Get Out Alive

In August, I participated in an aviation-safety training course at the City Civil Aerospace Medical Institute Federal Aviation Administration facility in Oklahoma. I learned that, when it comes to aircraft crashes, what you do in the moments before and immediately following impact, and when and how you do it, largely determine your chances of evacuating the aircraft alive.

National Transportation Safety Board accident statistics show that in 568 aircraft accidents (1983–2000), 95.7% of occupants survived the initial accident. In 26 serious accidents involving fire, injury, and/or substantial aircraft damage, 55.6% of occupants survived the initial accident. Proper brace positions and a fast evacuation (less than 2 minutes) are crucial to occupant survival.

There are two primary reasons for the brace position. One is to reduce flailing of arms and legs and the other is to reduce secondary impact (body against object). Aircraft crash-test dummy videos show a significant difference in the impact injuries that the “dummies” sustained based on seat and body position. To increase the likelihood of passenger survival during secondary impact—that is why Flight Attendants make the PA and conduct a walkthrough to confirm that seatback and tray-tables are upright and locked, and carryon items are not stowed in the seatback pocket. Flight Attendant brace positions increase chances of surviving a secondary impact. Flight Attendants should assume the position for every takeoff and every landing.

Did you know that the Over-Wing Window Exits (OWWE) are the closest exits for the majority of seats on the 737 aircraft? In real evacuations, 51% of passengers used the OWWE. This is significant information because the OWWEs are the smallest exits in the cabin and passengers, not Flight Attendants, open them. For passengers who sit in an emergency exit seat, there are three important things to keep in mind:
1. People remember more of what they read/see, than what they hear.
2. People seated at the OWWEs reported that they were more likely to read the Safety Information Card if they noticed other passengers reading it.
3. Passengers who read, see, and process aircraft evacuation/exit information are more likely to take action in an emergency.

People in peril experience similar stages of panic, and the first stage for most people is a period of total and intense disbelief. John Leach, a Survival Psychologist at University of Lancaster, UK studied human behavior in emergencies and found that 75% of people will be stunned and bewildered in an emergency to the point of non-reaction. They become docile and look to other people for decision-making and direction. This is where evacuation commands come into play. Flight Crew evacuation commands should be loud, forceful, and urgent.

Always remember, if you are evacuating an aircraft in an emergency and you feel that your life is in danger, save yourself and get out—alive.

No Sleeping Inn

I'm in a hotel on an overnight in Philadelphia. On my way to breakfast as I walk past a room down the hall toward the elevators, I hear the following:

Loud banging on a door inside of the room. A female voice yells, "WAIT A GODDAMN MINUTE!"

A male voice yells back, "IT'S NOT FAIR! I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR 10 MINUTES! HURRY UP!"

Female: "I AM CHANGING MY BRA, GODDAMN IT!"

Male: "OPEN THIS DOOR OR I'M GONNA PISS ALL OVER THE GODDAMN FLOOR!"

More loud banging and a child's shrill scream adds to the cacophony in room 1417.

This exchange is so loud that a housekeeper standing beside her cleaning cart at the other end of the hall looks up at me, shakes her head, and says, "They's all God's children, but some done lost the good sense He gave 'em."

Amen.

Sweet Escape

Allow me to introduce my new bike, a 2009 BMW 1200RT.


It is as lovely to ride, as it looks just standing still.

And this is me on my new bike in my so-bright-they-will-see-me-coming-a-mile-away—I hope—yellow jacket.

Buzzzzzzz.



My new bike and I went for our first ride together on September 25, 2009 in the hill country of Texas. It really was a day of firsts on a bike for me: my first cattle guard, first deer to jump across the road in front of me, first 10-20 mph steep grade switchbacks—which is directly related to another first—taking a corner too fast and nearly crossing the yellow line into oncoming traffic, first time riding at night, first time to drop this bike, and first raccoon to run between my wheels and narrowly escape death.







