Author Archives: Words Just Fly

Is it really free speech if you could lose your job over your opinions?

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There is this very passionate Delta Airlines flight attendant who’s apparently pissed off at the passengers that fly the friendly skies.

He wrote an open letter to all airline passengers on his Facebook page below. While I understand his feelings about the horrible plane crash at SFO being a flight attendant for a major airline do you think it’s his place to write a letter like this? Do you think Delta’s gonna be pissed off? Do you think you could lose his job over this? I also understand his frustration with some passengers who fly. Not all of them are nice, kind, respectful, or very bright. Some behave entitled, self-absorbed, and superior.

But isn’t that mankind in general?

When I first read this letter I thought “right on!!!” Way.to.go! But then after I thought about it for a day I thought you know this poor guy’s probably gonna lose his job- Because he’s throwing all of us and one general category.

The deal is he chose his career. If he was paying attention during training he would learn and know that being a flight attendant is not a glamorous job. Not only are you responsible for every passenger on your aircraft you’re also responsible for feeding caring for and cleaning up after those who fly on your aircraft. My thoughts are if he didn’t want to deal with those passengers who are a pain in the ass – or if all of us are pain in the ass like his letter indicates he should’ve chose a different job.

Take any other service oriented person- Drs., nurses, physical therapists, receptionists, and yes other people in customer service, you know our waitstaff, our caterers – Anyone who interacts with the public on a one-to-one basis.

We all do pretty much the same kind of job- Granted our job descriptions are incredibly different from one another – But we all deal with people up close and personal. And if we don’t like dealing with people then I guess we need to change careers. Because guess what- The general public is going to miss behave and the general public has people made up in this population that behave like assholes. So if in fact that bothers you then I guess you need to find a job where you don’t have to interact with the public on a daily basis. And you might as well forget it – you’re never going to change people or their behavior.

So again while I understand and I admire the passion behind this flight attendants letter to all the passengers who fly the friendly skies I can’t help but think that every single passenger who flies on his aircraft is paying his wage.

What do you think?

https://www.facebook.com/mpalmer79.

Mathew Palmer
Sunday
On Open Letter to Airline Passengers:

Many of you ignore us. And by us, I mean your flight crew – you know, those pesky, perky folks in polyester that pour Cokes. Flight Attendants, contrary to popular belief, are highly skilled and it’s not in the art of delivering beverages and snacks. Instead, we’re safety professionals initially taught for weeks, some of us a couple months, on delivering babies, putting out fires, administering first aid and, of course, evacuating an aircraft… which means getting you off and to safety along with perhaps hundreds more in ninety seconds or less. We are required by the FAA to maintain these skills through annual recurrent training.

In an incredible show of just how capable Flight Attendants are at their job, our colleagues at Asiana Airlines evacuated a full Boeing 777 before it was engulfed in flames after crash-landing in San Francisco. Kudos to them for sure… Among our industry, we hold them in awe, partly because we are thankful it wasn’t us on that plane. We can do it and perhaps must one day, but no one wants to be faced with the danger, with death.

But, you, Passenger, have to make a phone call. Send that text. Play with your iProduct. Ignore the safety demonstration. Do you recall where your exit was? The plane is on fire; the door near you is blocked. The overhead bin is now in your lap. Smoke has filled the cabin and you cannot see. Wires and oxygen masks hang in your face. Who are you gonna look for now?

Oh, it’s the Flight Attendant! The one who said hello to you during boarding but to whom you could not utter a word because you were too busy to notice.

We appreciate your flying; we genuinely do. We enjoy hearing about your world, where you’re heading for business or vacation. Without your business, we wouldn’t feed ourselves much less our families. We couldn’t pay our car payments or afford to educate ourselves higher than the degrees many already possess. We also wouldn’t jet off to exotic locales courtesy of the company we work for and enjoy a lifestyle unlike any other. We really do enjoy serving you.

