Christian Schneider

Author, Columnist

Plane Old Jokes

I spent last weekend in Washington, D.C. at the Defending the American Dream Summit put on every year by the national  chapter of Americans for Prosperity.  Which means I was on planes a lot.  Fortunately for me, I was able to catch a direct flight back to Madison from Reagan National Airport – a flight which I didn’t even know existed.  But there were glitches.

It was one of these shuttle planes, which are smaller than the big 747s, or whatever.  It turns out that I had the aisle seat in the front row of the plane.  As one old woman walked through the door to get on the plane, she turned to the flight attendant and said, loudly,  “THIS LITTLE PLANE IS GOING ALL THE WAY TO MADISON?”

Later in the flight, I joked with Courtney, the flight attendant, about that lady getting on the plane – as if this old woman expected the plane to have a lawn mower engine in it or something.  Courtney said “yeah, I should totally have said ‘I’m always SO surprised when we make it there!'”

(Side note:  The first seat on the plane is really awkward, since the flight attendant is sitting two feet in front of you, facing you.  You really have to go out of your way to not look at her.  So I decided to chat with her a little.  And that’s my excuse.)

When everyone was on board, my girl Courtney came over and asked me if I would do her a favor.  I said “sure,” without knowing what this “favor” would be.  She said she needed me to go sit in the back of the plane TO BALANCE THE PLANE OUT. This was not reassuring.  How could my body weight balance out a plane with 50 people on it?

I said I’d do it, so I stood up and said “are you calling me fat?”  Laughs were had by the people at the front of the plane at my joke.  Then, I realized this was a captive audience.  They couldn’t go anywhere. I should totally start hijacking planes just to get people to listen to my bad jokes.  I’d be arrested for bombing on a plane without actually having any explosives on me.

For my cooperation, Courtney actually gave me an extra bag of peanuts.  This was meaningful to me, for an episode that occurred on the way to D.C.

On my flight from Cincinnati to D.C., I sat behind Mike Huckabee.  (I tweeted that I hoped Huckabee being on the plane didn\’t mean that God was our co-pilot.  I much prefer a licensed human being steering the plane.)  When it came time to get our peanuts, the flight attendant gave Huckabee THREE BAGS of peanuts.  I only got one.  I was outraged.

So, apparently, all you have to do to get the star treatment on a Delta flight is to run for President.  I might begin my candidacy for 2012 right now if it means I can get the whole can of Coke instead of those little 3 ounce cups they give you.  So I know Huckabee gives of this “regular guy” vibe, but h\’s clearly soaking in all the accoutrements of stardom, including bonus snacks.

(SIDE NOTE: While waiting for my flight back out to Madison, I saw Rahm Emanuel de-plane, flanked by a parade of secret service guys.  Which made me think that if I’m ever important, I would much rather choose to be accompanied by Victoria’s Secret Service.

1 Comment

  1. Can I be your campaign manager? Having a Victoria’s Secret Service escort is appealing.

    Seriously, small planes are far more sensitive to center-of-gravity issues than big ones. The location of 175 pounds does make a difference on puddle-jumpers.

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