2006-08-26T13:34:00.000-07:00

The Problem With Flying

Vacations – the domain of the well-off. Let’s face it, if you’re having trouble paying the mortgage or rent, chances are you aren’t going to take time off work, let alone going on an all-inclusive trip to Cuba. It doesn’t have to be Cuba, you say? Alright, how about a simple trip to Vancouver, where you’ll stay with friends? That’s $600 per ticket for airfare, plus money for food and souvenirs while you’re away.

The point of all this? Traveling is expensive, so you’d expect to get what you pay for, right?

Wrong.

In case you haven’t had the opportunity or good fortune to fly in the recent past (usually, only students or, like me, teachers, have the time to travel summer after summer after summer after summer…), let me tell you what it’s like. I’m not trying to talk you out of boarding your favourite carrier and jetting off to your favourite holiday destination. I’ll let you decide for yourself if it’s worth it.

I’ve always had a bit of a neurosis when it comes to promptness. School starts at 8:40? I’ll be there at 7:00. Meeting a friend for lunch at 12:00? I’d rather be there by 11:30 than be even five minutes late. Supposed to arrive at the airport two hours before your flight? I’ll be there four hours early. Just. In. Case.

With the recent scare in England (if you haven’t heard the news, you are probably also in the dark about the Toronto Maple Leafs not winning a Stanley Cup since ’67, John Gibbons’ auditions for Don King’s boxing stable, and Tom Cruise has gone from the Hollywood Hall of Fame to somewhere between Rob Schneider and Jackie Chan’s sister’s roommate’s brother), security measures have been tightened. As the great comedian George Carlin has lamented, you’ll hear stupid questions like, “Did you pack your own bags?” and “Have you always been in possession of your luggage?”. No, I found these bags outside, and, having no luggage of my own, I decided to bring them with me on the flight.

Once you’ve checked in, you’ll have the pleasure of standing in a long line of nervous travelers, all waiting to pass through the metal detector and then wait anxiously while several security personnel use x-ray machines to look at your carry-on luggage. And don’t forget – no liquids! Not even liquid lip balm! Also, make sure you take off your shoes. As I stood in a line with a hundred sweaty, nervous, shoeless people, I noted that maybe my elementary school class after gym didn’t smell so bad after all. If you’re unlucky enough, you’re sent to an adjoining area to get your bags searched by hand. More on that later.

Once you’re through there, customs will seem like a breeze. A few tough questions (Where are you staying, Who are you seeing), and you’re done! All that’s left is to wait for the flight. Right? Right? Wrong.

Time to board the flight, so you get out your passport, your boarding pass, and you line up when they call your section. All of a sudden, you hear an announcement to be prepared, if asked, to show the contents of your carry-on luggage. Depending on the airline, you may not have to do this, there might be one employee checking the occasional bag, or (and I’m not kidding about this) you might see five uniformed army officers set up folding tables by the gate to rifle through and question each passenger. Count yourself lucky if you get the officers, because what I saw happen in Charlotte, North Carolina, with the single US Airways employee checking bags was enough to make me reconsider wanting to be a member of the human race.

I watched a line of about 50 or 60 people before me board the plane, waiting patiently for my section to be called. He allowed each passenger to pass him without asking to look in the bags, except for the first four dark-skinned, visible minorities that reached the gate, as well as just about every other “darker” passenger. To be fair, after the first four, he sprinkled in the odd inspection here or there of the bags of Caucasian passengers, but he searched nearly every minority’s bag. Not every minority, mind you – I’m Chinese, and I definitely noticed that we so-called Orientals had an easier time than Blacks, Indians, Arabs, or anyone else not Caucasian.
I was stunned. Before he started checking, I wondered to myself if this would happen. Arab friends have told me stories of being checked more carefully, but I was hoping this was just a co-incidence. I’m not naïve though – I was curious to see this for myself. After the first person had her bag checked, I thought, well, surely it won’t happen again. But it happened again, and again, and again. By the time I was seated in the plane, I felt like I had just had my eyes opened to something I wasn’t supposed to see.

Fortunately for me, the fun was just beginning. Anyone who has ever been unlucky enough to fly economy class (no, I didn’t fly First Class – I’m a teacher, remember?) knows how cramped the seats can be to someone more than five feet tall. The cabin is far too cold. The washrooms are always (a) busy, (b) too small to even close the door unless you’re a carnival contortionist and (c) filthy. If you’ve flown in the past year or so, you also know there are no longer any meals (but you do get a pack of about 10 peanuts or microscopic pretzels and a complimentary cup of ice with a few drops of juice or water). Feel free to order a sandwich or salad or other assorted vacuum-sealed items for only five dollars.

Guess what? There’s more! There’s a wonderful movie to see, and on US Airways, they even show you a brief preview to whet your cinematic appetite. Then, the announcement: “If you would like to watch today’s featured on-board film, US Airways would like to offer you the opportunity to purchase a set of headphones, usable on any US Airways flight, for the low price of five dollars.” I wish I could tell you I was joking.

BUT WAIT!!! THERE’S MORE! You then have the chance to listen to a five-minute commercial, read by the pilot, advertising a special offer to sign up for a special credit card, a special joint venture by Visa and your favourite, special airline, US Airways! Sign up now, and you get…well, you get the idea.

