MY URBAN KVETCH

Hanukkah at the White House: Debriefing & FAQ

Look! It's my head, and the Obamas, at the White House! (December 9)

I was beyond honored to have been invited to the White House on December 9 to celebrate the holiday of Hanukkah (#WHHanukkah) with Jewish movers and shakers from across the country at a party and ceremony hosted by President Barack Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama. (You can read more about the two parties - I was at the later one - here in Jewish Insider, and read my full, napkin-laden report here in the Jewish Journal. And watch this video uploaded by Jason Miller.)

In advance of my departure for DC, I asked my friends: was there anything they wanted to know about the experience? Here are some of those questions and the answers, divided into three categories: Latkes and other food-related questions, POTUS & FLOTUS, and miscellaneous.

Latkes and other food-related questions

How are the latkes? Is the president having apple sauce with his latkes? Sour cream? Sugar? But really, how are the latkes? Does the DC water make it like NY water does for pizza? How many latkes did you think you'd eat and how many did you really eat? I am really curious if there is kosher caviar and good Russian toppings for the latkes. 

I'm hearing that some of you are curious about the latkes. The President didn't really eat with us, or open the event to a Q & A , so I don't know his personal preference, but there were latkes. They were small, almost like cocktail latkes, and tasted a little sweeter than expected. I probably ate four of them. Caviar isn't on my radar, so if it was there, I didn't notice it. And because it was a meat meal, there was applesauce, not sour cream. But if it satisfies your Yiddish curiosity, POTUS pronounces "latkes" more like "laat-kissss."

How are the sufganiyot?

Absent. At least I didn't see any. I took what I thought might be a sufganiya, but it turned out to be a mini-baked apple. Very delicious by the way, but not a  jelly donut. 

iLost and iFound: A Mother's Day Tale

In case I lose it again, this is what it looks like. :)

The short story: I lost my phone on the way to the gym. And then I used Find My iPhone and Facebook to find it, in about an hour. And now, I’ve been reunited with my phone. So if that’s all you care about, you can stop reading now. It’s all good.

But there’s also a longer story, with elements that are a little murkier than that three-sentence process. If you ask me, the longer story has more of an emotional impact than the shorter story does. Because it was Mother’s Day. Because I had just spent some quality time with one of my brothers and we talked a lot about our late mother. Because the night before, I dreamed about my mother. Because this is a time when I spend weeks at a time thinking about my mother, her physical absence, her spectral presence, her echoes, her impact.

Yesterday, I left my apartment, phone in handbag, heading to the gym. Although I usually park in my driveway (and drive on a parkway), I had parked on the street overnight, saving the driveway spot for my brother’s rental car. An old, beat-up almost-station wagon of a car was blocking me. I noted the handicapped tag hanging from the rearview mirror; while the driver spoke minimal English, I managed to convey to him that if he moved his car, I could give him the spot, and he complied.

By the time I got to the gym, my phone was missing. I searched my bag, checked my car, and found nothing. I went home, figuring I must have left it in one of my mansion’s MANY rooms. After I finished checking the servants’ quarters, I concluded that my phone was not in my house.

iActivated “Find my iPhone” from iCloud. Last location was at my address. Maybe it was in my car? iChecked my whole car, but no iPhone was iFound. iChecked iCloud again and saw that my phone was on the move, slightly north of where iLived, then across Pico heading toward Whitworth. I could track it as long as I had internet – but I didn’t have internet outside of my apartment…how was I supposed to chase my phone without my phone?

As I often do when faced with a problem I can’t solve, I took to Facebook, notifying the masses (a.k.a., anyone who wasn’t at a Mother’s Day dinner) that my phone was out there in the ether and that people should keep an eye open for it. A ridiculous instruction, I thought, but why not put it out there in the universe….

Finally, iCloud informed me that my phone had been “found” at 1217 Wooster Street. I jumped in the car and tried to find 1217 Wooster – it turned out to be just north of Pico, except nonexistent – where 1217 should have been was the Fu’s Palace parking lot. Was it inside? I asked the waitstaff and they said no. I wandered back out to the parking lot and looked around. No giant neon sign reading “YOUR PHONE IS HERE!” or person waving my phone around hoping I’d see them. Just a parking lot.

