The Living Experiment
Get ready to take sides, because this column is sure to annoy. Ever since my anguished column about the outrageousness of showing violent movie trailers to a theater full of children, ticked-off people have implored me to take on their beefs. Today, in honor of righteous citizens everywhere, I address two concerns: policies regarding airline seats and road rage.
On a recent airline trip from Minneapolis to San Francisco, a friend, her husband and infant son occupied the two seats nearest the window. When an obese man commenced to sit in the aisle seat, he lifted the armrest and essentially sat on my friend's lap, which was already full with her son. She didn't think it was fair that she, her husband, and her son were relegated to one and a half seats, after paying for two, while the man used one and a half seats, after paying only for one.
Another friend commented that the airlines are at fault for cramming too many seats in too little space. But she conceded that she does like low air fares.
What is fair with respect to fares? Should larger people buytwo seats if they do not fit into just one? If so, would this be discriminatory? Should people who purchase a seat be assured their space will not be encroached upon?
Here's an idea: the airlines could reconfigure a row or two of seats to accommodate larger passengers. Fares would remain the same for all, and everyone would be more comfortable. Regulating this would be tricky, as passengers of all sizes would clamor for the more spacious seats. Perhaps these seats could be assigned on an as-needed basis. I'll let the airlines work out the particulars. All I know is. . .
Size does matter.
And now, on to another beef.
Road rage is rampant in parking lots of our local shopping centers. The worst dangers are usually drivers juggling Starbucks' cups and cell phones. Lately the dangers have become more ominous. A friend relayed a recent incident when young guys yelled at an elderly woman who parked too close to their SUV. "Don't park your rotten piece of blankety-blank next to my Lexus, lady. You're going to blankety-blank the paint." When the lady ignored him as she carried her poodle to the vet, they yelled, "I hope your blankety-blank dog dies."
I could rant and rave about civility and manners and question when it is ever OK to swear at strangers and wish their beloved pets dead. But I don't need to. I figure you are already seething. Here's another story, this one mine.
On the Saturday the 49ers beat the Packers, I was pushing my full grocery cart to my car when fans from the opposing teams began yelling and swearing at each other from their vehicles. Apparently this was insufficient; the driver of the SUV (hmmm. . .) then spun around the parking lot three times, very fast, with no regard to pedestrians. I was actually frightened, as if one of them might pull a gun.
And I'd be caught in the crossfire.
And a newspaper headline would read: Local mom shot dead in gang crossfire. Subtitle: Sleepy neighborhood in shock. And the article would talk about what a wonderful woman I was, and the parents of my murderer would say what a good boy he is, and the neighbors would say that he was a quiet boy who kept to himself. Next to the article would be a photo of my grief-stricken husband standing numbly on our front porch.
But I digress.
I have no tidy solutions to this one, aside from taking the Lexus keys away from the disrespectful and menacing.
Angry yet?
Kerri Havnen Gordon
February 10, 1999
Kerri Havnen Gordon writes The Living Experiment monthly for the
Town Crier.