Alaska; the return trip
Next day was time to head home. Which means that once I again, I commend myself to the goodness and mercy of Alaska Airlines.
First thing in the morning, I called customer service.
"Hi. I'm supposed to be flying out of Petersburg, Alaska today. I did not receive the confirmation call which I was expecting, so I just wanted to make sure everything's okay."
"Did you make a reservation?"
"Yes..." (thinking but NOT said aloud: No, I was expecting a confirmation call because I think you're all psychic and just KNOW when I need to fly, without my bothering with this 'reservation' thing.)
She rattles at the keyboard for a minute. "Did you pay for it?"
"Yes!"
After another 4-5 minutes of key rattling, she finally says "Oh, there it is." (This is NOT comforting, thank you!) She confirms that I'll be leaving that afternoon, and that I'll be allowed on the plane.
I walk down town for breakfast, and then back to the other end of town (what? it's not a long walk) to check out the book store. While I'm poking through the stacks, the power goes out. To the entire town. And apparently to Wrangell and another town as well. I am assured that if the airports all shut down just for little things like power outages, half the scheduled flights through Alaska wouldn't happen. Somehow this is not terribly reassuring, as it's been my experience that half of the flights through Alaska don't happen. (What, me, cynical?)
I spend about 2 hours chatting with a random guy in the hotel lobby (yeah, I'm odd), and then hit the little cafe outside of the hotel for lunch. Sweet potato and rock fish curry over brown rice--good stuff, Maynard. Power came back on somewhere in there.
Then we head to the airport; T and J are on the same flight out as I am, and there are a couple people coming in on that flight that Dennis and Toni are supposed to pick up. I go to check in, and the computer refuses to print me a boarding slip or baggage claim strip. Takes 3 tries for the woman to get it done. I realize that this is probably a result of the power outage and not anything the airline did, but still!
Petersburg is a tiny airport; they don't have the baggage x-ray machines, so everything gets searched by hand by TSA. And swabbed for nitrates. Oddly, even though the clothes I was wearing when I tested positive in Ketchikan are in the bag, they pass it. I do end up having to send my carry-on through twice though, because they couldn't figure out what my camera was on the first trip. *sigh*
So we all board, and the flight attendants come by and tell me to turn off my reader. Since I'm still wondering exactly what that's about, I ask. And get one of the stupidest, blatantly bullshit answers EVER. FAA regulations (I am told) require that all devices, even those with no transmit functions, be turned off because (drum roll please) they want people to pay attention to the safety spiel and these devices would be distracting. Riiiight... because the bloke next to me reading his book, and the woman over across the way with the magazine, those people aren't distracted? Why don't these (dare I say non-existant?) FAA regulations require that books, magazines, games, and newspapers be stowed also? And how come I can't turn the reader back on as soon as the flight attendant is done talking instead of waiting until we get to 10,000 feet? Your answer, it makes no sense! A 6 year old could do better.
Bruce suggests that prior to my next vacation, I should download into the reader the FAA regulations regarding passenger conduct, as well as TSA regulations regarding passengers so that when I get obviously bullshit answers like that (or like the one we got on our Knoxville trip, where the flight attendant claimed it was a TSA regulation that passengers not seated in 1st class couldn't use the lavatory in the 1st class area) I can ask them to show me the pertinent section.
Anyway, rather than deal with turning the reader off every time we land as we island skip down the coast, I start in on the book I bought at the Petersburg book store. Little Brother, by Cory Doctorow. As with most of Doctorow's work, it's available for free download on his site. It was a terribly apropos book, given my recent frustrations with TSA. Basic plot is a teenage kid in California, and his struggles with a Homeland Security Department gone bat-shit (even more so than currently in real life) after a terrorist attack. I recommend it. (As you may have guessed from the links to buy or download it, yeah?)
The flight to SeaTac was actually fairly uneventful. Then I spent 3 hours sitting in SeaTac waiting for my next flight. Picked up dinner at Waji's, which was not bad, but nothing spectacular either. Was continually irritated by the "Talking Fountain" in the waiting area. Someone's idea of art, apparently, is to hook a speaker up to a drinking fountain, so that whenever anyone gets water, it makes quite loud, repetitive sounds like rocks banging together under water. Maybe I just don't get art, but I found this intrusive and annoying, not pretty or soothing.
SeaTac decided to play switchery-doo with the gates, and no announcements were made that I heard. I figured it out (just) before they finished boarding, and the flight to Spokaloo was uneventful.
One final note about airport security: I apparently had a pretty basic misunderstanding of how the "metal detectors" work. I wear this shiny piece which Bruce gave me. As you can see, it's not subtle. This is a big chunk of metal. Not a single security machine cared. I was vaguely aware that it was possible to sneak ceramic or polymer weapons through security, but it had never occurred to me that I could walk through with over a quarter pound of metal. Apparently, stainless steel doesn't interfere with electromagnetic fields enough to trip the security. So you can get through security with practically any sort of weapon, if you're prepared. Meanwhile, people who are absolutely no threat are delayed, harassed, and imposed upon. Does this make me feel safer? Hmm. Nope. "Security theater" indeed. Americans lose, the terrorists win.
