I thought I was an enabler until I met my wife 40 years ago. She is the nicest person in the world (after her mother of course). She redefined “giving it all away” in the classiest way possible. The recipient of her “not ripping the trophy out of your grasp” can’t have the slightest idea that they are being given a helping hand. “Miss Congeniality” was named after her (she won that in high school). She tries not to win and doesn’t have a competitive bone in her body but that doesn’t mean you can walk all over her. If she senses that you are condescending, playing her for a sap or taking advantage of her elders or children she’ll stand toe to toe with you and read you the riot act including but not limited to “you ought to be ashamed of yourself”. I digress but you get the idea. Imagine Arnold Swartzenegger (the terminator) dressed in pink on the side of justice for all.
I on the other hand just like to help others find their way. If I have to beat someone twenty years younger at tennis to help them find their way to better tennis then so be it. If you are under fourteen (definitely under 8) I’ll look confused and bewildered when you beat me at “chutes and ladder”, tag or “catch me if you can”.
If you have children “enabling” is fun. You’re there to teach and nurture and enable them to learn how to grow up responsibly in society. How about captains and first officers? About the same but more mature and require more “suave faire”. I like to teach and nurture and instill some confidence and wisdom in my first officers because I’m teaching my replacements. Anybody can say “clear right, I’ll take the chicken and I’ll take the first break if you don’t mind.” I want my first officers to recognize an incapacitated captain, be able to give CPR and taxi to the gate from the right side with differential braking. This is assuming that they increase the age to 65 or higher. Just joking I’m really retiring at 60 no matter what Congress doesn’t do.
Enabling has gotten a bad rap from too many self help programs. Just try to help someone with a drinking or gambling problem and the facilitator in the 12 step program is all over you for enabling the person in trouble. Tough love, intervention or just leave them alone are your choices. Sounds like some captains you fly with doesn’t it? Why make it easier for you than I had it when I was in the right seat?
Enabling could be a disease. If it isn’t it’s a habit that is hard to quit. Trying to please everybody and fixing all problems does give you a great rush of adrenaline and you want to continue that great feeling. Flying is constantly fixing problems like overcoming gravity and flying in the clouds.
As I finish my 31 years of commercial flying I think I’ll miss the people you enable to see their loved ones, business meetings to happen and well deserved vacations to occur. In aviation all our dreams come true. The pilots get to fly instead of work. Everyone else gets to follow their dreams in the air instead of on the highway.
I’ll miss the employees that have stuck together and merged into a great company and an airline that you can be proud of. I’ve been based in Newark, Houston, Honolulu and Guam and have enjoyed all the travel benefits that come with this job. I’ve traveled around the world (literally) and may stay home for awhile after retirement but I won’t stop thinking about my exciting career and all the individuals I’ve met along the way.
You may read about yourself one day. I’ve started a blog named thirtyfivethousandfeet.blogspot.com and ruminate on the vagaries of the pilot’s life. I may not be actively flying for Continental but I’ll never forget the ride I’ve had and the good people I’ve met. Thank you for enabling me to reach my retirement.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Quito in 31 Hours
I come from a family of over-schedulers. Not just makers of lists or schedulers but massive,horrendous over the top schedulers. They make other schedulers look idle. You get the idea. I’ve tried many things over the years to keep me from becoming one of “them.” It’s not bad to over schedule but it’s not me, or so I thought. You can’t do everything that you want to do or go to everything to which you are invited every day of your life.
I’ve since found out that there are two places on earth in which this is possible: retirement communities and Quito layovers. There must be an exclusion clause or a black hole or something, but it’s true. Since I can’t keep up with my folks or even get in touch with them in their retirement community, I’ll try the Quito layover and see what happens.
Quito is located South-Southwest of the east coast of the United States, in the central time zone. Surrounded by three volcanoes high in the Andes, Quito has a strong Spanish-Catholic influence but is inhabited by more Andean Indians than Euoropean-descended interlopers. I guess after the Spanish marched up 9300 feet to conquer the Indians they ran out of breath.
Continental flies non stop from Newark to Bogota, Columbia and used to do a short through flight to Quito, Ecuador. There are now direct flights from Houston. Ecuador has recently gone to using U.S. currency which makes it easier for us although a little more expensive than in the old black market dollar days.
The crews arrive at the hotel at about 11 PM on the first day and leave the third day at 6 AM. The intervening 31 hours are yours to do what you want. Most crews get some sleep after they arrive although the younger among us head to the dance clubs the first night upon their arrival.
I’ve arranged (by e-mail of course) for my Spanish teacher, Jorge, to meet me at breakfast at 9:30 in the morning and so I study a little to see where we left off last lesson. The “imperative” sounds interesting. I see signs all over the airport telling me to put my bags here. “Pongo su equipaje aqui!” I’ll have to ask him about that verb.
Ok, so here we go. This is how the day is shaping up. Breakfast at the “Magic Bean”only a few blocks away is a must as their huevos rancheros and fresh squeezed fruit juices are the best in town (only $2.75 for breakfast-not bad).
