Distractions, reflections

David Ing, at large … Sometimes, my mind wanders

Airline bumping, Scandinavian style

Since I have the luxury of travelling to see many countries and different cultures, I often get amused by the small differences that reflect the alternative ways of seeing the world. This story is about a minor event in the Copenhagen airport.

I was flying from Munich to Helsinki via Copenhagen. The Copenhagen airport is attractive with lots of natural wood finishes. It seems quite compact between gates, and connections seem relatively well-organized. I noted a long line queuing up for the Helsinki to Copenhagen flight, and was relaxed to join the end of the line.

A man in an airline uniform was walking down the queue, and stopped by a young man — most probably a student, by his dress and demeanour. The airline attendant said that the flight was quite overbooked, and asked if the young man would be interested in waiting for a guaranteed seat on the next flight with a choice of 75 Euros cash or 200 Euros in flight coupons. The young man chose the former, and was then asked to step out of the line, and wait by the side. This conversation took just a minute, and queue moved on.

In comparison, how would this happen in most American airports? Typically, the airline attendant gets on the public address system and makes an announcement looking for volunteers for a similar offer. Responses by passengers go one of two ways: those who really want to stay on the flight get tense because they’ll want to make sure they have enough seat and baggage space, while those who might consider taking up the offer think about whether they should rush to the counter or not. In either case, although the American style might be judged as “fairer”, it probably introduces more stress to a larger number of travellers than is necessary.

Could airlines in the United States be convinced to change their style of behaviour? Maybe or maybe not. This could be one of those predispositions towards culture practices — like standing on the right side of an escalator to allow the hurried to pass on the left1 — that people don’t really think much about, until it gets mentioned to them.


1This example comes from Charles Spinosa, Fernando Flores and Hubert L. Dreyfus, Disclosing New Worlds, MIT Press, 1999. 

Internet withdrawal by the lake in Austria

The International Federation for Systems Research hosts about 25 people in Fuschl am See, Austria, every other year. I was invited to the meeting two years ago, when the venue had been set as the Seehotel Schlick. Over the two years, I’ve noticed two improvements at the hotel. Firstly, they seemed to have done some sprucing up, with a small but noticeable maintenance (which is probably more than just cleaning). Secondly, the Seehotel Schlick has gotten a fancy web site, done by a professional designer. The photos aren’t misleading, but that’s not to say that every day in Austria has blue skies. (About half our days did).

In 2004, the best that we could do in Fuschl was dial-up access. On one afternoon, arrangements had been made for attendees to get a bus ride into Salzburg, presumably for the opportunity to see sights. DLH and I spent much of the afternoon in an Internet cafe, catching up on e-mail. Going offline for extended periods of time just feels bad.  Unfortunately for the Seehotel Schlick, their Internet access hasn’t improved over the two years.

This year, we heard that up the street, at the Hotel Mohenwirt, high speed Internet access was available. On the first day, three of us took our laptops up at lunchtime. We told the person at the front desk that we had come for lunch and Internet, and she gave us IDs and passwords for an hour, without charge. On the second day, a different front desk clerk said that she was going to charge us, but then gave us the same deal. There must have been six laptops all open on lunch tables that day.

On the third day, on the walk up to the Hotel Mohenwirt, we met some of our group walking down. They said that the policy had changed, and the hotel was charging for Internet access and for lunch. That group decided to walk out in protest. Gary and I decided to just pay for 30 minutes, and then ate somewhere else. The hotel lost some revenue by not bundling its services together.

On the afternoon off, if it wasn’t for the cataract in my eye, I might have taken a bicycle trip around the lake. Diana wouldn’t let me pack the folding bike on this trip, though.

Fall from gold

For the first time, in maybe 15 years, I’ve fallen from the upper level status in frequent flyer programs. Last year, I was Aeroplan Elite (which is Star Alliance Gold). This year, I’m at zero. I’m so low, my Aeroplan card doesn’t even state a level on it!

Diana dropped me off at the airport for my 8 p.m. flight to Munich (on my way to Fuschl am See, Austria, for an IFSR meeting). Since I was late for my flight last fall, I made extra sure this time that I would be early. We arrived at about 5:30 p.m. for an 8:00 p.m. flight. I tried to check in, but the first agent said that I couldn’t be assigned a seat. She said that the equipment was being changed (i.e. one aircraft was being swapped for another), and that my baggage would have to be tagged as standby. Since this is a complication that could result in my luggage being left in Toronto, I declined, and she told me to come back in 20 minutes.

