Tag: 737

Southwest Buys – The Foxes Worry

I’ve never heard of an acquisition this size with no reduction in force. That’s usually a big reason mergers and acquisitions take place. Maybe I’m missing something?

My first words to Helaine this morning: “Did you hear about Southwest?” Southwest is buying AirTran.

I saw the story while laying in bed trying to avoid starting my day. We are big Southwest customers/fans. This story will impact us at some point.

Though Southwest is the biggest passenger carrier in the U.S. it always operated smaller. It’s tough not to notice more passenger/employee interaction and the ability of line employees to make their own decisions. I don’t want to see that gone.

One of Southwest’s strengths has been its dependence on Boeing 737s. Though they fly a few different 737 models it’s my understanding that using just one type of aircraft added flexibility in maintenance, crewing and scheduling. Southwest used to brag about that.

AirTran has 86 Boeing 717s. These are fine planes, but they’re different. You can’t use 737 parts on a 717 nor a 737 crew! That’s less, not more flexibility.

Beyond that the more I read the better this sounds. Flightglobal.com reports:

Southwest CEO Gary Kelly said the carrier has decided it wants to keep and operate the 717, and will operate the smaller aircraft in a single 117-seat configuration. Currently AirTran operates its 117-seat 717s in a dual class offering.

No math necessary. Removing first class and maintaining an identical seat count means more leg room in coach!

When it comes to bag fees, change fees and assigned seating Southwest says,

  • Upon full integration, it is our intent to have a consistent product offering. It is our intent that the bag fees would not be part of that product.
  • Upon full integration, it is our intent to have a consistent product offering. It is our intent that the change fees would not be part of that product.
  • Upon full integration, it is our intent to have a consistent product offering. It is our intent that seat assignments would not be part of that product.

It looks like Southwest wants AirTran’s culture absorbed into theirs. Easier said than done. People are people. No one likes change. Someone will feel slighted. Employee discontent spreads more quickly than the common cold! Wanting and accomplishing aren’t necessarily linked.

As mergers go I’m pretty happy. AirTran opens Southwest to loads of new cities with very little overlap, like Atlanta.

AirTran serves 38 airports not served by Southwest and Southwest serves 37 airports that AirTran does not serve.

Southwest says this will be a ‘fleet neutral’ acquisition. They’ll still need all the planes and crews.

I’ve never heard of an acquisition this size with no reduction in force. That’s usually a big reason mergers and acquisitions take place. Maybe I’m missing something? We’ll see.

The Devil at 37,000 Feet

Amazingly, the very instruments that should make flying safer brought these two planes to the same point in the sky with an accuracy no human could achieve.

legacy-600.jpgBack in September 2006 I read about an air crash between a Brazilian 737 and an Embraer Legacy 600–an American registered business jet. It happened at 37,000 over the jungles of Northern Brazil. The 737 spiraled to the ground killing all aboard while the biz jet landed safely.

What made the story more interesting was the presence of Joe Sharkey, who writes about travel and aviation for the New York Times and ended up writing about the crash. And then I forgot about it.

I’ve just read a more detailed account of what actually happened in Vanity Fair. This is a long article, but if you have any interest in aviation it’s a must read.

Amazingly, the very instruments that should make flying safer brought these two planes to the same point in the sky with an accuracy no human could achieve.

Plane Talk About The Flight Home

We’re on our way home from Las Vegas. I’m typing this from 39,000 feet somewhere over the vast void that is the middle of America.

Helaine obtained a late checkout, so we left the hotel at 2:30, heading first to refill the rental car and then return it to the “Giant Rental Car Building,” newly opened south of the airport. All the car rental companies share this facility and the shuttle buses that leave every few minutes. This part of the experience, coming and going, was painless.

Oh – there is one thing. Our car had Sirius Satellite Radio. We discovered that sometime around day five and quite by accident. Since Dollar pays for it, and I wanted to use it, you’d think there would have been a placard or sticker advertising its availability. Even when I hit the right button (by mistake) there was only a hint of what I’d unlocked.

We did get to hear a little Nina Blackwood, Martha Quinn, Mark Goodman and former Philly favorite, Michael Tierson. I always had a thing for Martha.