The raccoon incident played out in front of me like a slow-mo animated cartoon in which the raccoon character has dialog. The raccoon entered the road from the right side and, as though he was out for a leisurely stroll, waddled toward the center of the road. Dum-dee-dum-dee-dum. Sandy was cruising along on her Harley when the raccoon sees her. He picks up the pace and hustles across the road. This is when I imagined the dialog and the raccoon’s comical animation. Watching Sandy as she road by, the raccoon turned and doubled back to the center where he stopped and arched his back, still looking down the road at Sandy. I imagined him raising his clenched little paw and shaking it in her direction as he grumbled, “Hey lady, watch where you’re going!” He was so incensed at Sandy that he didn’t notice that I was rapidly approaching as he lumbered across the road in front of me. At the last second, he turned his head in my direction. I could swear I saw his beady little eyes get as big as saucers when he saw my front tire baring down on him. Now, before anyone gets all PETA on me, no animals were harmed in making of this fabulous animated adventure.


Morning dew hovers over our bikes and cabin just outside of Leakey, Texas.


We covered 225 miles that first day, including Texas “twisted sister” 337. The next day we logged 150 miles of beautiful hills and valleys on the other two “twisted sisters” 335 and 336. On the third day of our trip we headed back to Austin via Luckenbach for a total of 625 miles.

Instant Message

Walking home from yoga yesterday, I noticed one of those Hello My Name Is-type nametag stickers stuck onto the sidewalk. Only this nametag didn’t have Hello My Name Is printed on it, this nametag had WEIGHT WATCHERS printed in LARGE, BOLD, BLOCK LETTERS across the bottom. And the name handwritten in blue ink just above WEIGHT WATCHERS?

Colleen.

I believe that the universe will repeatedly present lessons and send us messages in various forms until we finally get it. Okay, universe, I finally got the message. Now fuck off.

Good Samaritan

A strange thing happened to me a few weeks ago while on my usual 6 mile run in Chicago. About a mile or so into my run, it started to rain. Now, for a girl who spent her formative running years in Seattle, a little rain is nothing. Unfortunately, this was not just “a little” rain. It was a whole lot of rain, buckets actually, with thunder and lightning thrown in for dramatic effect. I was soaked to the bone. Nevertheless, being the true runner that I am, I did not want to turn tail and go home. So I continued.

I finished my run and was about five blocks from home when “it” happened. Suddenly, I felt dizzy and light headed—like my body was shutting down and I was about to lose consciousness. I lay down on the sidewalk so as not to chip my teeth should I pass out face-first into the concrete. I looked through the glass doors in front of me and into a hotel lobby, hoping to catch the eye of a valet attendant or concierge. Instead, I noticed a well-dressed woman standing inside of the nice, dry hotel lobby, staring at me as I writhed around on the sidewalk in the pouring rain. Just standing and staring. When her ride pulled up in front of the hotel, she practically had to step over me as she made her way to the car, barely acknowledging me, even as I mouthed the words, “HELP ME!” in desperation.

I tried to rationalize the woman’s complete non-reaction. Maybe she thought I was a prostitute drug addict on a bad trip and therefore didn‘t warrant her acknowledgment or concern. Then again, how many prostitute drug addicts would dress for “work” in full Sugoi running regalia, Asics athletic shoes, Maui Jim sunglasses, and an iPod armband? There is a shared sense of camaraderie, fellowship, or esprit de corps if you will, among runners. Maybe she wasn’t a runner and therefore didn‘t feel a sense of fellowship or that she was obligated in any way to help me. Maybe she just did not have the time. She was waiting for a ride to take her somewhere, maybe somewhere important, like dinner, or the theatre.

