Fly Me a River [Mark Steyn]

Fly Me a River
If you want to see America’s worst-dressed gay men, take a plane.

The King Hussein Center happens to be stocked with lissome young ladies,” wrote Jay Nordlinger the other day. He was reporting for National Review Online from the Davos Middle Eastern confab in Jordan, and, although he had many insightful observations to make about the big geopolitical socioeconomic questions of our time, it was the “lissome young ladies” who caught my eye, as evidently they had caught his. Jay’s no slouch at the in-depth investigative-journalism stuff, so, warming to his theme, he went on to report that many of the “hostesses” were wearing the uniform of Royal Jordanian Airlines.

Ah, yes, I sighed contentedly, as the memories came flooding back. In recent years, my flights to the Middle East have begun with a little US Airways twin-prop down to Boston or New York — no “cabin service” at all; they don’t have any on their bigger planes either, but at least on the twin-props there’s no hatchet-faced “flight attendant” in shiny stretch pants and flat shoes shuffling along the aisle doling out mini-bags of mini-pretzels to remind you of all the “cabin service” you’re not getting. In Boston or New York, I switch to Virgin — much better: proper “trolley dollies” in bright smart red skirts and heels and the best kind of peppy Estuary English accents that make you feel like you’re Austin Powers and they’re at least prepared to pretend you’re shagadelic. And then in London, for the final leg (as it were), it’s Royal Jordanian to Amman — bliss: “air hostesses” in dapper stylish uniforms that, like Singapore and the other great Asian airlines, are an artful combination of native elements from local culture and retro cool from our own. East is East and West is West and ne’er the twain shall meet, but on the best national carriers from east of Suez they come pretty close.

The Royal Jordanian gals had our man Nordlinger waxing nostalgic. “These uniforms are a real throwback, to the America of the 1950s or so,” he wrote. “You remember that movie in which Leonardo DiCaprio played that conman, who posed as a pilot for Eastern or something? You remember that bevy of fresh, eager, fetching stewardesses (and in those days, you could use the word ‘stewardess’ — ‘flight attendant’ was a long way off)?”

Catch Me If You Can, the DiCaprio caper in question, does a grand job of evoking that era — the jet-age glamour of the air terminals with the flying-saucer shapes; Sinatra singing “Come Fly with Me” with that marvelous Billy May intro that sounds like an orchestral Boeing taxi-ing down the runway and taking off into the blue; and, of course, the gals.

Which begs the question: Where did it all go? In America, that is. U.S. air travel is the exception that proves the rule about American service: In a Welsh restaurant or Austrian department store, I long for American waitresses and sales clerks. But on USAir or Northwest or Continental, I pine fondly for Royal Jordanian or British or Thai Airways. I yield to no one in the amount of derision I’m willing to heap on “Old Europe,” but, if it’s a choice between Delta and Air France, or United and Lufthansa, I’m with Jacques and Gerhard in wanting to put as much distance as possible between me and the arrogant bullying unilateralist Yank, if only when airborne and pushing a cart of Clamato cans.

Two years ago, an American Express survey revealed that 55 percent of customers had found a “noticeable decline” in cabin service since 9/11, which is pretty amazing because it was a good nine-tenths down the abyss before 9/11. The Wall Street Journal reported the dissatisfactions of “flight attendants” — “A lot of us,” said Glenda Talley of US Airways, “are in a terrible mood before we even set foot on the plane.” “There’s more stress to the job,” complained Kristi Tucker of Delta. “As human beings we can only take so much,” said someone from United. Yeah, fly me a river, baby.

Or how about this? According to flight attendant René Foss, “It didn’t take long after Sept. 11 for people to start acting like complete idiots again.” The first sign you’re acting like a complete idiot is when you book a ticket with these guys. The Journal proposed eight improvements airlines could introduce — more legroom, junk the cart, predictable stuff. But no one thought to address the most obvious defect — that U.S. airlines look just awful, beginning with the shiny shapeless prison-warden garb of their staff, the product of some malign combination of unionization and feminism. I’m not being sexist here — if you want to see America’s worst-dressed gay men, take a plane; when the networks have exhausted every other lame makeover reality-show concept, they should do Queer Eye for the Fly Guy. But the point is, for many folks, an airline ticket is one of the biggest single payments we make other than for a car or house, and in return we get a grubby bus ride with seat restraints.