Sunday afternoon at McCarren Airport is a medley of your favorite lines. We stood in line to get our baggage weighed and tagged. We stood in line for security. Helaine stood in line for food. And, of course, we sat in line to get our choice of seats on the plane.

AMAZING, BUT TRUE STORY ALERT: As we checked in, the agent asked for our heaviest bag first. On the scale it went. Southwest only allows (in my family the word ‘only’ must be included) 50 pounds per bag. The bag weighed 49.95 pounds! When the agent put the tag on the bag, the weight rose to exactly 50.00 pounds. None of us had ever seen anything like it.

This was probably the last time we’ll be sitting on the floor, holding our place in line, in the Southwest terminal. Next month they unveil a new, modified boarding system which will reward those who are anal retentive and get their boarding passes within the first few minutes after they become available. The punctual will then get their choice of the best seats!

From the cockpit, this is the pilot.” How many times do you want to hear those words on a flight?

Why ask?

We wanted to sleep. He wanted to speak. “Folks, it’s going to be bumpy over the Rockies.” “Folks, we’re over the Rockies and it’s bumpy.” “Folks we’re passed the Rockies and I’m turning off the seat belt sign.”

There were a few more announcements. I forget exactly what they were, except Iowa City was off to the left during one and “we’re over Chicago,” on the other. The “peddling as fast as we can” line was only funny the first time.

Considering the hour of this flight, I’m surprised the cabin lights were never dimmed. Though, with chatterbox driving, the point was probably moot.

Our flight left Las Vegas 45 minutes late. The plane was there on time, but we waited for connecting passengers from Oakland. Having been on the receiving end of that kind of largess in the past, I didn’t mind being on the giving side tonight.

All Southwest flights are in 737s. It’s funny how times have changed, because Southwest now uses that as a selling point in its ads. You never fly in a little plane on Southwest. A few years ago, when the domestic carriers used wide bodied jets of many more routes, Southwest’s claim would have been laughed off the TV. Now, when the alternative is a 30, 40 or 50 seat regional jet, Southwest has a point.

I have spent much of the last few hours trying to figure out a way to allow fully reclining seats on a 737. Maybe if you remove the overhead bins and create an upper-lower configuration for the seats? There’s got to be a way, and whichever airline does it first, wins.

It’s 1:00 AM now. We’re still in the air. Will there even be baggage handlers when we arrive?

I so want to go to sleep.

Back To The Sunshine State

I’m writing this while on my way to Florida – again. This time it’s with Helaine and Stef, and this time it’s a more pleasant occasion – my mom’s birthday.

Because of where Steffie goes to school and because you can fly to West Palm Beach non-stop, we’ve opted to fly from Islip’s MacArthur Airport on Lawn Guyland.

This is an interesting airport in an interesting place. It is hemmed in on all sides by the sprawl that Long Island’s become. In that way, there are similarities to Midway Airport in Chicago.

We found our way to the remote long term parking, right on the airport grounds, and waited no more than a minute for the shuttle. The terminal was another minute or two away.

From a distance the terminal looked large. That perspective remained as we pulled up, except now it reminded me of the airport in Rockford, IL.

Stick with me on this.

In Rockford, the airport is large, but usage is not. Same here. Judging by the TV screens, nearly all the flights are operated by Southwest. The few USAir and Delta flights smelled of commuter plane routes. This is an airport where 737’s share the taxiways with Cessna 150s.

As we pulled away from the gate, I saw all six Terminal A gates and jetways. They were all vacant. It’s a shame (though nearby Islip residents might not agree with me on that).

Our flight headed southwest down Runway 24, took off and turned east. We flew over the center of Long Island. Off to the south was Fire Island. North was Long Island Sound and Connecticut.

I don’t know that much about Long Island landmarks, but I was able to pick out Brookhaven Airport, an abandoned Naval airfield and Gabreski Airport in Westhampton Beach before we turned south, heading over the Atlantic in the general direction of Florida.

The flight was a non-event until the last few minutes. With towering thunderstorm clouds on either side of the plane, the pilot came on the PA. The rest of the flight was going to be “very bumpy.”

Ding.

On went the seatbelt signs. The flight attendants were asked to take their seats. We headed down.

It wasn’t as bad as the pilot let on. It wasn’t too smooth either. We landed 15 minutes early.

