UP IN THE AIR - RECALLING LIFE ON THE ROAD THROUGH THE MOVIE

They got it right !

Watching Up In The Air was like watching a home movie of my travels when I was in that club. Not THE multi-million mile club, but the one that is more common to frequent travelers - people that commute to an office by plane instead of car. I commuted to places like Chicago, San Diego,  Albany GA and Peoria, IL. I was in every air, hotel and car rental club there was. For a time, I was a road warrior.

One big difference between the movie and my life is that when I traveled, I did not look like George Clooney. And there was no Vera (or should I say, Alex).

See, we barely look alike (that's me on the right).

All those tips in the movie for choosing which security line to get into, according to who's in front of you -- folowing the Japanese gentlemen or other savvy business travelers and not getting behind the old people -- are all truisms. What ARE some people thinking when they pack? Well, we all know that answer.

Wearing slip ons... a good tip, although I don't always follow it. Actually, it wasn't long ago that that you only HAD to remove your shoes if you wanted to be sure to avoid setting off the metal detector. In those days it was not mandatory. So I would wear converse sneaks and glide right through. I thought they went well with my suit. Made me look like a rebel. Or at least, like a seasoned, intellectual traveller. Never had a problem - not due to shoes, anyway.

However, I often had a problem. I was the one pulled aside "at random" to be wanded; for a full baggage check, a frisking, to have my corkscrew confiscated. When I received my boarding pass (before check-in at home was doable), I would find a bunch of red SSSSS on it. As in SECURITY SEARCH. "Random", I was told, over and over.


In reality, this is me walking through O'Hare in 2003, between terminals B and C. George definitely got the look right !


Accumulation of miles was what it was all about. Not for any targeted trip, but some large number. When I first started flying, I did have a goal of gaining enough for a free trip to Hawaii for 2. But then after you make that number and keep flying, it's all about the accumulation. I was never anywhere near George (or should I say Ryan) in terms of miles, but I have flown enough to have gotten to the moon. I top off in the mid 300 thousands (373,587 to be exact). That is actual miles, not airline points - which are much more due to various bonus situations. 

If the number seems too low to elicit the kind of identity I have with this movie, it is because it was not until later in my career that I became a traveling consultant, and so a lot of it was concentrated between 2000 and 2004. I would still be at it today I had not exceeded how much crap I could put up with, business wise.

I thought Ryan's job in the movie was pretty cool. My wife disagrees. But I saw it exactly how he saw it - as an opportunity to take something bad and do the best with it for others... show leadership and professionalism while providing information to help a person through the transition - but also to provide a wake-up call in some cases where the employee got too comfortable and lax. I went through a job loss - it was my choosing as I refused a relocation. But it was no less scary to be on the outside, maybe even more so, because it was my choosing. I reinvented myself and enjoyed a very satisfying second career.

Comparing again, I had one up on Ryan - and it was a big one - because I had a home and someone who loved me, to come back to each time. Another reason why there was no Alex.

But like Ryan, I belonged to every club (that was reasonable to belong to). Did you ever fill out a survey where you were asked which airline club you were a member of? I get them every now and then, and I check them all. Except for Alaskan Airlines... who would fly them?

I was Hertz #1, I have an Avis Wizzard number, National Emerald club. I had access to the USAir and United lounges. Once I spent a couple hours with Counting Crows in the United Lounge at O'Hare. Of course, we simply sat next to each other and respected our mutual privacy. And elevated status.

They used to welcome me by name at the hotels and bump me up to the suite on the 17th floor of the Wyndham in downtown Chicago. The welcoming gift each week included Tanqueray and a bowl of fruit, sometimes, Rainier cherries.

My cards gave me access to the Hyatt Regency level and the Marriott executive level. And when they no longer did, I knew the back doors.

One of the weirdest moments in the movie for me was the scene where the 3 of them crash a vendor reception at the hotel by picking up someone else's badges. I did that more than once. I swear. Ask Sue. I got her in one time too. It's just another way to add excitement to what can become a very droll routine of dining and drinking.

And I thought I was in a VERY small club with that prank, but there it was in the movie. So maybe it's not so exclusive.

I hope I don't sound snooty, or privileged. It's really not like that. I am very humble and caring. This was the perk for a difficult job that a lot of people wouldn't take. It is just a matter of making the best of something. Problem is, once you receive the extra attention, however impersonal and inauthentic it is, it becomes addictive.

And like any other addiction, when it is over - when it is the morning after - there is a price to pay. Because the hell of being preferred is that the devil has coated it with a thin layer of candy and it only lasts as long as you pay for it. There is no allegiance beyond what you continue to buy on a yearly basis with the dollars you spend for travel (or more correctly, your company and its clients spend). 

And when the day comes that it is over, there is a slow but relentless pain as the elite levels expire, one by one. 

Instead of being paged when you are bumped to first class, you become nameless and you board in zone 6, following all the families with strollers and oversized carry ons that will fill the overheads before you board. Worse, you watch your former compadres board ahead of you, and then you walk past them, sitting in 2A, 3B with their first drink already half consumed. You squeeze down the aisle past 6C and 8D as you head for 17F or worse still, something above 25 or one of the true hells on a plane - a B or E seat.

I went through some painful withdrawals in 2005 and 2006. It's still not totally gone - the pain, I mean. I still do expense reports when I travel, not for reimbursements or for tax purposes, but for a need I don't understand - or as I say, to help me understand what the trip is costing my company - I mean, myself. 

I do my best with all the inside knowledge I've accumulated, but there is only so much you can do without buying your way back into the amenities that the club provides. And do you know how ridiculously priced it is when you have to pay for it yourself ?!

Such is life. 

So, maybe you'll see me on a plane someday, looking less than thrilled in coach. I'll be the one sitting with 2 drinks and a selection of mixed nuts, coated with a very fine sea salt. Nuts which have been placed in a small glass or ceramic bowl, pretending to be the ones you get in first class. I'll have my laptop with a movie going, or a set of Bose noise-cancelling headphones on while I read. And unless I was able to score the exit row, I'll be very cramped but looking as comfortable and zen-like and as I can in spite of it all. Feel free to say hi. I'd love to make a brief but limited and inconsequential acquaintance with you.