What we don’t enjoy is being taken for granted. We are trained to react for both anticipated and unanticipated emergencies. The Asiana crew had no clue what was about to befall them. This would be an unanticipated emergency. After an almost eleven hour flight, the crew likely had discussed what they’d enjoy on their layover in San Francisco, one of my favorites. Without a doubt, though, the crew – like all of us – silently/mentally prepare for just what happened. Who would have thought that the landing gear would be sheared off by the sea wall and the tail of the aircraft ripped apart? Thank God the plane didn’t catapult down the runway…

When we sit on that jump seat for takeoff and landing, we are recalling our training. Where is my emergency equipment? What are my evacuation commands? If we land in the water, which exits are usable? What should I take with me to use until first responders arrive? The Asiana crew was en pointe.

And that is where we need you to be, Mister and Mrs. Important Passenger. We need you to turn off your damned electronics and listen to us. Debate the specifics of whether it interferes with aircraft navigation guides with someone else. We need you to hear us and not just for your sake. While you’re being caught up to speed on the very important details other passengers are comprehending, you’re cutting into the ninety seconds we’re trained to get you off the aircraft, namely because that’s approximately the time it takes for it to become engulfed in flames. It’s not just you we’re tasked with saving… it’s everyone on board, and then ourselves.

You can thank us later… after you say hello. And, leave your damned belongings behind like we told you. No one needs luggage during an evacuation. And, if you puncture the slide on one of our only usable exits, we’re not going to be as happy as we were when we were pouring you that Diet Coke.

Think it cannot happen to you: You can’t ask those two teens that died but ask the hundreds who walked away. — with Ginger Murphy.

When your mind won’t stop long enough to pause

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Up until the past year I’ve never had a problem sleeping. I could lay my head down and in five minutes be out cold.

And I used to sleep like the dead.

Not so much anymore.

Everything affects me- Much more so than it ever did before.

I’m now sensitive to sound. It’s as if I have developed super sonic hearing. I swear to God I can hear someone talking 5 miles away. I hear every creak, groan, and crack the house makes at night. As much as I not to let my imagination run away with me with God knows what I might think – Aliens, home invasion, robbers, who knows. The truth is I’m sure it’s always the house settling.

My husband snores- This does not help. I can hear the neighbors snoring. It’s just not help.

My room has to be cool, and dark. No light or I don’t sleep. God help me if I’m over warm or sweating.

Last night there was a symphony of bullfrogs out in the meadow across the way making their beautiful music. Do you think that their lullaby could put me to sleep? No unfortunately I don’t know how long they kept me up. What began as something beautiful and reminiscent of my childhood shortly became irritating because I couldn’t sleep.

The rain used to be my natural sleeping pill. The harder it rained the harder I would sleep. Not anymore.

Along with all of this my brain won’t turn off. Part of me wonders if it’s stress and anxiety. Part of me wonders if it’s because I’m older. Part of me wonders if it’s because I run my own business and company and everything is on my shoulders. Part of me wonders if it’s genetic.

I come from a long line of non-– sleepers. So I come by being an insomniac naturally. We were all the night owls- And I used to be and wore that label with great pride. I can remember around 8 PM I would get my second wind, a burst of energy if you will, I could stay up until 1 AM or 2 AM with no problem. Now days if I’m not horizontal by 10 it’s all over for me.

But then sleep doesn’t always come.

I have tried everything- Exercise, reading, praying, warm milk, music, sex, hypnosis, meditation, and drugs.

I think my imagination is my worst enemy. In the good old days I could think about what I would do if I won a huge lottery. I could fantasize about walking into someone’s house and sitting down at the table and writing them a check- Or the places I would travel- Or the kind of house I would build-Or the charities I would help, etc… That in itself would lull me to sleep.

Again, not anymore. I know replace that ritual with worry and it’s so dumb. There’s so many things that I worry about but I have no control over that I can conceivably drive myself batshit.

