Desperation Theory
March 14, 2010
When you are offered special treatment, make sure they define special…
The dreadful thing about flying is not your precarious position in the air, or the possibility of mechanical failure, it is the experience of being hearded like cattle. To borrow from David Foster Wallace, it is being made to feel bovine. 
Get in line, take off your shoes, that bag has to be checked and that will be $25 dollars, sit down, eat your slop, and don’t ask questions or we might arrest you. We are so desperate to get where we are going, and safely, that we tolerate the smells, the inefficiency, those sneaky extra fees, the pat downs, even the bare feet on dirty linoleum floors.
Flying to Los Angeles, I was surprised when the stewardess (flight attendant?) whispered discretely to me that there was a bulkhead seat available up front. Ooh, the leg room! I took her up on the offer, only to spend the next 6 hours next to the bathroom. I tried desperately to ignore the steady parade of rear ends in my face, an experience which brings new meaning to the phrase “cheek to cheek.” I employed yogic breathing exercises to avoid inhaling the E. Coli spores wafting about. I hummed, I fidgeted, I passed on the microwave quote unquote cheeseburger.
When we landed, the young man next to me kissed his hand and raised it to the sky, attempting a private moment of gratitude. I also thanked Quien Sabe, happy to be on the ground, not taking for granted that no major disasters had occurred. I’ve been on flights where people clapped for the captain. But I’m like a dog that needs to be walked; I can’t sit still that long, so I was mostly grateful to stand up. I wasn’t alone, either, as everyone sprang to attention when that seat belt light went off.
One trick I used to distract myself from the bowel movements of my fellow passengers was to create band names. I’m compiling a master list so I stop forgetting them. It’s short so far, but I encourage suggestions. And I can’t take credit anyway, as most of them came up in conversations with friends. A communal copyright, if you will.
Desperation Theory 
Sospechosos
That Shit’s So Brooklyn
Whutsisface
Bravo! Samson
Careful with Money
Scatter the Ashes
The Filth
Ladeeda
Tiger Wash?