“Well, what do I do now?” I asked out loud.

Just then, a car rolled into the parking lot, an old, beat-up almost-station wagon of a car, with a handicapped tag hanging from the rearview mirror.I generally don’t remember cars. But thanks to a mother who spent a lot of time in a wheelchair, I remember handicap tags.

I poked my head into the car's open window and asked the man if he’d found a phone. “No,” he said. My heart dropped. Then he paused, and said, “phone, YES!” He communicated that it was inside with his wife and that he’d call her. She came out of the building – the family was going to Ohel Moshe for an event or a Mother’s Day dinner or something – my phone in her hands. I gushed gratitude, not believing that from "lost" to "found" had taken less than an hour.

As I left the parking lot, friend and Pilates teacher Andrea Hodos appeared. “Did you get the phone?” she asked. She explained that in response to my Facebook message, she called my phone and had spoken to the people who had picked it up. She knew where they were and was going to get the phone from them. So, even if my plea to the heavens hadn’t worked, my plea on Facebook would have.

Obviously, I burst into tears, once as Andrea hugged me and then again in my car before driving home. When I arrived at my apartment, I saw that all the electronic devices were blinking…there’d been some sort of power outage during the hour that my phone was lost.

None of it means anything, of course. Unless I start drawing lines of connection. The dream. The parking. The fact that this whole lost phone thing meant that I cleaned out my car and straightened up some things at home, something my mother would have considered a Mother’s Day present, for sure. The fact that it took both technology and people to bring this episode to a close. That my post resulted in Facebook comments from friends trying to help my situation and lift my spirits, reinforcing that what happens online can have real-life positive impact. That a loss of something of technological and social value coincided with a loss of power and control.

Like I said, it doesn’t mean anything. Except to me.

 

Related articles

How to Recover iPhone Contacts

Writer/Producer Gideon Raff (Hatufim, Homeland, Tyrant, Dig) in Federation Q & A

What Do You Regret?: A High Holidays Reflection

Everyone has something they regret. (image via http://techneur.com/post/2315611963/regret-minimization-framework)

"It's the season of spiritual inventory and self-reflection. What do you regret? What aching, burning yearning or deep guilt has trailed you for years? Be brave. Reflect & write."

 

And with this writing prompt, IKAR asked members - as they do every year - to reflect on the year gone by, and submit personal stories on a particular theme; these essays and paragraphs are then published in a book distributed at IKAR during the High Holidays, providing an additional opportunity for congregants to connect with renewal, repentance and change. In 2011, it was Epiphany. In 2012, it was Courage and Cowardice. I missed participating last year. And this year, IKAR members were asked to tackle the subject of Regret.  My submission is below. Wishing you all a reflective, inspiring, healthy and peaceful new year. 

 

Regret is a trap. You regret things you've done, or according to the adage, you mostly regret the things you don't do, the possibilities that came your way but which you were too scared, cautious, or irresponsible to pursue. But if my regret had a Facebook relationship status, it would be a solid "it's complicated." 

 

I regret things I have done and things I haven't done, words I have said, and words I haven't said. I regret trusting too much and not trusting enough. In alternating dramatic moments, I regret nothing - I am staunch, resolute and strong; and I regret everything - I am ashamed, humble and penitent. 

 

Communally, we catalogue our annual regrets in the language of liturgy, in rituals meant to mimic release - of guilt, anger, sin and regret. But as we stand at the bank, we pitch our iniquities into water, watching waves carry them forward toward a horizon. But it's not long before those same waves return sins to sender; the crumbs land at our feet, nudging at our toes, saying "your sins have been returned for additional processing." This is the way of waves. 

 

Regret is that same trap, the surf that ebbs and flows, always receding and always returning. We can let the regret possess us, control our past guilt, obsess our thoughts in the coming year. Or we can let it guide, instruct, but not dominate what we do from here on in. As the musical says, "forget regret, or life is yours to miss."

 

Like I said, it's complicated.

Connecting to Community & Comfort: My ELITalks on-Air

I've been writing for decades now - on everything from pop culture to single life to grief - so what have I learned about writing and vulnerability, authenticity and the power of personal narrative? 

