneyed fliers.
In one sense, that’s an equitable transaction. They and their rich aunts have buckled down and earned a lot of moola in their gilded lives. They spend their fannies off (as they prove by sitting in the big seats).
That gives us the ability to amass all those cheap tickets into sufficient money to get the plane off the ground. Most of the big spenders, even with their more pricey tickets, would find it a stretch to pay for the flight without the help of all the flying peasants who subsidize them.
To be fair, the wealthy passengers in the front seats are kind enough to spend big wads of green backs to help generate the restoration of our economy.
A person thinks of things like that while being squinted at by the rich guys and gals as we pass through the section of the plane with the large airline seats. They certainly do look us over before we go way back where conventional people sit in abnormally small seats, with about as much wiggle room as a strait jacket.
Surprisingly few of the well-heeled were wearing outfits appropriate to their station in life. Most of them sat there in ordinary shirts, with a few of them wearing unremarkable blue jeans.
I don’t think there were more than half a dozen people who wore suits and ties and $9,000 dresses, the way a rational person would expect. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.
But no. They just sat there with fancy smirks on their noble kissers, enjoying the procession of the riff raff. Mostly, they stared at us like a millionaire getting ready to buy another race track stud horse.
They were looking at us with an urbane expression that said, “Hello, loser. I am rich; what are you?”
It was ever thus in a teeter-totter world where wealth often has a jump on the less fortunate. True, many of those pudgy people in the wide seats are supplied with better food and drink. And that can be ironic. It is the well-heeled passengers who can most afford the best food and drink and who get it for free.
And it is the passengers most hungry who aren’t provided with tasty calories
Rank hath its privileges.
Not only did they let the wealthy passengers board first, but that tended to mark them as superior. The airline went too far, licking the boots of the wealthy passengers with the silliest slobber of all. They put a small throw rug on the floor and invited wealthy passengers to use it like a red carpet.
That rug was an opportunity to declare everybody equal. So as I was walking the ordinary path to board the plane, I stuck my peasant foot out and stepped briefly and triumphantly onto the tacky carpet of those who had the big seats.
That’s why this week’s Fourth of July reminds us of the red coats. The early settlers were the ones who fought for what came to be their new country. When it came time to put the British in their place, our forebears threw those red coats into the mud.
Even today, when men and women fly, remember that our ancestors created a country where, in the new land of justice, people would share the air with birds.
Contact Bill Hall at firstname.lastname@example.org or at 1012 Prospect Ave., Lewiston, ID 83501.