Lest you think my experience was all negative, a few things did go very well. I have a newfound appreciation for money after endless delays allowed me to quell my thirst and hunger at various airport eating establishments. Now, when I see a ritzy restaurant charge ten bucks for a salad, I scoff. Ha! That’s nothing! I can also sympathize with oft-injured hockey royalty Mario Lemieux, now that I’ve ruined my back sitting in low-backed airport chairs and amazingly uncomfortable twenty year-old airplane seats. Finally, for the first time in my life, I can go thirty minutes without making a stupid, inappropriate joke – something you definitely want to avoid when talking to airport staff.

All is not lost, however. Here are a few suggestions for airlines to enhance and improve the flying experience:
(1) Re-instate meals. I’m not saying not to charge for them, but just add ten bucks to each ticket. Don’t even tell us! Just do it. The difference of ten bucks after you’ve already spent many hundreds is negligible.
(2) For the love of all that is good, re-pad the seats in the waiting areas and raise the height of the backs. I’m only 5’10”- what do tall people do?
(3) Can we please get the odd airport eatery that doesn’t cost me a first-born child, my spleen, or my silver fillings for a sandwich?
(4) If we have to wait several hours for delayed flights, would it be too much to ask for the odd television set up to show our favourite Maury Povich episodes?
(5) Finally, stop questioning the intelligence of your clientele – if you’re going to search bags, do it without discrimination.

Happy flying!

2006-06-28T09:28:00.000-07:00

Have You Had Your Feces Today?

Have you ever wondered just how much human waste you've eaten in your lifetime? Look at it this way - according to one study I read, 1 in 5 don't wash their hands before preparing food, 1 in 10 food handlers do not wash their hands when necessary, and 1 in 6 “wash” their hands with a quick rinse of cold running water. In other words, when you go to a dinner party, there's a 20% chance that your chef or host did not wash their hands. And I think these numbers are too generous! Have you ever gone to a bar or restaurant, and noticed how many men don't even do the cursory, in-a-hurry flick of their hands under a running tap for 2 or 3 seconds? I'm willing to bet that less than 50% of men use soap regularly, and even more just wipe their hands dry on their pants or shirt. It's appalling to see men come out of toilet stalls and go right back to their tables without washing. I'd like to think women do similar things, but having never been in a women's washroom, except when I've misread the sign on the door.

As George Carlin says, you don't have to wash your hands unless you shit on them. Well, you know what? If you're wiping your butt, I'm guessing there could be some fecal matter there, floating past the paper, onto your hand. Then, you go back to your table, root around in the bread basket, and pass on bits of yesterday's digested bean burrito or curry fried rice on to your fellow diners. Lovely.

But what scares me even more is the hygiene and practices of the food servers we deal with. Most are great and conscientious - please don't do anything to my food! However, I have talked to some people who have admitted to "doing things" to items of food served to disgruntled, rude or obnoxious patrons. Frankly, horrible as it sounds, I don't blame them - if I was getting paid below minimum wage, with no benefits or pension or hope of upward movement, and some smartly-dressed neanderthal complained incessantly about how long it was taking me to refill their water, bring the check, make change, blah blah blah, I'd probably lose it and spit in the food too.

Too bad it's worse than that.

I have spoken to friends and people who have: spat in food, sneezed on food, and, ummm, er, uhhh, added "bodily fluids" to a soda machine at a McDonalds.

Just how much of this crap (and I don't just mean the food at McDonalds either!) have we eaten? How much can we expect to eat? Let's do a little guesswork, shall we?

I think it's safe to say that if you eat out two or three times a week, at least, at the very least, once a month your food is going to have some saliva in it. It's inevitable. People sneeze, they wipe their mouths or noses if they're sick, it's on the hands, they touch the food, you eat it. Chances are, too, that if there's a disgruntled employee working the kitchen, and they're going to pee in soup, they aren't going to just relieve themselves in one soup bowl. For maximum effect, one day before quitting, it's going in the enormous pot being prepared for that evening's diners! Also, if 1 in 5 don't wash their hands before preparing food, there's going to be an infinitesimal - but still calculable - amount of dung on their hands. It might be just a fleck, but that's enough to get on your food.

So, here's my hypothesis...each month, I would guess the average person who eats out 2 or 3 meals a week can expect to ingest:
- 5 milligrams of feces
- 1 millilitre of urine
- 10 millilitres of saliva

Think that's too much? 5 milligrams isn't a hell of a lot. A little here, a little there...next thing you know, you're building up a healthy storage of pre-eaten corn, peanuts and vindaloo! Mmmm...vindaloo...

In a year, you'll be taking in:
- 60 mg of feces
- 12 mL of urine
- 120 mL of saliva

If the average person lives about 80 years, over the course of your lifetime, you can count on eating:
- 4.8 g of feces
- nearly 1 L of urine
- nearly 10 L of saliva

And let's be honest - I think the fecal matter estimate is a mighty conservative guess. No, I don't have any scientific evidence to back it up, but have you ever been to a Subway or Mr. Sub sandwich establishment in Canada? Have you ever gone to a Burger King or Wendy's? What about the mighty king of all filthy eateries - Taco Bell? I can't count the number of times I've gone to a fast food place and make the previous customer's sandwich with gloves on, take my money and order with the same gloves still on their hands, and then proceed to make my sandwich with the same gloves. Think of all the people who touched the money I handed to the server. Think of all the fecal matter, urine, semen and saliva already on that money. Think of it on the gloves. Think of it in the sandwich. Now think of that human waste doing a happy dance in your colon.

Good afternoon, can I take your order please?

Crazy Hypotheses