HeHeHe! I just got back from a whirlwind roundtrip from Portland,
Maine, to Jupiter, Florida, escorting my 81-year-old aunt to her
condo in Jupiter. I was fortunate enough to make the trip down and
back on her family's company Citation, a small twin-engine jet. No
agents. No TSA. No boarding pass. No tickets. Arrive at the private
terminal, leave car keys at desk, get on airplane. Fly. Get back.
Pick up car keys. Drive home. The people at private terminals are
extraordinarily polite. They will accommodate your every need, from
coffee to a car and driver. The manager at the terminal in Stuart,
Florida, even walked my aunt's dog for her.
Note in the interest of full disclosure: This is not my world. I am
not rich. When I retire and draw social security, I will get a pay
raise. But occasionally I get to rub up against real wealth, and
damn! It ain't all bad. <g>
There are many thrills in life. Sex counts very high. Being present
at the birth of one's children is right up here. Losing one's
children as tax deductions because they have turned into adults and
moved out is another. Breaking out of the clouds over Northern
California on the trip home from Vietnam was a biggie.
But nothing much lately has come close to sitting in the copilot's
seat (right seat) of a Citation blasting off into the wild blue
yonder. Or flying over the Northeast corridor of the U.S. after dark
at about 23,000 feet. There's a lot of people down there messing up
the planet, but based on the light show, they're fabulously beautiful
while doing it.
--Bob Whitmire
www.bwp33.com
On Jan 21, 2009, at 9:51 AM, Ken Norton wrote:
> When a person is to dumb for the check-points, they are hired by the
> airlines to work as a ticketing agent.
--
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