In 1952, I cycled from Staten Island to Newark Airport. The old terminal. I would sit on my bike and watch the planes depart. My favorite place was adjacent to the Eastern Shuttle site. They flew Lockheed Constellations, large 4 engine aircraft. They flew every hour between Boston or Washington and back.
One day I saw the Captain and he came over and I was thrilled! We spoke and I told him of all the model WW II aircraft I built. He flew B 17s, and I had one. I was just thrilled to meet a real pilot. My grandfather had take me up on Piper Cub flights, those high wing yellow birds, from an airport on Staten Island. I told the pilot all about the thrill.
He then said: "Want to fly to Boston?"
What else could I say but sure! Thus I parked my bike and climbed aboard with a jump seat in the flight deck. Up and back, three hours and I was home for dinner. My secret. Today of course it would have violate dozens of laws and we would all be in prison. But back ten it was an adventure.
I loved flying. The elegance of the passengers, the thoughts of who may have been on the flights.
Today, as the Secretary of Transportation notes, dressing has collapsed. One sees morbidly obese people in sweat pants dropping well down their behind, or yoga pants leaving nothing to the immigration. Tattooed creatures lugging half the worldly belonging behind them. Food and drinks of all sorts. Clothes that last saw a cleaning months ago!
The Secretary has a point. But alas those days are gone forever. Just try and find people in a suit,or dress. I sat in a surgical waiting room a few months back, and looked about. Men in cargo shorts, T shirts, tattoos, and scroungy beards! Enough sources of infection to kill a Russian Army!
So who sets what standards. Class is often defined by what one wears. Class can be both defining and controlling. But one often gets more respect if properly attired, and less otherwise.
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