True, many of those spiffy foreign airlines are either state-owned or de facto monopolies. But America’s federally-bailed-out basket-case carriers aren’t exactly shining exemplars of ruthless capitalism. And their government-subsidized contempt for the public starts with the look — the look of the planes and the look of the staff, the look that says, “Who needs a look?” When the Arabs understand customer service better than you do, you know you’ve got a problem.

We've got a problem, all right, but it's not merely customer service on air lines.

Years ago, a book came out called The Ugly American. Americans were astonished to learn that to people of other countries, Americans were often considered ugly.

Many did not understand. Many did not believe it. Me, for example.

Then I saw it first hand, travelling in other countries.

Once in the Ritz Bar in Paris, for example, I watched as an American woman complained loudly that they had stopped using Limoge china in the bar; she wanted another one for her collection. The waiter's explanation that they had to discontinue Limoge because too many people stole them had no effect on her. She kept complaining and insisted that it was good publicity for them to allow people to steal their china etc. etc. She was loud and demanding, and I wanted to disguise my Americanhood or else hide under the table.

A relative, who was a flight attendant, told me that she preferred flights to South America because she didn't like to deal with all the "pushy, demanding, ugly Americans." This changed my life a little; I thought about all the times I've been pushy, demanding, and ugly, and, I hope, I changed my ways.

Travelling in Mexico, I was impressed with the courtesy of the average Mexican and how implicit threat of litigation and the demand of RIGHTS did not dominate everything. It was like being in the United States years ago before all this ugliness began to dominate everything you do and everywhere you go and almost everyone you meet.

When a woman ran into me and knocked me down on the Colorado ski slopes, she was amazed that I didn't take her name, addresss, and I guess fingerprints, so that I could sue her. I merely said, "I'm fine," and resumed skiing. You don't run into that kind of litigation consciousness in Europe, and I'd much rather ski there for that very reason.

Several years ago, in rush hour traffic, I dented the fender of the woman in front of me. It cost $200 to fix the fender. However, the woman, grabbing her son's head and shaking it from side to side, said, to her son's obvious astonishment, "My son's got a neck injury." Later, she turned out to have the "neck injury." (The son played highschool football.) She demanded $10,000. My insurance company gave her $5,000 and increased my insurance premiums drastically.

A few months ago, on the other hand, in a shopping center parking lot, I backed into a woman's car and put a few scratches on it. Naturally I apologized and offered to call my insurance company and the police etc. etc. etc. She said, "Don't worry about it. The car's already scratched; another one won't make any difference." She wouldn't even take my name. She spread much love and goodness with that one kind act. I don't even know who she is, but I shall not forget.

American culture has become very ugly in some very important ways.

Litigation has made everyone defensive. Everyone lives in fear of being sued for one thing or another. Why Americans want to live in such fear is beyond me. I certainly don't want to. But lawyers armed with lawsuits dominate American culture.

Equal rights for women, and for everyone for that matter, is certainly worthy and to be desired, but the demands have become ugly and threatening--and so have many American women.

Freedom of speech is also a right worthy of respect and protection, but this has deteriorated into ubiquitous obscenity and, perversely, the abolition of freedom of speech under certain circumstances, e.g. "hate speech."

Human rights are certainly to be protected, but in America EVERYONE KNOW HIS OR HER RIGHTS AND THEY'RE GONNA DEMAND THEM. GOT IT?!!!

Americans have brought some very ugly things into their culture. Surly, rude, insolent--and overstressed--stewardes...uh...flight attendants are merely a small part of the tip of the iceberg.

Most Americans must like it this way or else they would change it.

But I don't like it at all, and I do my best to avoid situations and people that bring out this ugly aspect of American culture--or lack of it.

I love the United States, but this is one thing that I would definitely like to change about it.

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