Comic Relief for the Frustrated Flyer
Mintzberg, who is an acclaimed management guru at McGill University, is more than just whining. He talks about the perils of economy class, comparing it to the exotic world beyond first class. And he has strategic advice for the airline industry. He explains the real purpose of an airport (hint: not just to get passengers to airplanes) and tells of his dealings with the International Tribunal for Airline Atrocities in Baghdad. But even if Mintzberg didn't write the book for me, its plane(!) funny. Here is comic relief for the frustrated flyer — expert, novice, normal, or completely irrational 'fraidy cat.
As for the bus journey from Dayton, one side-note to single girls who might be reading… If you want to preserve the bride's bouquet for posterity (or at least to scare potential future husbands with) after you've mowed down old college friends and the bride's relatives just to catch it, a 12-hour bus trip probably isn't such a good idea.
Even so, I still hate flying.
Struck by Lightning
Why I Hate Flying: Tales for the Tormented Traveler, by Henry Mintzberg (Textere, 142 pp., $16.95)
One girl told me she had taken Greyhound cross-country. Another fellow takes buses regularly, just for all the interesting characters he'll meet.
But my allegiance to the bus has little to do with a desire to meet to new people or soak up the rustic scenery. I sat on a bus from 1PM Friday to 6AM Saturday for one simple, practical reason: I hate flying.
In this, too, I am not alone. Meet Henry Mintzberg.
Why I Hate Flying is a small volume, small enough, in fact, to read on a relatively short plane ride. Or, if you are unfortunate enough to have the universal experience of being stuck in an airport while no planes, especially yours, can land or take off during a violent thunderstorm, this book's the friend who will commiserate. (This in fact happened to me when I took my first plane trip in years two months ago, on a reporting trip (to EWTN!) from New York to Birmingham, Ala. The experience was extra special owing to the words of a kind man who, earlier in the day told me how his plane had been struck by lightning that very morning above the same airport.)
A Wretched Hour
Laughing at Mintzberg's geeky jokes is probably more constructive, healthy, and charitable than attacking the poor working Americans stuck inside the airport with you (as the power goes out).
Why I Hate Flying is really aimed at the more seasoned traveler, the guy with the frequent-flyer miles he can afford to give to his friends. That is, it's not aimed at folks like me. Even though he's the husband of one of my dearest friends, I had never actually met Elizabeth's then-fiancé, Charlie, before the big day, because I was a coward and would not fly to Chicago, where they live. Charlie and Elizabeth, brave souls that they are, had planned a fall trip to New York City before the wedding, but, of course, it was canceled. And yes, you guessed it — their flight never took off.
At one point in the book, I am certain Mintzberg is writing about me. In a “real little airplane,” Mintzberg is in airline heaven, as far as that might stretch. No lines, no passport checks. The guy next to him, who had never stepped foot on a plane before, is going to meet his pen pal. It turns out the fella diagonally across from Mintzberg does not handle the plane's “little problem” with the landing gear all that well. (The “cute little white bag” proves to be “a little too little for the guy diagonally opposite me, however, who seems to be on some sort of nonstop excursion. A wretched hour….”)
(This article is reprinted with permission from National Review Online.)
