journeys, people watching, society, travel, wanderlust

observations on oz

“A traveler without observation is a bird without wings.” – Moslih Eddin Saadi

Every journey begins with one small step. In this case, it began with one very long flight. Fifteen and a half hours from LAX to Sydney. (I think I slept for part of it but that’s still up for debate). I’ve had a few weeks back in my real life to process everything I did and saw during my two week stay in Sydney. I originally thought that the trip would inspire an entire series of blog posts (and likely will still) but for now I’ve decided to take the easy way out and  to compile a list of the things that stand out the most. So, in no particular order and without bias, here goes:

  • When opening the drain of a sink or flushing the toilet, the water really does circle the drain in the opposite direction. Watching it do so is not, however, as exciting as my mind had built it up to be.
  • When planned and executed correctly, public transportation can be as, if not more, effective than personal transport. It took me a few days to figure out the buses and the transfers, but by the middle of the first week I was commuting like a local. Busses, trains and ferries criss-crossing the Sydney metropolitan area are clean, always on time and easy to navigate. I was starting to feel like a pro by the end of my stay and it was actually kind of weird to have to drive myself to work when I got home instead of catching a bus down the street from the house.
  • Only pretty people live in Sydney. No, seriously. I stood out with the rest of the tourists. The locals are easy on the eyes and in great shape- all of them. I was starting to get really self conscious walking around town. 
  • There is no free parking. Anywhere.
  • Fish & Chips taste better on Bondi Beach paired with a cold beer and good company. 
  • Apparently there are people who think Bruce Lee was in The Karate Kid. WTF?
  • Whilst Australia might be home to more creatures that can kill you than anywhere else on the planet, they are surprisingly  hard to find. I still checked my shoes before putting them on though. 
  • Despite all of the jokes I’ve heard about it, national healthcare isn’t bad. Two companion trips to the hospital for tests and imaging and I found the staff to be friendly and the process to be rather efficient. The main waiting room did have a slight “people of Wal-Mart” vibe going. 
  • I’m ashamed it took me well over 40 years to go to a professional rugby match. I’m hooked.
  • Meat pies. Thanks for teaching me, Shay. They aren’t as sketchy as Sweeney Todd sings about them being. I was a bit concerned, though, over what was meant by “Australian meat.”
  • Australia’s politics don’t lean quite as far to the left as I has assumed. While I was there, there was heating debate among politicians and citizens about marriage equality. I had assumed it has passed in Australia along with the rest of the Commonwealth well before it did here in the States. 
  • After several days of being driven around town, an American can almost get used to riding as a passenger in the seat they are use to driving in. The left turns still feel like they are taking you head on into oncoming traffic.
  • Higher Education bureaucracy may be the one constant in the universe. 
  • The coffee is the best I’ve ever had. I think I may be swearing off of Starbucks (except in drastic airport and convention center circumstances).
  • Kangaroos (especially joeys) are much cuter in real life and koalas are so fucking over you and your photo op.

Sydney. Sydney. Sydney. You have won me over. You are far more beautiful and welcoming than I ever imagined. You are full of life and damn fine coffee. In the end,  it wasn’t really about the tours, the opera house or the amazing climb to the top of the Sydney Harbour Bridge.  The most meaningful thing I took away was the importance of, and the respite found in, being so far away from all that can drag you down (like office politics, Facebook bullies and partisan politics).  It’s about spending unhurried time in the company of one of your best friends and being made to feel like part of the family- so much so, in fact, it was a jolting reality the last night to realize you actually live somewhere else. 

Time to put the pennies in the piggy bank and figure out how to do it all again.

“People travel to faraway places to watch, in fascination, the kind of people they ignore at home.” – Dagobert D. Runes

rant, service, travel, wanderlust

holding the reservation

I was in the gate area waiting  to board a flight from Tampa to Dallas in late February. The Tampa airport, like so many airports, has the absolute worst acoustics. Background music, crowd noise and competing announcements from several gates all echo and mingle together into audio chaos. This made it near impossible to hear the assortment of “more-special-than-me” groups being called out by the gate agent. We were all huddled under one speaker asking each other who was called and what was going on.

By happenstance, I received an email later that day from American Airlines outlining their new boarding process. It’s so simple that it’s brilliant. First class becomes Group One, Executive Platinum becomes Group 2 and so on. The first four groups are considered priority boarding and get to board through the lane marked, surprisingly, “priority.” General boarding is Group 5 and onward. I told you, so simple it’s genius.