Last week I did an ELI Talks on Air - a conversation with See3's Lisa Colton about my writing and connections to community - covering a flashback to my Jewish Week singles days, how I feel about clicking "publish," and what kinds of grief communities have been helpful to me (shoutouts to Modern Loss & The Dinner Party around 17 minutes in). Plus a preview of the content for my book-in-progress, "Nothing Helps (But This Might Help): A Guide to Loss and What Comes After." (And yes, I cry a little. But that's ok. Because I also invented a new Google Glass style product.)

Other highlights from the conversation (full video embedded below):

• At the 8:20 mark, we talk the role of authenticity in connecting to people online, in person and in writing;
• Around 30 minutes in, we field a question about why synagogues have such trouble engaging singles;
• We talk the post-shiva grief role of community and the connections between individuals and their Jewish community around 33 minutes in;
• About 36 minutes in, I talk about the silence that follows the flurry of comforting activity of the funeral and shiva;
• Does the processing of all of this online and in writing impede the process of moving on? We talk about this around the 40-minute mark.
• 42:00 or so has one of my favorite lines, if I do say so myself: "If someone hates you and thinks you're a racist, they'll tell you, but if they really enjoy your piece, you might not hear about it. That's the sad truth of being a writer."
• At the 43 minute mark, I literally use the phrase "drop the mic and leave."
• At 44:15, Lisa and I talk about the concept of Facebook as a living memorial that's perhaps more meaningful than leaving a rock on the gravestone, which gave me the chance to talk about Dave Burnett, z"l, and his Facebook wall.

Thanks to ELI Talks for hosting me - tune into elitalks.org weekly for live conversations with interesting people, and check out their produced TED-style talks at elitalks.org or on their YouTube channel.

Related articles

The One That Saves Me - in memory of Dave Burnett, z"l

Comforting a mourner: Shiva wimps and heroes

Mother's Day Posts Even/Especially a Non-Mother Could Love

So is my mom in the 7%? And if not, can you connect us, Skype?

Three years after losing my mother, I'm beginning to gain some perspective.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still devastated at my mother's absence and irritated by the onslaught of media messaging. And while I appreciate the sentiment, Skype telling me to call my mom on Mother's Day is a bit much - unless they actually can connect us, in which case, a resounding "yes" and "my bad for calling you out."

But halfway through Mother's Day here on the West Coast, I'm encouraged by the variety of posts I'm seeing - primarily on Facebook, but in other media outlets as well (see some interesting links below) - that indicate love for mothers past and present, hopes for future maternal roles, and the acknowledgement that although this holiday is an invented Hallmark one, its presence can be one that inspires some and hurts others.

Especially that last circumstance is something I'm seeing explored more and more, and although I don't envy the hurt that provoked the shift (because I do have my own), the fact that more of us are speaking out about this day as complicated (for some, suddenly so) is a good thing. It creates empathy among us all, increases appreciation and encourages us to reach out to those who make an impact regardless of whether they're biologically mothers or not.

As some of you may know, I have published two Mother's Day pieces - "Dealing with the Mother's Day Motherlode Now That Our Mothers Are Gone" last year, focusing on the media onslaught, and this year's "Marking Mother's Day When Mother is Gone" in the NY Jewish Week, which (if the Facebook Like counter is a reliable measure) has been read hundreds of times since it appeared on Wednesday. I've been blessed with really great feedback on these pieces, and have been very gratified to see this subject covered so well by other people who are putting their lives back together again after loss, and putting words to the process to share publicly. I wanted to use this space to share four pieces - not written by me - that I found moving, helpful and resonant over the last few days.

10th Blogiversary Blogabration

Welcome to My Urban Kvetch, a place for me to vent about the issues that clutter my brain as I live my so-called-freelance life in the Big City. I'm all about looking at my experience through the lens of humor, whenever it's possible. […]And though I've resisted long enough, I'm joining the blog generation. My hopes? That this space will provide me with a forum for fleshing out ideas, kicking around premises and developing essays that will ultimately yield publishable fruit. And making it public? Hoping to be discovered, of course...by a fan base or by editors who will make my dreams of a positive checkbook balance a reality.

