Tampabay: Canceled, delayed, diverted: flier beware

During the 29 hours and 15 minutes between leaving for the airport (the first time) and the moment we got home, certain observations on air travel occurred to me, which, I resolved, if later given the opportunity, to pass along in the spirit of cheerful helpfulness.

It certainly should be acknowledged that the airline in question, not to be identified except for the hint it might have been USAirways, delivered us intact. This admittedly was superior to any conceivable alternative.

It may smack of ingratitude, therefore, to complain that in only two endeavors -- air travel, and the purchase of home computers -- do Americans accept such a level of treatment.

The car mechanic does not say, "Sit down and shut up and come back next week." The dry cleaner does not say, "I'm not telling you when it's ready."

If you buy, let us say, a toaster, you plug it in, insert a slice of bread, and depress the plunger. In due time -- influenced by a user-adjustable dial -- the plunger pops upward, producing toast.

You do not need to call a 1-800-xxx-xxxx number for toast assistance, only to get a recorded menu of options that does not include your problem. Neither does the toaster, upon having a slice of bread inserted, post a sign saying: ALL TOAST CANCELED.

Even an inexplicable cancellation of toast would be a blessing, of course, compared with the delayed promise of toast. In such a system, toast is promised every half hour or so, with chirping little interruptions now and then over the intercom: "Your toast is heading for Cleveland, it will be stopping there for refueling, and then will be right along the way," as the day stretches into nighttime, and the once-busy concourse slowly drains of people, until only a few dazed souls remain at the last lonely gate, while the janitor or whoever is remaining smirks into the microphone, just before midnight, that your toast has been canceled. Local motel rooms are available starting at $200.

Perhaps you are saying: "You ungrateful cad! They are busy trying NOT to fly airplanes into thunderstorms and tornadoes, and you should fall to your knees and kiss the ticket agent's foot!" To which I say, then tell me the full truth, and show me a radar map, and an honest accounting of where all the planes are, and especially, quit telling me that a 737 is going to magically show up any second now when I can see that all those guys down on the tarmac have left behind a big sign saying, "No more planes today, nosiree!"

By the second day of this adventure, we negotiated a deal by which we would be transported to West Palm Beach, with a little puddle-jump home to Tampa. This would have worked fine, except that when it came time to return to the airport, we called first and the voice said, "Sure! Come right on out! Spend another $20 on a cab ride, on top of all you've spent so far, because everything is hunky-dory and we are ready to go!" This was airline-talk for the fact that the big sign again said: DELAYED, which stayed up there all afternoon, until we finally calculated, not like anybody was jumping forward to point it out, that we would not be landing in West Palm Beach in time for the last flight to Tampa. We therefore eschewed that flight, opting to remain in the terminal for many more hours, with an energetic 5-year-old nephew, for the evening version of our original flight 24 hours earlier, which turned out to be delayed only ONCE more. As sort of a goodwill gesture, they even knocked five minutes OFF the delay, which we had never seen happen, and took as a good omen.

Sometime after that I think we landed in Tampa, finding on our home answering machine a message informing us our return flight from LaGuardia was to be delayed. The day after that, having had the benefit of a brief stay in West Palm, our bag arrived as well, although it only got as far as the airport, and expected us to come fetch it. So in answer to your question, how was the trip, fine.

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Mary Jo Melone

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