The next day I received an email from Citibank explaining how my boarding group and status would be affected by the changes at American. I have the Citi® / AAdvantage® Executive Mastercard. [There are several Citi AAdvantage cards and this particular card has the benefits and perks I find the most valuable (we can discuss those in another post). It comes with some great perks and one of them is priority boarding. I covet priority boarding, not because it makes me feel special to use the boarding lane that’s separated from the inches to the left of the general boarding line by a station, but because it usually guarantees I’ll get space in an overhead bin and not have to check my bag.] As an Executive cardholder I will be boarding in Group 4, remember this is the final group classified as Priority. Boo-Ya!

I get to DFW Airport later the next week for another trip and check-in in at the kiosk. As I headed to the TSA Pre-Check line I noticed I was assigned to Group 5. Huh.

Jerry: I don’t understand, I made a reservation, do you have my reservation?

Agent: Yes, we do, unfortunately we ran out of cars.

Jerry: But the reservation keeps the car here. That’s why you have the reservation.

Agent: I know why we have reservations.

Jerry: I don’t think you do. If you did, I’d have a car. See, you know how to take the reservation, you just don’t know how to *hold* the reservation and that’s really the most important part of the reservation, the holding. Anybody can just take them.

From the Seinfeld episode, The Alternate Side

I waited for the line to die down and approached the gate agent to ask. I told the agent how much I loved the new boarding process and explained that I understood I would board in Group 4 but was assigned to Group 5 and asked if there had been a change to the new process. She said no and told me that credit cardholders were in Group 5. She pulled her cheat sheet out of the drawer to show me. I pointed to the Group 4 box that clearly said Citi® / AAdvantage® Executive Mastercard. She looked baffled. She wrote Group 4 on my boarding pass and suggested I talk to customer service.

I called customer service later that day and was told, ” credit cardholders were in Group 5.” I referenced the boarding process page on their website. She had no response and suggested I fill out the form on the AAdvantage website. I completed the form and included a link to the boarding policy and a screenshot of the emails I had received. Customer Service replied a couple of days later to thank me for my inquiry and letting me know they would get back to me. It’s now mid-April. They never did.

I had two more business trips where the same thing happened only with the gate agents upgrading their response to eye rolls and, in the case of the guy at the gate at  DFW two weeks ago, yelling at me.  After he yelled I did what any sensible person would do- I called out @AmericanAir on Twitter. Boy do they respond quickly. They asked me to DM them and give them all of the details. I did . Explanation, screen shots etc. The whole thing. Two weeks later there’s no definitive answer from American Airlines other than I should check in for my next flight, see what happiness and then let them know if I’m not in the correct boarding group.


I don’t understand. You send me emails and post things on your website and then not only don’t follow through with them but don’t seem to care and don’t have a way to fix it. You can send tubes of metal at 500 miles per our whilst 40,000 feet in the air but you can’t manage the relational database behind your passenger profiles?

I don’t need to feel special, I just want you to do what you said you were going to do. I just want you to “hold the reservation.”

photo is my own taken at Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport.



rant, travel

we’re all special to someone

I’ve worked in and around marketing long enough that I understand the fundamental logic behind loyalty and reward programs. There is so much competition in most markets and with most commodities that rewarding people for sticking by you is critical. People like to be rewarded and feel they are part of a bigger tribe. People are also fickle. They’re loyalty can be bought with color coding and insincere gratitude.

Guilty as charged. I’ve done it, you’ve done it and, heck, I bet we’ve all done it at one time or another. I’m more than happy to use my free Marriott wifi and have a drink in the Club Lounge. Even my airport parking earns me a status level that comes with no actual perks or benefits.

I think the worst offender on this, by far,  are the airlines. I was waiting to board a flight between DFW to LaGuardia about a year ago and the fare I booked included Group One boarding. I was afraid I would have to gate check my bag so I was excited I could get to board in an earlier group and be able to secure a coveted overhead bin.

Thirty minutes before departure the gate agent starts the boarding announcements and, Group One boarding pass clutched in hand, I waited for my turn.

Here’s how it went down: First Class passengers and active duty military followed by Executive Platinum, Pro Platinum and then Run-of-the-Mill Platinum. Next, we moved on to Ruby, Sapphire, Diamond, Peridot, Quartz, Sodium Nitrate and a litany of other precious medals and gemstones. After that was exhausted it was time to invite all of the OneWorld Alliance codeshare passengers whose status involved some sort of Bedazzling.  Honestly, I’m quite convinced there aren’t that many combinations of precious metals and gemstones on display at the Tower of London.

