Thirty Days in McCains America: Day One

At approximately 8:00 a.m. today, I left the comfort of my blue state and embarked on the social experiment I've dubbed "30 days in McCain's America." It's not exactly a Morgan Spurlock adventure, seeing as I grew up in McCain's America. Of course, back in the day it was Nixon/Ford's America. But I digress...

I figured the only way to embark on a journey to McCain's America was to go first class (seeing as how I haven't a Lear jet at my disposal.) I suppose I should mention that I lucked into said first class ticket by booking with a frequent flyer back in July.

Before I even boarded the plane, my attitude shifted. I caught myself thinking, "Isn't there a FIRST CLASS security line? I have to wait here with all these COACH people?" But it wasn't until I sunk into my big, plush leather seat–with more leg room than short people like me could ever need–that I thought, "As God is my witness, I will never fly coach again."

And then there was the food. Apparently it's still free in first class. Hot food even. How long has it been since I've seen that? I'm sad to say I had to pass on the food seeing as I'd gone with my coach instincts and bought a pre-flight muffin at Tully's.

Did I mention that my seat was stocked with 1. a pillow 2. a blanket 3. headphones 4. a wee bottle of water and 5. a masseuse? Ok, no masseuse, but there's an idea to pass along to Delta. How about some vibrating chair action? I mean it IS supposed to be first class!

In first class, one is trusted with actual glassware. You wouldn't think a plain old glass could be a perk (it wasn't even cute). But when you've suffered with plastic all these years and then are offered actual glass, Hoo Boy!

It may have been my imagination, but I believe there were two attendants assigned to first class. That 7:1 ratio sure beats the 582:1 in the seats behind the curtain.

Not to belabor the point (but I suppose it's too late), the lavatories had hardwood floors. Probably fake hardwood, but still. Which lead me to think, "What is that ruffian from COACH doing in the FIRST CLASS lavatory?" And yes, I actually thought "lavatory."

The nadir of the experience was realizing that first class luggage is delivered at the same baggage claim (and in the same slow-ass manner) as everyone else's. Although in the end I was delighted to discover that I'd made it through Atlanta without losing luggage. Another incredible first!

All this falls into my theory that you never quite understand how bad something is until something far better comes along. Don't get me wrong. I am well aware that coach sucks and manages to get worse every time I fly. But now that I've tasted the free margarita (in glass glass!), something tells me I will never again be excited by the windfall WHOLE CAN of coke again. Sigh.

p.s. Holy crap! I forgot to mention the hot towel service before the meal. Seriously.

p.s. #2: I apologize to readers who are already familiar with all the comforts of first class. You know, those of you who were wondering, "What is that girl in the stained Uggs doing up here with US?"