First thing in the morning, I called customer service.
"Hi. I'm supposed to be flying out of Petersburg, Alaska today. I did not receive the confirmation call which I was expecting, so I just wanted to make sure everything's okay."
"Did you make a reservation?"
"Yes..." (thinking but NOT said aloud: No, I was expecting a confirmation call because I think you're all psychic and just KNOW when I need to fly, without my bothering with this 'reservation' thing.)
She rattles at the keyboard for a minute. "Did you pay for it?"
"Yes!"
After another 4-5 minutes of key rattling, she finally says "Oh, there it is." (This is NOT comforting, thank you!) She confirms that I'll be leaving that afternoon, and that I'll be allowed on the plane.
I walk down town for breakfast, and then back to the other end of town (what? it's not a long walk) to check out the book store. While I'm poking through the stacks, the power goes out. To the entire town. And apparently to Wrangell and another town as well. I am assured that if the airports all shut down just for little things like power outages, half the scheduled flights through Alaska wouldn't happen. Somehow this is not terribly reassuring, as it's been my experience that half of the flights through Alaska don't happen. (What, me, cynical?)
I spend about 2 hours chatting with a random guy in the hotel lobby (yeah, I'm odd), and then hit the little cafe outside of the hotel for lunch. Sweet potato and rock fish curry over brown rice--good stuff, Maynard. Power came back on somewhere in there.
Then we head to the airport; T and J are on the same flight out as I am, and there are a couple people coming in on that flight that Dennis and Toni are supposed to pick up. I go to check in, and the computer refuses to print me a boarding slip or baggage claim strip. Takes 3 tries for the woman to get it done. I realize that this is probably a result of the power outage and not anything the airline did, but still!
Petersburg is a tiny airport; they don't have the baggage x-ray machines, so everything gets searched by hand by TSA. And swabbed for nitrates. Oddly, even though the clothes I was wearing when I tested positive in Ketchikan are in the bag, they pass it. I do end up having to send my carry-on through twice though, because they couldn't figure out what my camera was on the first trip. *sigh*
So we all board, and the flight attendants come by and tell me to turn off my reader. Since I'm still wondering exactly what that's about, I ask. And get one of the stupidest, blatantly bullshit answers EVER. FAA regulations (I am told) require that all devices, even those with no transmit functions, be turned off because (drum roll please) they want people to pay attention to the safety spiel and these devices would be distracting. Riiiight... because the bloke next to me reading his book, and the woman over across the way with the magazine, those people aren't distracted? Why don't these (dare I say non-existant?) FAA regulations require that books, magazines, games, and newspapers be stowed also? And how come I can't turn the reader back on as soon as the flight attendant is done talking instead of waiting until we get to 10,000 feet? Your answer, it makes no sense! A 6 year old could do better.
Bruce suggests that prior to my next vacation, I should download into the reader the FAA regulations regarding passenger conduct, as well as TSA regulations regarding passengers so that when I get obviously bullshit answers like that (or like the one we got on our Knoxville trip, where the flight attendant claimed it was a TSA regulation that passengers not seated in 1st class couldn't use the lavatory in the 1st class area) I can ask them to show me the pertinent section.
Anyway, rather than deal with turning the reader off every time we land as we island skip down the coast, I start in on the book I bought at the Petersburg book store. Little Brother, by Cory Doctorow. As with most of Doctorow's work, it's available for free download on his site. It was a terribly apropos book, given my recent frustrations with TSA. Basic plot is a teenage kid in California, and his struggles with a Homeland Security Department gone bat-shit (even more so than currently in real life) after a terrorist attack. I recommend it. (As you may have guessed from the links to buy or download it, yeah?)
The flight to SeaTac was actually fairly uneventful. Then I spent 3 hours sitting in SeaTac waiting for my next flight. Picked up dinner at Waji's, which was not bad, but nothing spectacular either. Was continually irritated by the "Talking Fountain" in the waiting area. Someone's idea of art, apparently, is to hook a speaker up to a drinking fountain, so that whenever anyone gets water, it makes quite loud, repetitive sounds like rocks banging together under water. Maybe I just don't get art, but I found this intrusive and annoying, not pretty or soothing.
SeaTac decided to play switchery-doo with the gates, and no announcements were made that I heard. I figured it out (just) before they finished boarding, and the flight to Spokaloo was uneventful.
One final note about airport security: I apparently had a pretty basic misunderstanding of how the "metal detectors" work. I wear this shiny piece which Bruce gave me. As you can see, it's not subtle. This is a big chunk of metal. Not a single security machine cared. I was vaguely aware that it was possible to sneak ceramic or polymer weapons through security, but it had never occurred to me that I could walk through with over a quarter pound of metal. Apparently, stainless steel doesn't interfere with electromagnetic fields enough to trip the security. So you can get through security with practically any sort of weapon, if you're prepared. Meanwhile, people who are absolutely no threat are delayed, harassed, and imposed upon. Does this make me feel safer? Hmm. Nope. "Security theater" indeed. Americans lose, the terrorists win.