Finally, they got to the AAdvantage Tin Foil group. I waited for the gate agent, my boarding pass still clutched in my hand, to call Group One. I felt a bit like Ralphie Parker fantasizing about his essay grade to be called out by the teacher in A Christmas Story.  Instead , she said “All passengers in all groups are invited to board at this time.”  How could this be? I was special that day. I got to board earlier than other passengers. Then I came to the realization that there were only six of us left at the gate.

We were flying a 737-800. American’s configuration of that plane seats 160 people. Turns out 154 of them were more special than me.


rant, service, travel

traveling pants {logic defied}

I was traveling. I bought pants. Then it got crazy.

First, let me be upfront that I know I’m not the demographic of Superdry.  I stumbled upon them last year in Times Square. I didn’t “get it” at the time. Besides, it was damn cold outside and I needed coffee.

Fast forward about a year (to the week, in fact) and I stumbled across their newest US store at Disney Springs. If you’re not familiar with Superdry, here’s how they’ve been described:

A British international branded clothing company, Superdry products combine vintage Americana styling with Japanese inspired graphics.

Yeah, not me. I thought. I had time to kill and a few extra dollars left from my conference per diem. So why not? I wandered through the aisles for about twenty minutes with increasing realization they don’t sell things in “dad size” and beginning to suspect the Japanese text on the clothes probably doesn’t mean anything. [I digress. I do that a lot.]

I found pants. Basically uber-comfy sweatpants. They were on sale. I thought they might be comfortable for an upcoming 15 hour flight when I’m crammed in the back of economy. The sizing is really weird on there clothes so I tried on an XL. They were, much to my delight, a bit too big. I decided to buy the Large. I grabbed a pair off of the shelf that has an L sticker on the folded leg and paid for them.

Two nights later I was back home and unpacking my suitcase. As I was going to pull the tags off of my new globetrotting pants I noticed something awful. Remember that little sticker with the L that I mentioned was on the leg? It was wrong. I had bought an XL- the size that didn’t fit when I tried them on in the store.

So here’s where the breakdown and head shaking starts. Try to keep up.

  • The next day, I logged on to the website and reviewed the return and exchange policy. I dealt entirely with orders that had been placed online.
  • I called the store at Disney Springs and explained what happened. The sales associate explained that I had to call the central customer service number to make the exchange (remember this part, it’s almost funny later).
  • I had to wait to call customer service because they are in the UK, don’t work weekends and have that whole 7 hour time difference.
  • The agent I spoke to told me I had to submit my request by email and provided a top secret email address for me to use.
  • About 36 hours later I received a reply from the customer service folks in the UK telling me I would need to call the store where I bought the pants and work it out with them because the customer service office didn’t have any merchandise in their office so they couldn’t swap them out for me (see, I told you it would be funny later).
  • Always one to follow directions (drips with sarcasm) I called the Disney Springs store the next day and explained what happened. They were confused and didn’t know what to do or how to help me. They gave me the number of a location in Brooklyn that had a warehouse and would be able to exchange my pants.
  • The number didn’t work.
  • I called Disney Springs back. They gave me the number to another NYC store and sent me on my way.
  • I called the NYC store, asked for the manager on duty and went through my entire adventure thus far. He asked why they didn’t have me call the store in LA because it’s closer to me. WTH?!?
  • He does take pity on me and has me text a picture of the pants to him so he can check their inventory. He does, and says I can mail mine to him and he’ll mail back the correct size.
  • I trek out and pack the pants in one of those spiffy free priority mail boxes at the post office. I also enclose a return shipping label and an $11 stamp for return postage (based on the estimate from the self-serve postal kiosk). It costs an additional $15 to to mail everything to NYC plus $3 for the packing tape.

Keep up with all of that? I’ll spare you all of the details about how the package arrived in NYC 3 days ago but no one bothered to tell the manager it was there until I called with proof of receipt yesterday.

I still don’t have my new comfy pants, but that’s not the main point here.

I am completely baffled that it is, by my best guess, 2017. I made a purchase from a company that not only has an e-commerce division but also a supply chain for  brick and mortar stores in several countries. How do they not have a central and efficient return and exchange process? If it’s too hard for you to figure out then just pay Amazon to do it for you like the rest of the world does.

Rant over. Now mail me my damn pants.

April 13 Update: I talked to the NYC store manger last Saturday, April 8th. Today I received a text from him asking what size I needed because they had done inventory and the pants he had set aside for me had been re-shelved. Um, if you had mailed them Monday when you said you would then we wouldn’t be having this convo.

April 22 Update: Still no pants.

Since I’m entrenched on a project at work dealing with open resources I feel obligated to admit the photo above isn’t mine.  Found it in a google search.