-First blog post at MyUrbanKvetch.blogspot.com, February 2, 2004

As of today, I’ve been blogging for 10 years. In those early years, I didn’t really expect to have an audience, so I named the blog after a popular NYC home delivery service, and just wrote until the piece felt finished, never mind the length or the sharpness of my arguments. Some posts were shorter bursts of commentary, and others more introspective. But as I became aware that other people were reading, I started to edit more carefully – less of a brain download and more of a curated analysis. To go a little meta, this is a curated analysis of some of those already curated posts;  a retrospective of sorts – not 100% chronological, but representative of journeys in styles, words and ideas over a decade.

At first, since I was a freelancer who was living on a budget in one of the most expensive cities in the world, a lot of posts focused on my apartment and my Upper West Side life. "Today I am a Toilet" (February 2004) recounted a rite of passage in the life of every nice single Jewish girl: that time when you have to lift a commode. (Come on, you know we’ve all been there…) August 2006's "Match Point" told another relatable tale, as our heroine, in search of chocolate, swallows something else entirely. (The original title of that post was “Dare to Be Stupid.”) In July 2007, her bathroom was the site of another unusual scene, transforming into "Upper West Side Rainforest."    

As I began to travel more, I began to realize that I really didn't like flying. Superstition emerged, and I committed to saying "The Traveler's Prayer" (April 2005) whenever I traveled - however, I seemed unable to memorize it and always seemed to forget to bring it with me. So I came up with an interim solution, to which I return every time I forget to bring my handy "Tefilat Haderech card" with me.  Among my more memorable travel adventures was the time that the Snowpocalypse stranded me at JFK overnight awaiting a flight to London for Limmud. , but people also remember fondly my fight with Delta, or most recently and as-yet unblogged, my losing my passport at Heathrow and somehow managing to travel back to LA without it.

#PewJew How-To: Responding to a Jewish Demography Survey

If you work in or adjacent to the Jewish nonprofit world, you know that the release of a study on Jewish identity can launch a thousand op-ed pieces, even if the findings themselves are not entirely surprising. The arrival of such a study can elicit excitement or flat-out panic, and reactions swirl together violently into an intellectual and emotional froth. As passionate consumers - educators, academics, rabbis, Jewish communal workers, pundits and theorists - assess this information, each draws out the information that serves - or threatens - them most, taking to their computers to provide analysis about how the findings indicate Jews must alter our priorities in order to thrive, or - more frequently - to merely survive. 

Graphic from The Forward: http://forward.com/articles/184795/jews-bound-by-shared-beliefs-even-as-markers-of-fa/?p=all

The deluge began again this week, as the Pew Internet and American Life Project released a new study about Jewish identity. (Not only is this study not on their homepage, a search for "Jewish identity" brought up "Faith Online," and for "Jewish" yielded "Wired Churches, Wired Temples.") According to a summary on eJewishPhilanthropy, "The survey suggests that Jewish identity is changing in America, where one-in-five Jews (22%) now describe themselves as having no religion. This shift in Jewish self-identification reflects broader changes in the U.S. public, whose share of religious 'nones' is similar (20%)." It also included the statistic that 34 percent of those surveyed said you could still be Jewish if you believe that Jesus was the Messiah. (That was a surprising one, actually.)

 

If statistics like these fill your brain with a froth of new ideas about how this survey is good or bad for the Jews, here are some guidelines designed to help you in writing your response, whether it's an academic article, a sermon or a Facebook post. These are tried and true methods that will enable your treatise to resonate - but don't use them all in one place. Pick and choose wisely, for greatest impact.

(What's Not) Working at a Nonprofit, Part 2: Tumblr as Blueprint for Change

This is a continuation of last Sunday’s post, “(What's Not) Working at a Nonprofit: Tumbling Ideas for Nonprofit Improvement.”

The nonprofit worker's life is full of frustration - while many of us suspected this was the case in our particular nonprofit professional experiences, at the end of July, we learned it wasn't just us. The Working in a Nonprofit Tumblr made it clear - these things are far more wide-reaching than our individual work lives, and weren't localized to Jewish nonprofit, either. Higher-ups taking three weeks to return an email....being expected to take a paycut because it’s a cause you believe in.... the frustration of having to get approval on literally every event detail...someone saying, “we should start a committee for this”...when someone responds to your email with questions that were clearly answered in your first email, etc. These situations resonated with people, and the site was shared widely. 