It’s nice to see my folks, even though it’s only been a few days since I last saw them. Florida, as it turns out, has changed. It’s much more humid. Much.

For dinner tonight, we headed south to Boca Raton and a place called Stir Crazy. I forgot to bring “Clicky.” A shame, because this was a very photogenic place.

Basically, you choose your protein and vegetables and then watch as your dinner is stir fried while you stand and watch. Pretty cool. Very tasty.

I’m bushed.

Good Morning From Los Angeles

The sun is shining through high, thin clouds, as we begin our day in Los Angeles. The curtains in our hotel room are parted, so we can see plane after plane after plane on final for LAX.

When last I wrote, we were waiting to leave Baltimore. As with our first flight, I had a Southwest “A” boarding pass while Helaine and Stef had “B”s. I got on the plane first to look for three seats together. Usually, I can get close to the front with an “A”, but on this ISP-BWI-LAX-SAC flight, with many Islip passengers already seated, I could get no closer than row 15.

Who cares? A seat is a seat. We got 15 D-E-F. A couple with two small children slid into 15 A-B-C.

He started crying as the gear went up. He cried for much of the flight. As soon as the other babies on board heard him, they too began to cry.

Maybe cry isn’t the right word. They screamed as if being tortured. I can make that analogy because I was being tortured.

BWI to LAX is a long flight in a 737 with no entertainment, no food and really loud babies.

Helaine had bought me “Inside the Richest Poker Game of All Time,” by Michael Craig. I started it as we took off and finished it as the lights of LA showed beneath the plane. It was good, not great.

Much of the flight was fine… until we got to the Rockies. From there until the West Coast it was rough road with the seat belt signs lit.

The ‘best’ didn’t come until we landed.

First, we sat on the runway for 10-15 minutes. They were waiting for the last possible available gate (and found it).

Baggage claim was like a suburb of Hell! I don’t think I’ve ever seen Southwest with a facility like this. There were two baggage carousels and an announcement saying flight numbers would be posted above each. Both monitors were blank.

After a while a voice came on the PA saying the bag would come where the bags would come – honest. Don’t ask us – honest. Just keep looking – honest.

The curb area at LAX was disorganize chaos. Cars, buses and vans were darting in and out. Horns honked. We made our way to the “RED” sign, where hotel courtesy vans stopped.

The hotel was just a few minutes away, and was very nice. Again, we had booked on Hotwire.com and gotten what seemed like a good deal.

This Westin is a step up from last night’s Holiday Inn. There is art work on the wall and a nice desk area. The beds were soft and firm (it is possible to be both). Even with airplanes flying nearby, it was reasonably quiet – somewhat like the sound the volcano makes in your room at the Mirage.

There are barking dogs we’re hearing. It’s possible this industrialized neighborhood is where the animal shelter is located. Most likely they’re working dogs for the TSA, Customs or other governmental agency.

Both Helaine and Steffie say if they ever look the way they look under the bathroom lightning, shoot them.

As soon as we’re all dressed, it’s off to the pier and onto our ship. We are so lucky to be here. So lucky, even with our extra day on the road, it all worked out.

If we would have stuck to our reservations, we’d be in the crying lane right now.

Being Stranded Is Different

Friday, while waiting in Las Vegas for our delayed flight to Hartford, I tracked the plane using my laptop computer. Las Vegas, like many airports has wireless Internet access&#185.

As our 737 made its way from Reno, I wondered how this access to up-to-date knowledge affects the airlines?

Years ago they could, and did, lie about flight status. That was especially true during the days when they were more worried about passengers retreating to another carrier for an earlier departure. With severe penalties for itinerary changes, we can’t do that anymore.

Not only can I find the actual airplane, I can also see the latest aviation weather (forecast and observed) and any air traffic control delays or ground stops.

Today, there’s no need to suffer in silence at the airport. With a PC or cameraphone you can get the word out to the world. I know this as a fact because I’ve just heard from my friend Bob.

Bob is flying to Talahassee, FL from Penn State. Well, he was flying. Awful weather has stranded him, and others, at the Atlanta Airport. He’s not sleeping yet, but his sneakers are off.

Are passsengers forced to sleep on the floor in the terminal? Judge for yourself. The image isn’t the best, but it makes the point.