In 15 minutes, I was back in line. The second agent said that there wasn’t an issue with equipment being changed, and I still couldn’t be assigned a seat. My baggage was tagged as standby, and I went through the security check to get to the departure gate. (I normally would have stopped by the Maple Leaf Lounge for soup and sandwiches, but Diana packed dinner for me). At the departure gate, no agent showed up until 7:15 p.m., and then there about 40 people got into line. He told everyone to wait, and he would call them.

At 7:30 p.m., boarding started. At 7:45 p.m., I was one of two persons left sitting in the departure area. The agent finally called my name, and I got my boarding card. I lined up, and was right behind a person with whom the Air Canada agent was saying “Sir, there’s no call for that type of language”. I’m used to flying, so I wasn’t really worried about making it onto the flight, but it’s likely that others aren’t quite as patient.

I flew over in a middle seat of the last row of the second cabin (behind business class), and mostly dozed on the flight. I had my inflatable neck pillow and eye shades, and my feet fit on top of my bag under the seat in front of me. (It pays to be small on trans-oceanic flights). I woke up and caught the end of Aeon Flux — a good time-waster. Some more dozing, and next thing I knew, we were on descent into Munich. My baggage arrived, without drama.

Seat assignments are one of those behind-the-scenes things that work well for frequent flyers. I overheard the check-in agents working their way through the list of premium (full fare) customers, Super Elite and Elite passengers. If I had still been at one of the higher levels, I might have been offered a free upgrade. (The airlines like to fill up business class, because it’s a fixed cost, anyway). Unfortunately, Air Canada doesn’t give points for discount fares within North America anymore, so I’ll have to earn my Elite status on trans-oceanic flights. Since this trip, I’ve been trading stories with others who have lost their gold status, and are saying that they’ve been sent into the last class for boarding, as a penalty for falling from their levels of high status.

Pre-op, and connections to nowhere

In the small window of time before leaving for Europe, I had the pre-op for my cataract surgery scheduled. Since this was the day before an international conference that I’ve been working on for months, it was a busy day.

I find the hospitals, like most public institutions in Canada, to be interesting reminders of citizenship. Generally, the health care professionals are more than capable. Public services are an equalizer. Priorities (e.g. emergencies) are mostly driven by need, rather than social status (i.e. money doesn’t usually help jump the queue). In the best demonstration of Max Weber’s machine bureaucracy , pretty well everyone gets the same level of care and treatment. It’s likely that in the perverse Canadian way, the more a person raises his or her voice, the more he or she will be flagged as someone annoying. (In either the American or French culture, it’s probably a way of “getting noticed”).

The pre-admission facility at St. Michael’s Hospital, from a business perspective, seems pretty well thought out. On the one hand, it provides efficient pre-op services. The patient stays in a little room. Then, a nurse comes to take a medical history, various technicians come through (e.g. the blood technician takes a sample), and a doctor does a physical exam. From a function of bedside manner, however, the facility also seems to be on the path towards reducing anxiety in the patient. There’s a standard video that is played. (I was entertained by the shots of not doing anything requiring motor control on the day of anaesthesia, which not only included driving cars, but also cutting vegetables in the kitchen!) The doctor answers any final questions that the patient may have. I suppose that this is a last opportunity to back out, if the patient has any second thoughts about elective surgery!

One personal downside of the medical system is, though, that western medicine doesn’t seem to recognize Chinese medicine. When I commented about my resting pulse changing from 84 to 60 in the past month, the doctor seemed to think that was normal. He said that a person’s pulse can change walking across the room. This feels a bit too much like denial of symptoms, and a potential blindness in a western philosophy of medicine.

The pre-op took 90 minutes, meaning that I was finished just in time to dial into a teleconference call. I’ve been taking the subway and bus to get to work, and getting on the subway would mean that I would miss much of the conference call. As a tactical decision, I confirmed with the subway fare collector that the College/Carlton/Gerrard streetcar runs to Main Street station on the Danforth line. From the Main Street station, it would be a few subway stops over to Warden, where I connect to the northbound bus. Thus, I could take the streetcar as a wending alternative to the subway, and continue to receive a mobile phone signal.