If you need to work out it’s back to the gym at the Marriott, but today I asked Jorge to meet me to get some tips on conversation in the restaurant and the shopping areas on the way back to the hotel. I brought my black bag to drop off at the leather workshop for repair and some new black lacquer. I can pick it up later today. We’ll stop at a leather clothing store to try on a jacket and some leather pants for the motorcycle trip coming up. If you needed any sewing done this’d be the place to bring it.
I pay Jorge for his time and help and rush back to the hotel to change and pick up my tennis racquets in the storage room. I have a tennis lesson on those famous red clay courts you only seem to see in South America these days. There’re easier on the knees than the hard courts of America. I meet the Pro at noon on the court and we play singles for an hour. I stop every game or two for bottled water that I brought and towel off as I catch my breath. There’s not a lot of oxygen at 9300 feet.
The last trip to Quito I had brought my golf clubs and played a small course nearby. Twenty- five dollars for a round with a caddy and a beautiful course and day ensued. Several 300 yard drives under the belt I felt pretty Tiger-ish in this rarified air as the ball went and went and rolled to a stop.
Well, back to reality (Continental style) I have to rush back to the hotel for my one hour massage at the Marriott. I sleep through the second half which is fine for me. All relaxed now I am off to the flower store because they get their fresh flower shipment in the afternoon. I usually get only six packets of roses (20-24 to a packet) so I can carry them back in a laundry bag. At $1.75 a packet it’s a steal of course. I usually give away a dozen or so to the agent, cleaners and office staff on the way home so I show up with only a couple dozen roses for my wife. The sweet smell and unique hybrid of colors mark the Quito roses and with a change of water and a cut every day they’ll last two weeks.
I’ve got to hustle today to pick up my newly polished black bag and the leather jacket whose sleeves I had shortened before the shop closes at 6 PM. I put them up in the room and drink some water to keep hydrated. The tennis took some water out of my system. The crew is going to meet for dinner in a few minutes so no time for a nap.
We decide to go to the “Turtle’s Head” British pub (owned and run by a Scot from Glasgow) for happy hour and a quick game of foosball or darts. The crews seem to go out together here; after a day of spa activities it’s time to regroup as a flight team and head to the restaurant. We choose an Argentine Steak house and get a big table for the group. The owner is an Argentine from New York who’s semi-retired down here in Quito. He’s happy to see us and entertains us with stories of the old days in New York when he managed young boxers from the Bronx. He’s got pictures on the walls of some of the young men in the ring.
Every time he opens a wine bottle he repeats the same story. “Let this wine breathe for 5 minutes. It was bottled at sea level and it has to let some air out to revive itself and stabilize at 9300 feet.” Hey I’m in Quito-I believe him every time. The bill comes after a satisfying meal and I pay for everyone. It’s great to be a big spender when the whole bill comes in under $50. It’s only 8:00 PM but we head back to the hotel for some well deserved rest before our 0600 pick up.
Not a lot of smokers bid Quito because of the altitude. The heart rate is faster and the breathing quicker sometimes to the point of hyperventilation. Just relax and breathe slowly to recover. Give it some time and drink plenty of water. Sleeping is another story though; if I sleep on my stomach I hear and feel my heart pound pretty fast. That’s disconcerting so I roll over and it goes away. Three to four hours into sleep I wake up with a start; my breathing is quick and deep and my heart is pounding. What happened? I sit up and drink some water. Things get better and I go back to sleep. One theory on why this happens to all of us in Quito is that as you get into level four deep sleep your heart rate goes down and your breathing gets shallow: fine at sea level but oxygen depriving at 9300 feet. Your body wakes you up to get more oxygen. “Well done body!” As long as I know it’s nature doing its job I can go back to sleep. Oxygen bottles are available at the front desk and some visitors pre oxygenate prior to sleeping for that reason.
After an uneventful exit from the valley around Quito and up over the Andes we settle in for the flight home, keeping the flower stems moist and the memories of another Quito layover fresh in our minds. As the crews get home the same thing is happening. Spouses and loved ones are saying “thanks for the roses,” and “let’s go shopping at Target,” and the response is the same. “That’s ok I think I’ll stay home and do nothing. I’ve had a rough trip.” Maybe I’ll try to track down my folks and say hi. I wonder if they’re at home?
I’ve since found out that there are two places on earth in which this is possible: retirement communities and Quito layovers. There must be an exclusion clause or a black hole or something, but it’s true. Since I can’t keep up with my folks or even get in touch with them in their retirement community, I’ll try the Quito layover and see what happens.
Quito is located South-Southwest of the east coast of the United States, in the central time zone. Surrounded by three volcanoes high in the Andes, Quito has a strong Spanish-Catholic influence but is inhabited by more Andean Indians than Euoropean-descended interlopers. I guess after the Spanish marched up 9300 feet to conquer the Indians they ran out of breath.
Continental flies non stop from Newark to Bogota, Columbia and used to do a short through flight to Quito, Ecuador. There are now direct flights from Houston. Ecuador has recently gone to using U.S. currency which makes it easier for us although a little more expensive than in the old black market dollar days.