The also weird thing that’s going on is that I am steadily losing weight- I’m doing it on purpose but I’m continuing to lose weight which is great- What’s weird about this is that I’m dreaming about things but I haven’t thought about in years that I’m realizing I satiated with the way I am at the time. For instance I’m almost down 50 pounds and I’m dreaming about stuff that happened to me when I was out this week many years ago.

Crazy times.

If any of you have insomnia what’s your home cure? How do you get your brain to turn off?

Wet or dry cappuccino? Come on.

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This is truly been the day from hell.

Why is it that when I go into a coffee shop and order cappuccino I can’t just get a goddamn cappuccino.

Why is it that they have to complicate everything by saying to me:

“Would you like a wet cappuccino or dry cappuccino”

Every time it’s the same thing. I pause, till my head to the left, give them a weird look like what the hell and I repeat the same words: ( Actually I’m so over this question I usually hiss)

“Just make me a cappuccino please.”

Sometimes I’ve been known to growl”

It ain’t pretty.

When Women Become Bitches….

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I stop what I’m doing and make homemade granola.

You think I kid — but no I am serious.

In my day job I am surrounded by thousands of women — 90% of who I deal with on a daily basis are women.  (I bet all you guys are licking your chops aren’t you.)

They are all different shapes, sizes, cultures, socioeconomic status, race, creed, faith, personalities,  and various walks of life — it’s truly for the most part a delightful diverse melting pot of individuals.

Most of the time I love my job.  Today is not one of those days.

The majority if the women I interact are delightful and I sincerely mean that. There are only a handful of women who I interact with who are not delightful and down right awful.

After spending almost all day attempting to resolve an issue that would make the majority happy I realized that there was no making everyone happy and I needed to come up with a resolution that would benefit the organization.

So I did.

And boy did he have howlers.

Instead of stressing myself to the point of a nervous breakdown I said :

“Screw this”

I shut everything down and made homemade granola from scratch that I can smell roasting in the oven.

Yep, that’s what I did.  When women become bitches you stop what you’re doing and make granola.

My diagnosis: I have a tiny penis.


 

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When I first read this I thought it said: “tiny penis” then I thought “I don’t even have a penis. Do I?”

I’ve been told I have a set of iron clad balls- But no penis. This would explain a lot:)

I’ve always got along better with men than women, I’ve been told I think more like a guy that I do a girl, and I’ve been known to be referred to as a hard ass bitch sometimes:) In fact one guy I dated years ago told me that I was resentful because I didn’t have a penis, and my problem was psychologically I really wanted to stand up and pee like a man.

So maybe my bad attitude stems from the fact that I have a tiny penis:) ha ha ha ha!

Truth be told this is just a fancy word for athletes foot- On my heel:)

Oh and I do have a plantars wart on my foot and the doc wants to treat with duct tape:)

You have no idea how much I have laughed over the fact that I thought for about 10 seconds my diagnosis really was that I had a tiny penis.

Okay so here’s the acid test – I wonder how many perverts I’m going to see googling tiny penis.

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Monday mornings or should that be Monday mournings.

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Why is it that the older we become the faster time seems to fly by?

Thinking back when I was a child – Christmas couldn’t get here soon enough. Going on a car trip – the destination couldn’t get here soon enough. “How many more miles to have to go ?” we would ask our parents over and over and over. I would keep a calendar that would have countdowns to many things that I anticipated.

For instance, in a former relationship, my partner asshole was in the Navy. He would regularly go on these things called “readiness exercises” – They were typically about 21 days long. My calendar would have the start date and end date and I would put big red X’s on every day he was gone and it seemed like it took years for him to come home when it was only a short 21 days. I had a love hate relationship with these things. I would either start a diet, or rearrange the house, or do something different to my hair, but there was always the anticipation factor when he would leave. And God help me when he would leave for long cruises of six months or more- Those were the worst.

I’m not a good person when it comes to waiting. That stupid quote that says good things come to those who wait is just bullshit my book. I hate being on hold, I hate hate hate standing in line, I don’t like waiting in the doctors office, or a dentist office, my thought is I just hate waiting.