In case you’re wondering, at 3:30 AM on a night like this with passengers all over the floor of the terminal, the PA announcements still get made, loudly apologizing every twenty minutes that the hotels are sold out!

Of course with wireless Internet access it’s possible to check and make sure they’re not lying about the hotel situation. Sleep tight.

&#185 – Access was free in Hartford and Las Vegas, but $9.95 for the day from “T-Mobile” at Bob Hope Airport in Burbank.

Greetings From California

I’m writing from 30 some odd thousand feet. I have no idea where we are, sitting in the aisle seat with the window shades to my left pulled down.

Stef saw what I wrote and pulled up the shade. We’re over mountains – probably the Rockies… possibly the Bullwinkles&#185.

Our exit from Connecticut was uneventful. Well, nearly uneventful. Over the past few days a low, throaty whir has been coming from somewhere in the rear of the Explorer. I drove it to Steve at the Exxon station. What an ear! Twenty seconds of driving to hear, “Wheel bearing. Left rear wheel. It could last another 50,000 miles.” But, would it last to Bradley Airport and back? “Yes.”

We headed to the airport… heading to the long term lot where we’ve parked for better than 15 years. AAA gives discount coupons, and it’s a really good deal.

When we got there a man with a walkie talkie was standing out front and the entrance was blocked. Full! We’d never seen that before. We went to their self park lot in the back. This would mean a cold car, covered in snow if it snows, on pickup. Life goes on.

I think we’re really close to the quarter ton goal with baggage. We checked 6, rolled 2 as carry ons and had a few random shoulder bags. The driver of the van to the terminal felt it necessary to ask how long we were staying.

I tipped him anyway.

Though the parking lot was full, the Southwest portion on the terminal was empty. Three people were behind the counter and we were the only ones needing help. I had printed pour boarding passes just after midnight, getting us “A” passes which got us on the plane in the first wave. Helaine handed them to the agent and got our baggage tags. Then it was time for me to drag, roll and push them to the TSA agents.

Even with a large load like this it no longer makes sense to use a skycap. There are too many steps, and the bags are yours to push far too soon for his help to be worthwhile.

We moved on to security screening. As we got there a sweet, white haired woman was having her sneakers removed by a rubber gloved officer. I’m not law enforcement savvy, but she didn’t seem like much of a threat to me.

My camera bag got the twice over and, of course, Helaine got the thrice over. I’m not sure what she’s done to upset the powers that be, but she is nearly always singled out for additional scrutiny.

While Helaine’s inspection continued, I noticed a Connecticut State Trooper on a Segway. I think it’s a good idea… but then I saw another trooper on a bike. Even in the terminal, I suspect the bike is faster… and the trooper gets more fit.

The flight from Hartford to Las Vegas was 5:50. That is too long to be in an airplane without entertainment. It was, by far, the noisiest flight I’ve ever been on. Not the plane – the passengers. I guess that’s part and parcel of going to Vegas. You get in that party mood as early as possible.

Our layover in Las Vegas was around an hour. Helaine and Steffie went to Burger King and brought a Whopper back for me. There is free Internet access at McCarren Airport, but my battery was down to a few minutes, so I checked my mail, sent some cryptic responses and ate my burger.

Las Vegas to Burbank is a much easier trip – about an hour gate to gate.

Bob Hope Airport in Burbank is like a throwback to an older time. That’s not to say it’s quaint and pretty, because it isn’t. It’s an airport that’s bursting at the seams. It’s also the first time in years that I deplaned using air stairs! Southwest unloaded the passengers through both the front and rear stairs of the 737.

We chose Burbank because we had heard it was much smaller and easier to get around in than LAX. That was absolutely true. The baggage claim is in a covered, though open air area. Thank heavens the heavy winter rains are over! Aren’t they?

Because we’re bringing enough baggage to stay permanently, should we choose, we rented an SUV. We got a white Chevy Trail Blazer from Alamo. Nice deal. Nice car. It feels bigger and heavier than our Explorer.

The drive to our hotel was uneventful… and now as Helaine and Stef unpack, I’m typing this. I guess I’d better stop and help. More tomorrow from Southern California.

Meanwhile, a little look off our west facing balcony. I believe that’s Santa Monica in the distance.

&#185 – Sorry. Unavoidable.