The crews arrive at the hotel at about 11 PM on the first day and leave the third day at 6 AM. The intervening 31 hours are yours to do what you want. Most crews get some sleep after they arrive although the younger among us head to the dance clubs the first night upon their arrival.
I’ve arranged (by e-mail of course) for my Spanish teacher, Jorge, to meet me at breakfast at 9:30 in the morning and so I study a little to see where we left off last lesson. The “imperative” sounds interesting. I see signs all over the airport telling me to put my bags here. “Pongo su equipaje aqui!” I’ll have to ask him about that verb.
Ok, so here we go. This is how the day is shaping up. Breakfast at the “Magic Bean”only a few blocks away is a must as their huevos rancheros and fresh squeezed fruit juices are the best in town (only $2.75 for breakfast-not bad).
If you need to work out it’s back to the gym at the Marriott, but today I asked Jorge to meet me to get some tips on conversation in the restaurant and the shopping areas on the way back to the hotel. I brought my black bag to drop off at the leather workshop for repair and some new black lacquer. I can pick it up later today. We’ll stop at a leather clothing store to try on a jacket and some leather pants for the motorcycle trip coming up. If you needed any sewing done this’d be the place to bring it.
I pay Jorge for his time and help and rush back to the hotel to change and pick up my tennis racquets in the storage room. I have a tennis lesson on those famous red clay courts you only seem to see in South America these days. There’re easier on the knees than the hard courts of America. I meet the Pro at noon on the court and we play singles for an hour. I stop every game or two for bottled water that I brought and towel off as I catch my breath. There’s not a lot of oxygen at 9300 feet.
The last trip to Quito I had brought my golf clubs and played a small course nearby. Twenty- five dollars for a round with a caddy and a beautiful course and day ensued. Several 300 yard drives under the belt I felt pretty Tiger-ish in this rarified air as the ball went and went and rolled to a stop.
Well, back to reality (Continental style) I have to rush back to the hotel for my one hour massage at the Marriott. I sleep through the second half which is fine for me. All relaxed now I am off to the flower store because they get their fresh flower shipment in the afternoon. I usually get only six packets of roses (20-24 to a packet) so I can carry them back in a laundry bag. At $1.75 a packet it’s a steal of course. I usually give away a dozen or so to the agent, cleaners and office staff on the way home so I show up with only a couple dozen roses for my wife. The sweet smell and unique hybrid of colors mark the Quito roses and with a change of water and a cut every day they’ll last two weeks.
I’ve got to hustle today to pick up my newly polished black bag and the leather jacket whose sleeves I had shortened before the shop closes at 6 PM. I put them up in the room and drink some water to keep hydrated. The tennis took some water out of my system. The crew is going to meet for dinner in a few minutes so no time for a nap.
We decide to go to the “Turtle’s Head” British pub (owned and run by a Scot from Glasgow) for happy hour and a quick game of foosball or darts. The crews seem to go out together here; after a day of spa activities it’s time to regroup as a flight team and head to the restaurant. We choose an Argentine Steak house and get a big table for the group. The owner is an Argentine from New York who’s semi-retired down here in Quito. He’s happy to see us and entertains us with stories of the old days in New York when he managed young boxers from the Bronx. He’s got pictures on the walls of some of the young men in the ring.
Every time he opens a wine bottle he repeats the same story. “Let this wine breathe for 5 minutes. It was bottled at sea level and it has to let some air out to revive itself and stabilize at 9300 feet.” Hey I’m in Quito-I believe him every time. The bill comes after a satisfying meal and I pay for everyone. It’s great to be a big spender when the whole bill comes in under $50. It’s only 8:00 PM but we head back to the hotel for some well deserved rest before our 0600 pick up.
Not a lot of smokers bid Quito because of the altitude. The heart rate is faster and the breathing quicker sometimes to the point of hyperventilation. Just relax and breathe slowly to recover. Give it some time and drink plenty of water. Sleeping is another story though; if I sleep on my stomach I hear and feel my heart pound pretty fast. That’s disconcerting so I roll over and it goes away. Three to four hours into sleep I wake up with a start; my breathing is quick and deep and my heart is pounding. What happened? I sit up and drink some water. Things get better and I go back to sleep. One theory on why this happens to all of us in Quito is that as you get into level four deep sleep your heart rate goes down and your breathing gets shallow: fine at sea level but oxygen depriving at 9300 feet. Your body wakes you up to get more oxygen. “Well done body!” As long as I know it’s nature doing its job I can go back to sleep. Oxygen bottles are available at the front desk and some visitors pre oxygenate prior to sleeping for that reason.
After an uneventful exit from the valley around Quito and up over the Andes we settle in for the flight home, keeping the flower stems moist and the memories of another Quito layover fresh in our minds. As the crews get home the same thing is happening. Spouses and loved ones are saying “thanks for the roses,” and “let’s go shopping at Target,” and the response is the same. “That’s ok I think I’ll stay home and do nothing. I’ve had a rough trip.” Maybe I’ll try to track down my folks and say hi. I wonder if they’re at home?
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