It seemed like it took for ever for me to become 10 – that was such an important age to me and I don’t know why. Turning 16 seemed like an eternity as did turning 18 as well as turning 21. I highly anticipated 25 but then once I broached the age of 30 it was like my life hit the fast-forward button.

And now at age 50 I feel like a time traveler who is traveling at work speed and I can’t find the brakes!

Maybe this has to do with the fact that I become proficient at becoming such a time waster. Maybe the Internet feeds my tendency to be ADD. I can surf the web and begin reading the news and end up on some weird ass site for growing moon rocks in your backyard and not realize that three hours has gone by – time that’ll never get back.

Most likely it has to do with the fact that I work a ridiculous workweek- Typically I put in about 65 hours a week. That’s a lot of hours- but I own my own company and I’m all about making sure things are done right, the needs of our patients are met etc…. Any business owner gets this.

Unfortunately my partner is also in an incredibly demanding job and because of that and his work schedule we don’t get to see each other very much during the week. We also have a kid and balancing life, child raising and work is a challenge.

Which brings me to the weekend.

I used to loathe Friday nights – just loathed them. It was the end of a long week, everyone was crabby, I didn’t want to talk to anybody, I used up all my words for the week, all I wanted to do was sit and vegetate and not interact with the world.

However, when you’re married and have a kid that’s a really an unless you’re sick. And even when you’re sick you still kind of have to interact right? At least you do at my house.

I’m not sure when the shift occurred but I began to really look forward to Friday nights. Saturday nights have always been my favorite night of the week for many reasons- But Friday night began to really rate right up there with all good things in my life. And then of course I began to dread Sunday morning because I knew that before I knew it Sunday night would be here and it would be time to switch gears and mentally prepare for Monday morning – To begin the week again.

This weekend for example I began my work day Friday at around 6 AM. I looked up from my desk and it was already noon; the growl in my stomach told me it was time to stop and eat lunch.

So I did.

I had an appointment in Portland so I grabbed my kid and we made the mad dash to Portland and I got home around 3 PM. I had to think about dinner and that lasted about an hour which took me to about 4 o’clock. I’m not sure what happened between 4 PM and 6 PM that’s a blur but my husband whistled in around 6:30 we had dinner almost immediately and the next thing I knew it was 11 o’clock! We all crashed, slept in, got up and started her day around 8 AM.

And I’ll be damned if I didn’t wake up at 6 o’clock this morning realizing it was freaking Monday all ready!!!!

I used to not understand when retired people would say they’re busier now that you’re retired than they were when they were working. Now I get it – I think it’s because the time just speeds bye.

Oh crap – a lame post brought to you by the letter “L”

Super Moon and Dreams


Any time that we have a super moon I have weird dreams. Last night was no exception.

The bummer about these dreams is that even though they are incredibly vivid – I can smell, taste, feel, here I have a hard time remembering them unless I write them down immediately after get up.

I admit to being a lazy writer and I don’t typically write every detail down.

I remember my dream as being frustrating, sort of sad, a little scary but mostly frustrating.

I was sitting inside a small building that had big windows and the door I was sitting in front of this kind of like a Dutch door the top slot open to where you could see the outside.

There was a man sitting in a wheelchair and he had no legs just stumps for thighs. We both were waiting for some man to come interview us about something. I think it was law-enforcement related. I don’t know if something happened or we were involved in incident together but I remember we were just waiting making small talk.

I remember that there was a flurry of activity, lots of gunfire, lots of yelling, and when I looked over at this man he started to cry. Instinctively I walked over and kneeled next to him and took his hand. He said softly that he was very scared and I remember not being scared but holding his hand up to my lips like I was whispering to his hand that it would be okay and not to worry.

I was lying because I was scared.

I put my arm around him and pulled him close to me but remembering that there was a wheel in between us because he was sitting in a wheelchair.

