In My Space – Taking Flight, Car Repairs, and Debutantes

by Peggy Gandy

TAKING FLIGHT

Passengers flying today pay more for extras than the cost of their tickets. The only thing they aren’t charging us for is the use of the on board restrooms. You know the ones you have to jump over two drink carts to get to. They’re so small you have to back into ‘em. No one has ever succeeded in turning around in one. And if the plane should hit turbulence, you can only go up and knock yourself out, or come flying out the door into the other four souls who have been urgently waiting in line hoping to make it before the ‘fasten your seatbelt’ sign goes on. There is one other possibility. If you happen to hit flush – you’re gone. From the moment the stewardess begins her Preflight Safely Lecture, which only four people on the plane listen to and none of them understand English, I begin to get nervous. (The other 42 has headphones on listening to the latest Stock Exchange reports… yeah sure.). The pilot announces in a dull mumble, a slight delay because they don’t have a full crew. They are waiting on the co-pilot and a stewardess. So, did they oversleep, party last night, forget what day it is? When they get here will they be so hung over we won’t clear the air tower. Do the traffic controllers know when to duck? I insist on a window seat so I can keep an eye on the wing in case it drops off, or worse still, catches on fire. It’s a violation of FAA Code 0026 for pilots to mention anything to the passengers but ‘a little turbulence’, they are experiencing. When we begin our descent the intercom switches on and the same monotone pilot says, “We should have a reasonably smooth descent folks, they’re a few rain clouds but we don’t foresee any real problem, maybe a little turbulence, so buckle up, put your trays up and brace for landing.’’ When the plane rolls to a stop, I clap and embrace both my seatmates who are embarrassed and hope no one thinks they’re traveling with me. So, you’re probably asking yourself about now, ‘why does she fly?’ Well, I’ll tell you why. No one stands still at a party when you bring up your bus trip.

CAR REPAIR WOES

Have you tried to find a gas station/repair garage lately? They’ve all gone underground and you have to know someone whose brother-in-law fixes dirt bikes, to find out where they’re hiding. Instead of saving the whales we should be saving these independent car mechanics who wouldn’t be caught without a dip stick in their hands and put your car up on a lift to take a nail out of your tire while you wait. For the more serious repairs like changing your oil or a burned out brake light, you wait sitting on a plastic chair with a wobbly leg. The only reading material is a 1958 spark plug catalog somebody threw on the floor to soak up an oil slick and the labels on the stacks of motor oil. When you are bored with that you can check out the steel belted radials and try the drink machine. You know, the one out of order. But, they get the work done in one day and the charges are in range of your MasterCard. Nowadays gas stations live on every street corner, have 24 pumps and not even a robot to put air in your tires, clean your windshields or check your oil. So, you take your car in to the dealer for repairs. Chances are if it’s not still under warranty, the repair bill will be so astronomical they’ll offer you a plan to refinance. The waiting rooms at these dealer repair shops have all the amenities, (though they do offer you a fly swatter to keep the flies off the donuts and cinnamon rolls). The gourmet coffee maker is so sophisticated you can’t even figure out how to pour a cup after it perks and a large television screen looming on the wall is set on either a talk show or Dr. Oz. You never see the mechanic, instead you talk to a nicely pressed service manager who calls you by your first name and offers to clean your windshield for free. What a nice guy. Not anyone you would want to spend time with though. The end result is still the same when you drive home even with this upscale repair. The glove compartment still pops open when you turn your left signal on and the carburetor has been adjusted so the motor races and it takes two feet on the brakes to keep it from moving off at the stop light.

TRADITION! TRADITION!

The 2015 Beaux Arts debutantes and their escorts were announced in June. They will be formally introduced at the traditional Beaux Arts Ball the Saturday after Thanksgiving at Oklahoma City Golf & Country Club. The name of the Beaux Arts King, selected by the Beaux Arts Committee for his exemplary services to the community and kept a secret until the night of the ball, will be revealed. Proceeds from the ball benefit the Oklahoma City Museum of Art. Proceeds from last year’s ball were $30,000. 2015 debs are: Carly Collins, Callie Kumler, Abby Johnston, Katie Hanstein, Taylor Trachtenberg, Liza Cameron, Catherine Lewis, Monica Elkins, Caroline Sullivan, Katherine Wolf, Natalie Robinson, Caroline Say, Asha Nanda, Olivia Metzer, Gabrielle Hefner, Anna Harlow, Dana Silver, Grace Williams and Hannah Frogge.