I do not know what her rationale was for not helping me, a fellow human being clearly in need of help, but for a brief moment, I recognized myself in her. I recognized in her the same disregard and detachment that I have as I walk by the seemingly growing number of homeless people that sit or lie on the sidewalks of Chicago. I recognized in her the same rationale and lame attempts to justify my own disregard and detachment. And, I recognized in her the same potential that is in me, that is in all of us, to be a Good Samaritan.

(Don't) Walk This Way

Do you know what I find annoying? When people walk with their arms raised to the side at a 45 degree angle, and then move them rhythmically back and forth like they are cutting through...air. It is especially annoying when trying to walk around said person on a crowded sidewalk. You have to time the pass just right, evading their rotor blade-like arms while dodging other oncoming pedestrians.

Why do people walk like this? Balance? Momentum? Are they territorial? Defending their personal space? I don’t really want to know why some people walk with their arms splayed like rotor blades, I just want them to stop. I don’t mean that I want them to stop walking mid-stride—because that is annoying too.

Have you ever been walking behind someone and all of a sudden, apparently for no reason, they stop abruptly right in the middle of pedestrian traffic. It is annoying. Move to the side, out of the way, and then stop and stand there—stand there as long as you want to, just get out of the way. I don’t mean meander to one side or another—because that is annoying too.

Have you ever tried to walk past someone who is meandering? When you try to pass them on the left, they meander to the left, so you change course and try to pass them on the right, only to have them meander to the right. It is annoying, isn’t it?

I just have one thing to say to people who walk this way, “Don’t.”

But that’s just me.

Free (Sales) Association

The other day, I walked up to my favorite cosmetics counter at a major department store in Chicago to make—what I thought would be—a simple purchase. When I asked the sales associate for their waterproof mascara she replied, “We stopped making the waterproof mascara. Now we have ‘Superwear Longer Lasting’ mascara.”

“Waterproof” is longer lasting. In fact, waterproof is the it-won’t-come-off-until-I-take-it-off definition of longer lasting.

“Would you like that in black?” she continued.

Still trying to process the, “We stopped making waterproof mascara” statement, I stuttered my reply, “Uh, uh, no thank you. I really just want waterproof mascara.” This prompted a ten-minute dissertation from the sales associate that began with, “You shouldn’t use waterproof mascara for everyday use. You should only use waterproof mascara if you are going to a wedding or swimming.” To me this sounded like an argument my mother would make for not wearing tampons everyday during your period. “You shouldn’t wear tampons for everyday use. You should only wear tampons if you plan on going swimming or wearing tight pants.”

The sales associate droned on, “Studies prove that using waterproof mascara everyday weakens your lashes.” I did not care to hear about the studies done on waterproof mascara, but I did not want to be rude and walk away from the counter while she was still talking. As I stood there trying to think of something to say that would shut her up, an older woman dressed in a magenta-colored wool coat and matching hat walked by. A young, make-up plastered, perfume spritzer girl quickly approached the older woman.

“Would you like to try some of our new Fresh Spring Rose perfume?” spritzer girl asked.

“I just went to the dentist.” The older woman answered.

“Oh, that’s nice. Would you like a light spritz of our new perfume?”

“I don’t have any cavities.”

“Well, good for you! How about celebrating your cavity-free check-up with some new perfume? Our new Fresh Spring Rose perfume is on sale today…” spritzer girl tried to continue, but the older woman interrupted her sales pitch.

“I just went to the dentist and now I am going downstairs to have a Pepsi,” the older woman stated with child-like enthusiasm.

“Okay, but first wouldn’t you like to try our new perfume?” spritzer girl replied, her voice tainted with frustration.

“I don’t have any cavities. I’m going downstairs to have a Pepsi now.”

“Great,” spritzer girl said flatly, “the elevator is that way.”

With signs of exasperation and defeat cracking her made-up pleasant façade, spritzer girl walked away with her un-spritzed bottle of Fresh Spring Rose perfume. The older woman walked toward the elevator with a triumphant, cavity-free, teeth-baring smile on her face.

