If I were a Rich Man, Pt 2

I never did provide part II of that earlier entry on what I would do if I ever became beyond rich. One of the things at the top of the list: fully fund an aggressive, Manhattan-project style research effort to make teleportation a reality. Really, does anything ruin a vacation more than the stress of having to fly to get back home? Roaring through the air at 500+ mph is great, and beats driving at 1/10 that speed. But when I get in my car, the only set of inane rules I need to worry about are the ones documented the in driver's handbook we all read when we were 16. And, in fact, those rules aren't innane--they're actually mostly sensible laws designed to protect us from others (except seat belt laws; the insurance industry does get to write a few of their own I guess). About the most you have to worry about is making sure you're not the fastest person on the road, or that that large Crown Victoria behind you is being driving by anyone other than a 90 year old.

Contrast that to what you have to remember when flying: unbendable, arbitrary, and constantly changing rules set by multiple different entities, most of whom do nothing to work with each other. First the airline has endlessly complex rules about how soon you have to check your bag; what you can and can't pack and bring on board with you; what you can and can't do based on what kind of ticket you bought; what kind of seat you can sit in (it's not as simple as first-class/economy any more--you can be charged more to sit in certain seats IN economy, and every airline--and sometimes every airline's plane--is different). If you need to change or fix something, each fix results in more money flying out of your wallet--so there's a careful resource-balancing game you have to play to maximize your comfort while minimizing your financial outlay. In the real world people would spend weeks writing PERT charts to determine this but you have to do it while also dealing with...

...the TSA, who invent rules by the hour, all designed to--well, heck if I know. The latest arbitrary rules are designed to keep passengers from igniting their underpants during the last hour of the flight. But true to form, I'm not even sure at the moment if those rules apply to domestic-only flights. I guess that's the idea--keep me, the potential terrorist, guessing. Except I'm not a potential terrorist--I'm the friggin customer. Anyway, running afoul of these rules can result in, at best, missing your flight, causing you to have to resort to the airline's unbending rules (see item above), or at worst, a criminal record. No pressure there to get it right your first try, no sir.

And finally there's everyone else involved. Each airport has its own kabuki dance to follow--where you can pull up, how easy-going they are about standing while unloading, whether there's curbside check-in, how close things are to each other and how easy it is to get around vs walking for miles or waiting for some infrequent people-mover (or, like Dulles, a bizarre "mobile lounge"). Better factor in all that if you want to know how many hundreds of hours beforehand to show up.

As a special treat, unless you cabbed it around, you probably rented a car. Someday I'll write an entire rambling essay on the rental car experience. Aside from being the most taxed item in the US (I can probably provide proof of this), it, too, is designed for maximum dollar extraction by the rental agency. The scam of wanting to charge me--this is not an exaggeration--$6.99 a gallon for gas if I don't return the car full requires I stop and fill the tank just before returning the car. Strangely, most airports have a dearth of gas stations near them, so be sure to add 20 minutes to drive around looking for one, unless you enjoy the stress of getting lost looking for an Exxon while trying to catch a flight. In addition, more and more airports are building "consolidated rental car facilities," which is a bond-issuable way of saying "for your convenience, we moved all the car rental counters out of the terminal and into a building 10 miles away to which we provide bus service every 15 minutes." Even that, however, is preferable to the particular nightmare I've experienced here in San Diego, where all the "on-site" airport rental agencies are scattered in a five-mile radius far away from the terminal, each providing their own shuttle service that runs on their own schedules--and since each is in a different place (no different than any other business) there isn't even a helpful sign that says "rental car returns." Be sure to have the exact address of your rental agency programmed into your GPS and add 40 more minutes, to get there, wait for someone to inspect your car, give you your paperwork, and then, you know, eventually drive you to the airport.

So yeah, whew, all that so you can race home 8 miles in the air. It is truly amazing to me how something that was designed to be fast and convenient has had just about every conceivable restriction put on it to make it anything but. That's a sure sign that the technology hasn't kept pace with our needs. So look for that research foundation of mine to someday take shape so we can beam ourselves to warmer weather, while simultaneously putting out of business a dozen industries and government agencies. I'd say that the kind of shake-up we need next. Until then, I look forward to having every ounce of relaxation of this vacation obliterated as I navigate the morass of all that all so I can jet home to 20 degree weather and a Monday morning at my desk at work.