The plane truth

Hey pal, can you spare $371 million? I'll pay you back.

You're probably wondering what I want with that kind of green. I'm not gonna lie: I want my own plane, specifically a new Boeing 777.

Now I know what you're saying. Jeff you say, think of how many people we could feed with that kind of money. How many homes we could build. All the college tuitions it could pay for. Yeah yeah, sure sure. In case you haven't read a White House approved news source lately, this is the age of Trump (sorry, I just threw up a little when I typed that). And the new way we're making decisions is "What's in it for me?"

For $371 million, what's in it for me is my own plane.

I've flown commercially for too many years, and frankly, I'm tired of the massive inconvenience of it all. Getting to the airport early. Going through security, even with the TSA express line. Mechanical delays. Crew delays. And two words that should strike terror into the heart of anyone who travels by air: middle seat.

I didn't always want my own plane. However over the past couple years, I've been watching our dipshit president take-off and (unfortunately) land in his own badly painted, ugly jet. Also, the idea of a jumbo jet like Air Force One being fueled and ready to go anytime has always been appealing. But an aircraft doesn't have to be on that scale to trigger my desire for one. Drive to McCarren Airport from the Vegas strip, and you'll go past their private jet tarmac. As Springsteen sings in Cadillac Ranch, there they sit buddy just-a-gleamin' in the sun.

Private jets ready to go on a moment's notice. Or a whim.

I'm all too aware I could avoid the maintenance, cost and headaches of my own jet if I just took NetJet or other private jet sharing services. But I don't for the same reason I've never leased a car. If I'm going to be making a monthly payment on something, at the end I want to own it. (Note to self: check monthly payments on $371 million.)

I suppose there are lots of smaller, starter jets I could have for my first plane. But that would be settling. After all, they don't have a range of 8,700 nautical miles. They can't carry between 350-375 passengers. They don't have larger windows. Or twin-aisles.

You're probably wondering when I'd need to carry 375 people. Well, if you've seen my Facebook page, you know I have more than that many followers. With my brand new 777 they could follow me from the comfort of the coach section.

Buying the jet is the easy decision. There are plenty more to be made. What will the color palette be? Which designer will create the crew uniforms? Who will be the lucky chef who gets to prepare the five-star meals? I'll definitely need to take a few days and think these things through.

I'm not going to give myself a deadline for making the purchase. After all I know it'll take a little time to raise the money. But the second I have it, you'll be able to find me sitting in my favorite position.

Upright and locked.

Sticking the landing

When I freelanced in San Francisco for nine months, I was living in Santa Monica. I'd fly up every Monday morning, and back every Friday night. Occasionally, I'd have to come back a time or two mid-week. What I'm saying is lots of take-offs and landings.

Landings, with all they imply, are a welcome part of any flight. It means the screaming baby in 11B will soon be a thing of the past, you'll be able to take your iPhone off airplane mode and, provided you don't clobber someone taking your carry-on out of the overhead, you'll never have to see, make small talk or apologize to any of these people again.

What I've noticed a lot, especially in the age of discount airlines, is that when landing, a lot of times pilots simply come in hot. They have schedules to make, flight attendants to diddle (make sure they're fastened low and tight across your waist) or another plane to pilot. They're in a hurry to touchdown.

We've all been on that flight where you feel your bones rattle when the plane slams onto the runway, and then a flight attendant blows the dust off some old joke over the P.A. like, "As you may have noticed, we've just dropped into Kennedy."

Rare is a pilot who manages to stick the landing. I was fortunate enough to have one on my flight this morning.

It's family weekend at young Mr. Spielberg's university. So the wife and I hopped JetBlue to the red state to see our boy. When we touched down, it was barely noticeable if you weren't looking out the window and watching the ground come up. The wheels hit the asphalt with a gentle, feather touch. Both of them in sync, making contact at the same time. No loud screech of the rubber hitting the road. No one gear down and then the other. There wasn't a person within earshot who could stop talking about how perfect it was.

So kudos and many thanks to the JetBlue pilot(s) this morning. You gave a cabin full of sleepy, weary travelers a gentle reminder how the talents of a skilled pilot can make getting where you're going much more pleasant.

To everyone who flies, I wish for you what I had today. Happy landings.