I wanted to applaud. Without being rude and with just a few seemingly random sentences, the older woman interrupted a professional sales pitch and was on her way in less than 45 seconds. I had been standing at the cosmetics counter for ten minutes listening to the sales associate ramble on about the detriments of waterproof mascara. Taking a cue from the brilliant performance I had just witnessed, I turned to the sales associate and said, “I just started my period. I am going downstairs to have a Pepsi.”

Thinking and writing about this true story (I could not make this up) brings a tear to my eye. Thank God, I am wearing waterproof mascara.

But that’s just me.

Young Woman or Old Witch

When you look at the black and white sketch above, do you see an old witch? Or a young woman?

A Facebook friend of mine recently left this comment about my profile photo, “Colleen! Love the photo! You are (and always have been) stunning!” To which I promptly replied, “Aw, thanks sweetie - but obviously you don't remember me in the 80s with my bad perms, buck teeth and braces! Now, at my age, it is all smoke and mirrors - good lighting, make-up, a soft-focus lens, and Photoshop!”

I am not a perfect specimen—nor have I ever claimed to be—but that hasn’t stopped me from trying to attain perfection. Veneers; braces; teeth whitening; liposuction; breast augmentation; Botox injections; hair coloring, hair straightening and permanent waves. I’ve done it all. And even with all of that, one look at my cottage cheese thighs and sagging jowls will tell you that my quest for perfection has been futile.

Oh well, I may not have physical perfection but at least I have a good personality. Okay, my personality isn’t going to win me any popularity contests either. I am a straight-talker with a loud voice and a sharp tongue. I have a sarcastic wit, an obnoxious laugh, and a devil-may-care attitude when it comes to social conventionalities. Some people actually find these qualities endearing, and I call those people, friends. Some people find me abrasive and bitchy—and to those people I say, “Lick my bunger hole.”

But that’s just me.

Judging other people is a lot like looking at the sketch of the old witch…or the young woman. Whichever impression you see first is the one that sticks in your mind. The longer you hold onto that impression, the more difficult it is to change your mind—to change your initial impression. But if you maintain an open mind, your perspective changes and allows you to see someone differently—as different as seeing a young woman…or an old witch.

A Year in the Life of a Stewardess

I was curious to know just how much flying I do in a year. I mean, it seems like I spend A LOT of time on the plane, but I wanted to know exactly how much of my life on this planet is spent flying above it. So, I kept all of my trip sheets for 2008 and added them up. The numbers amazed me because I actually cut back on my flying in 2008! Here are the results of my “Year in the Life of a Stewardess” inventory:

I flew 1,234 hours and 35 minutes (actual “in the air” time - not including ground time or duty day) in 2008. Roughly translated, that is 367,732 miles. I spent 127 nights in hotels and approximately 211 days away from home. Hmm, and I wonder why I am still single!

Actually no, I don’t wonder why I am still single, I have come to embrace it and my transient lifestyle. I love being a Stewardess. What I said in my Flight Attendant interview 10 years ago still holds true, “I love to travel and I love people”. Well, at least the first part is still true. ;-)

But that’s just me.

2009 Weblog Awards: the Bloggies

My fellow Americans,

It is time to cast your vote. No, not for president, it is time to vote for the ninth annual Weblog Awards: the 2009 Bloggies. Voting is easy and you don’t even have to drive to a polling place!

Just go to: http://2009.bloggies.com and nominate at least 3 different weblog nominees. You can vote for the same weblog in as many different categories as it qualifies. Of course, I hope you will nominate my blog: http://but-thatsjustme.blogspot.com for “Best Writing of a Weblog.” Nominations are accepted until Monday January 12th at 10 PM EST. Finalists will be announced and then finalist voting is from January 22 – February 2 10 PM EST.

As they say in Hollywood, “It is an honor just to be nominated.” SO VOTE FOR ME! - pretty please

Yours in prose,
Colleen