Divided by a common language

It’s seven years since I have been to the US – a bit busy and a bit Bush-averse.  So it’s good to be back in the Land of the Free which is, of course, one of the most compliant nations on earth.  ‘Stand in line’ and they rush to queue up.  Offered 14 levels of Frequent Flyer status and they line up like children waiting for a star from teacher.  My aspiration is that one day I shall  board a plane using the Breezeway.

One thing has changed since I was here last.  The cellphone is king.  Lone travellers talk constantly to Momma back home.  And they start talking as the wheels hit the runway.  All Blackberries – because this is O’Bamaland and he’s Coach.

Meanwhile – a glossary of terms:

Gatehouse [as in Gatehouse of Fleet] – area round the Departure Gate

Approach the Podium – go to the Desk to engage in energetic discussion about seat allocation.  Whatever happened to the quaint idea that one just elbows one’s way on and takes a seat?

Deplane – self-evident

Best of all – but I hardly believe I heard this.  After four flights, I arrived in a tiny plane at Ashville, North Carolina.  The carry on bags were too big – did I hear them referred to as ‘ballet bags’ which we could pick up as we deplaned.

So onward with America TV – offering me Gloria Copland’s ‘Believer’s Voice of Victory’ where ‘The future is stored up in YOUR  heart’

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