Greetings from Boynton Beach

I have arrived – and it’s warm! What more could you ask for? Considering what I saw when I walked out the door today, Florida is especially nice.

Getting to Florida today was much easier than I ever imagined. First, the snow was over early and there really wasn’t all that much of it. Second, the roads were in good shape. Third, the airport was in good shape. Fourth, Southwest – excellent.

My flight was scheduled to leave at 12:15 PM. On the way to the airport my pocket started vibrating. It was a text message on my cellphone from Southwest. The flight was on time and would be leaving from Gate 2.

Helaine pulled up at the brand new terminal at Bradley International. Compared to the old “bus terminal” it is phenomenal. But, it’s still pretty sterile with too much wasted vertical space to suit me. However, remember what it was before!

Gate 2 is pretty close. I got there early enough to watch a flight to Orlando board and leave.

Let me add here that the Bradley Airport experience would be greatly improved with the addition of Cinnabon. If there’s one in the new terminal, I didn’t find it. Cinnabon is required eating for air travel in the new century.

I struck up a conversation with the gate agent. It looked like the flight would be 2/3 full. So, even though I had a “B” boarding pass (no assigned seats on Southwest) I was in no hurry. As it turned out, I had a full three seat cluster and slept for about an hour. Unlike some other airlines, the Southwest seatbelts stowed nicely out of the way for comfortable sleeping in the airborn fetal postion.

The plane was nice. Southwest flies 737’s and nothing else. There are different model and configurations, but they’re all 737’s. The seats were leather and firm. The plane looked clean, though it was 8 years old. It’s tough to judge legroom and seat width when you’re all alone, but both seemed adequate.

The flight to Tampa was fine. There was a little light turbulence, but it only helped put me to sleep.

After waking up, I struck up a conversation with a flight attendant. The first thing I told her was the first thing I noticed – the Southwest attitude. Everyone was friendly. Everyone was happy. I know this is an overstatement. Even in the best of jobs there are people who are upset, or hate the boss, or feel overlooked and overworked. Still, the aura was there. As someone who’s flown mostly United and USAirways over the last few years (two airlines in financial troubles with labor unrest) it was easy to pick up the vibe.

I had planned on watching a lecture for my Synoptic Meteorology class, but after 7:30 minutes I pulled out the GPS receiver and watched our progress instead.

It was a ‘nerdy cool’, seeing the map and our position, then looking out the window and seeing everything where it was supposed to be. Where I-75 bent on the map, it bent in real life. Lakes and streams were positioned correctly.

We landed in Tampa about 20 minutes early. One of the flight attendants joked on the P.A., “You tell your friends when we’re late. Let them know we were early.” And now I have.

The early arrival added to the ground time in Tampa. I sat on an arm rest and talked with a Connecticut couple and their 21 year old twin daughters. They were on their way to Key West. The dad was a dead ringer for John Goodman, though I didn’t want to say anything, in case he had seen King Ralph or hated Goodman for other more cryptic and sinister reasons.

The door to the cockpit was open, and I asked the flight attendant if I might go up and take some photos. When I got their, the co-pilot had left the cockpit, so I schmoozed with the pilot who asked me if I wanted to sit down. Then he took my picture, at the controls. OK – we were at the gate, but still… It’s a guy thing. I can’t explain it.

The plane was around 1/4 full when we took off for the short run to West Palm Beach. As we headed skyward I studied what looked like cirrus clouds. Closer inspection leads me to believe it was a massive cluster of jet contrails which, in the nearly calm Florida atmosphere, slowly atrophied as it expanded.

My folks were waiting at PBI. They look great. Florida living is life extension. They have a great time and live the best lifestyle they’ve ever had. As I get older, this type of retirement life seems more enticing.

I knew a friend from high school, Ralph Press, was now living in South Florida, so I gave him a call and asked him over for dinner. Though his car was seriously smoking from the engine compartment when he got here, the rest of the journey seemed uneventful.

Ralph looks exactly the same as I remember him. Of course, he’s a lot older – that’s a given. But many people radically change as they age. Ralph has not.

We had dinner and worked on my parents wireless computer network. The network seems to be working except with my laptop. And, the laptop is giving me an error message I’ve never seen before. I have some CAT5 cable, so it’s not a major deal. I can plug-in. But, I will obsess until I fix it and go wireless again.