The man who was going to interview us opened the door and came in and locked it and said we needed to get away from the window and he had In and Out Burger sacks with him they had hamburgers inside. I remember whispering to this man in the wheelchair not to eat hamburgers because I was sure that they were probably poisoned. He nodded slowly and look at me and his eyes were the most incredible green I’ve ever seen and he mouthed to me “I know.”

Then I woke up. It was about 3:30in the morning and I went to the restroom and came back to bed and promptly fell back to sleep.

I began dreaming almost instantly and this time my dream was with Siri- The stupid bitch on my phone. She and I got into a huge catfight. It was over the miss pronunciation of a word. I can’t tell you what word she was mispronouncing but she was clearly mispronouncing a word and it was pissing me off.

I told her that she was mispronouncing this word and she became very angry and told me I was a stupid American. I told her she was a stupid computer- a ridiculous android was no feelings.

Then she started sobbing and started reciting every single secret that I have ever held near and dear to me. She was just spewing them out and yelling them out and I was just horrified. I wanted to kill her.

Every time I want to turn the phone off it would zap me. I was getting more and more angry until the guy from that movie the labyrinth –I think his name is Jared — jumped up in front of me — you know the guy played by David Bowie and he said “you have no power over me.” And then Siri shut up and David Bowie grabbed me and kissed me passionately and I tasted cigarettes and then I woke up.

Weird huh?

I looked at the clock and it was only 6 o’clock and I refused to get up at 6 AM on a Sunday morning. So I rolled over and just kind of laid there and started thinking about these dreams and the next thing I knew I must’ve fallen asleep because I was dreaming again and this time my dream was funny because I was making candy and it was chocolate ganache and it smelled so good and I was hungry and I was eating it by the spoonfuls – I cut a reflection of myself in the mirror and I was like asize 4 and it was amazing.

The orders that I was receiving to dip in the ganache werefor crazy things like a tennis racket, a soccer ball pizza, cucumbers, grapefruit, watermelon, a chicken, pieces steak and a taco.

Then I woke up and it was 9 o’clock and I knew I needed to get up then. So I did.

And now it’s 12 1/2 hours later. I’ve had an incredibly slothy, lazy, amazing great day. My house is still. No sound except for the rain that is steadily falling upon the roof. It’s times like these I wish I lived in a little cabin with a tin roof.

However, this is good enough and the rain is making me incredibly sleepy so with that I’m going to bundle up on our second day of summer and go to sleep to the melody of the rain as it lulls me to sleep.

Good night.

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Yeah- it was me who farted next to you in isle three at Costco

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I couldn’t help it. Really I couldn’t. I have added an over abundance of fiber to my diet along with massive amounts of fresh fruits and vegetables.

Costco was a necessary evil — I hate that place but I needed to get “stuff”. Making my way through this hell hole I felt my gut begin its normal afternoon rumble and I paused for a moment and thought “oh shit please not here.” Weaving my way through the throngs of annoyed looking faces I rounded the coffee isle and it began–

My soft little motorboat of methane that propelled me down the coffee isle only audible to me leaving a lovely cloud of methane behind me as its fragrance wafted in with the freshly roasted coffee.

Careful not to panic I looked around and made a face – the only face we store farters can make when we want to pin the blame on someone else. You know the one – the one of disgust “Oh good God did you do that!?”

An older couple exchanged looks and smirks with one another – I am sure they assumed the other had ripped the old SBD – silent but deadly. While others wrinkled their noses, or coughed. I heard a few “My God what the hell died…” Comments and a five year old who exclaimed “Dad! Did you do that because it doesn’t smell like me or mom!”

I continued quietly on my way hoping to God I didn’t receive the finger point and a visit from the fart police of Costco “Mrs. W. Just Fly we traced the trail of methane to you- we know you did it- just admit it.”

Before I knew it I was happily on my way out of that crazy place and back into the safety of my sound proof car where I could really let them rip and relish in the comfort and safety of four doors, windows, and air freshener.

Oh come on- don’t even tell me you haven’t broken wind in the grocery store – I know you have…