Thus, I got onto the Yonge Street subway at Queen, and went two stops north to College Street. I dialed into the conference call, and in 10 minutes, the streetcar pulled up. The right route … but a sign in the front said that the streetcar wasn’t following the prescribed route, and would turn south at Parliament and go across to Kingston Road and Victoria Park. Without more information, I decided that moving east was better than not moving at all, so I got on the streetcar.

It was a good idea to be on the conference call — there’s all sorts of minutiae that turns up the day before a conference starts. About 30 minutes later, I was at Kingston Road and Victoria Park. I got off. The streetcar went around a loop and returned westbound. I was still on the teleconference, but there’s no TTC service that connects at that point!

After walking around in circles for 10 minutes, I decided to take a taxi to a subway station. (The conference call went on for another 15 minutes after I got there!)

As a downtowner, we make jokes about being in Scarberia (i.e. the depths of Scarborough), but I usually don’t take the TTC there. This is probably more than I wanted to know about the transit system in Toronto.

Crap towns: British humour?

On my usual pre-travel preparations to somewhere that I’ve never been before, I thought I’d search the Toronto Public Library for some tour books on the UK. I was intrigued by the title Crap Towns: The 50 Worst Places To Live In The UK, published by The Idler.

I’m scheduled to fly from Helsinki into Manchester on the morning of May 6. My friend Martin will be flying from Madrid to Manchester on the evening before, and will stay overnight in an airport hotel. The plan is for Martin to meeting me in the airport arrivals area, and we’ll take the train down to his, in Nottingham. I haven’t been anywhere in the UK except for London, so I asked Martin if there was anything worth seeing in Manchester. His reply was that he thought Manchester was “pretty grim”.

Without a frame of reference, I note that Manchester is listed on the Crap Towns list. Moreover, the comments on Hull aren’t too positive, either. In fact, the publication of the book was noted by the BBC in 2003, provoking some response from Hull as the place selected at the worst on the list. It’s possible that impressions on Hull are outdated — there seems to have been a lot of progress over the past 10 years — or else the development has been localized to the tourist areas. In either case, an update of the list in 2004 moved Hull from the position as worst to become the 19th. Manchester wasn’t on the 2003 list, but made position 40 on the 2004 list.

I take these ratings with a grain of salt, because it seems that only the British would write a book where they would publicize the worst. I assume that this has something to do with their sense of humour. Browsing the list some more, I did note one other place that both Diana and I have been: Slough. We used some frequent stay points, some years ago, for a week at the Slough/Windsor Marriott, which was the nearest hotel available to London when we tried to book. Most days, we would take the shuttle bus from the hotel to Heathrow, and catch the tube for an hour to ride into central London. We did go into Slough one day, to catch a train for a day at Oxford. It wasn’t a bad experience, probably just unremarkable.
I’m visiting the UK to visit at the University of Hull Business School, not primarily for tourism. The university appears to be away from the Hull, i.e. away from the harbour, which may mean something or nothing at all. As an urbanist, I’m interested in cities, both good and bad. Of course, I don’t have to live permanently in any of these places!

Fighting your way out of privilege

While working away on the new online registration feature for the ISSS web site, I was watching our free DVD for the month, which I selected as Beyond the Sea. It’s an entertaining biopic, and it’s always good to watch Kevin Spacey. (He’s influential on the script, following Howard Stern’s mindset to “suspend disbelief”).

One line struck me as particularly true, for middle class parents. In moment with his son, Kevin Spacey (as Bobby Darin) says:

I had to fight my way out of the Bronx, but not nearly as hard as you’ll have to fight to get out of Beverly Hills.

We do have discussions like that around the dinner table, and I’m glad that my kids appreciate how well off their childhoods have been. We had one conversation was about how many of their friends will or won’t be going to university or college because they can or can’t afford it. We’re in a neighbourhood where there are still a lot of immigrant parents, and some are more motivated than others about pushing their kids to post-secondary education.

I’m still an admirer, as well as beneficiary of free university education (even at the graduate school level!) in Finland.

Living in a mixed income neighbourhood has helped (at least) to give our sons some perspective. Studying Mandarin in Beijing is a privilege that we expect will give them even more perspective.

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