WIT STOP

There's a Simple Way to Avoid Becoming the Mrs. O'Leary's Cow of Aviation: Follow the Rules

Most Arizonans are from someplace else, so they visit home periodically. Also, most people who live in Arizona have friends who like to come for visits, especially during the winter months, so they sometimes have to get out of town to avoid them. In any case, Arizonans fly a lot.

I don't mind flying except for one thing: "Ladies and gentlemen, in preparation for our landing, return your seat backs to their full, upright, and locked position...

I hate that announcement. For one thing, no one ever explains why they must be upright for landing and takeoff. "The FAA demands it," is the only explanation they offer. Otherwise there's no obvious logic to it. It reminds me of my childhood when I'd say, "Mom, why do I have to do that?"

And Mom would say, "Because I said so. That's why you have to do it."

I do it, though. I'm not a frequent-flying anarchist; I don't promote rebellion. I meticulously obey all the instructions given to me by the uniformed flight attendants. I don't pay any attention to the non-uniformed personnel. If they're not going to dress for the occasion, then I'm not putting my seat back up.

I obey out of coward-ice. I'm terribly afraid that there will be some disaster, and I might be the cause of it. You know, they'll find that black box in the rubble and announce, "This entire tragedy was caused by the person in seat 11D (then they'll identify me by name), who had his seat back reclined three-eighths of an inch on landing."

That terrifies me. I don't want to be the Mrs. O'Leary's cow of aviation. Mrs. O'Leary's cow, you'll remember, was the one that supposedly kicked over the lighted lantern caus-ing the infamous Chicago fire. But see, that makes sense to me. If the flight attendants were to announce, "In preparation for landing, there will be no kicking of lanterns with a live flame in them about the air-craft," I could understand the logic. But a seat back reclined?

want to be the Mrs. O'Leary's cow of aviation. Mrs. O'Leary's cow, you'll remember, was the one that supposedly kicked over the lighted lantern caus-ing the infamous Chicago fire. But see, that makes sense to me. If the flight attendants were to announce, "In preparation for landing, there will be no kicking of lanterns with a live flame in them about the air-craft," I could understand the logic. But a seat back reclined?

Another thing that annoys me about the airline seats is the lack of considerate planning. When they invented the equipment, why didn't they make the fully upright and locked po-sition more comfortable? Then no one would have a beef about complying. "Return my seat back to its upright position? Sure. It feels pretty good that way anyway. No problem."

What irritates me most about complying with the instruction is that I usually notice one passenger a row or two ahead of me who leaves his or her seat back reclined... just a touch. Not much, but just enough to be a tad more comfortable than the rest of us.

I should tap this person on the shoulder and say, "Would you mind moving your seat back?" but I'm afraid this person will say, "Why?" I'd have no response. "I'll tell you why. Because I said so, that's why" sounds weak in this situation.

So I say nothing.

Then the flight attendants come down the aisle checking seat backs, and they miss this offender. They always seem to be looking the other way when they pass this seat. They'll pick up an empty plastic glass, which poses no threat. They'll gather up a napkin or empty honey-roasted peanuts package, which distracts them from the more egregious infraction. For whatever reason, they continue to overlook the violation.

Instead, I desperately want to stand up and yell, "Look at 8D, will you, please? The seat back is still reclined." But you know what they do to stoolies on air-planes. It's not a pretty tale.

Instead, I employ an almost involuntary head movement. As the flight attendant passes my seat, which is in compliance, I point my head toward the offending seat. It's a furtive, inconspicuous signal that the attendants either ignore or note and then tell one another to keep an eye on me dur-ing deplaning. "There's a weird guy in seat 11D."

Sometimes I'll try soft-ly humming to myself to notify a flight attendant. I'll sing quietly, "Won't you come home, Bill Bailey, won't you come home? 8D still has the seat back reclined."

But nothing works.

We'll come in for our landing, and 8D will continue to endanger all of us with his or her seat back still reclined a precarious half an inch. I'm annoyed at that passenger, the incompetent flight attendants who overlooked the offense, and at the airline for landing despite the flagrant breach of FAA regulations. But I get even. I unhook my seat belt, stand, and get my luggage out of the overhead bin just a fraction of a second before the pilot turns off the seat belt sign.

Yessir, FAA, two can play this game.