"It’s clear that the current system is broken," co-founder Leanne Pittsford said in her blog post titled "Why We Created the 'When You Work at a Nonprofit' Tumblr Blog." She and her partner Leah Neaderthal (who also co-founded the Tumblr) run Start Somewhere, which helps nonprofits with design, database and programming support, so they've been on the observing and improving end for a number of nonprofit programs and startup organizations, including Equality CA and TechSoup Global. "We’re talking about how we can take the energy around the blog and turn it into something that leads to action to improve working conditions for every nonprofit employee."

Some of these challenges may be deeply-rooted into the infrastructure of most nonprofits, and embedded in the organizational culture in a way that may be unchangeable. But I agree with the blog's cofounders in seeing the success of this Tumblr not just as a funny-because-it’s-true-but-also-sad-because-it’s-true pop culture moment, but as an opportunity for nonprofits everywhere. These challenges present a blueprint for change.

*******

Challenge #1: Bureaucracy and Process Problems

A number of the above examples – and a recurring theme in the Tumblr’s posts – is the unfortunate and widespread fact that nonprofit process and bureaucracy frequently impede progress. In one example, higher-ups take three weeks to return an email. Understandably, sometimes responses take time - CEOs are busy people, and even non-CEOs suffer from a deluge of email – but part of the challenge here is that the message goes into a void. Did it arrive, the sender wonders? Was it seen? Do people know that it's important? Will anyone respond? And if so, when? No one knows, and the sender certainly doesn’t want to be a noodge.  So everyone waits, and the process is delayed, and progress can’t be made. Or the sender does prod the recipient for a response, which makes the recipient annoyed and less likely to send an appropriate and helpful response, not just to that particular email but in the future. It's a vicious cycle. (Much like impassive kittens playing ping-pong.)

Suggested Solution: Establish Response Expectations

To respect the heavy responsibilities of all nonprofit workers, perhaps what's needed is some kind of acknowledgement that the request has been received and is being processed, for instance, instituting a timeline for responses from upper management. Having a timeframe for an expected response allows others to continue in their work, knowing and trusting that there's a process for managing requests as well as for followup. Perhaps leadership could acknowledge the high volume of requests with an autoresponse that clearly identifies a timeframe or a chain of command -  “if you don’t hear from us by next Wednesday, feel free to email a reminder” or “we will get to your question soon, but if your request is time-sensitive, please reach out to [designated employee] for assistance.” 

Challenge #2: Having to Get Approvals on Every Event Detail

When it comes to events, obviously there’s little to be done about the need for detailed contracts that fill nonprofit workers’ lives with the misery that is the approvals process. But the question of when “attention to detail” and “legally necessary” becomes “too many cooks, too many approvals, and way too much micromanaging,” it's time to reassess the process.

Suggested Solution: Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff

Yes, it’s a cliché. But just as in personal budgeting, there’s always something small you can live without, perhaps it’s time to relinquish control over having every detail in your personal spreadsheet. If you’re a boss who believes he or she has hired good people, step back and let people do their jobs. Absolutely have a process for events. Give constructive feedback, and clearly communicate expectations for future events. But know when to intervene and when to let go. If you feel strongly about approving the venue, types and quantity of rented tables, color of tablecloths, etc, that's fine - but leave the schedule, the food, the naming of event-themed cocktails, etc to the capable employees you work with. All of the event details must be handled, but do they have to be handled 100 percent your way? Sometimes imposing your structure of supervision on a process that’s already working can serve as an impediment to progress. Trust the people you hired  - you won't have to oversee everything and they will be able to implement their own process that will arrive at an equivalent destination, even if they get there by taking a different road. 

Challenge # 3: Someone’s About to Form Another Committee, Board, Working Group or Task Force

Committees can also serve as an important engagement tool, but if there’s no clear reason for convening and no respect for the time and talent around the table, it can serve the opposite purpose, alienating your stakeholders.

Suggested Solution: Be Clear About Your Content/Convene the Right People

If there’s something specific you’d like to achieve, if you have a clear goal, timeline and strategy plan, if you have the right people around the table, if you’re being respectful of people’s time and talents – go right ahead and form that body to consider actions or create vision. But bear in mind that the only thing more frustrating than sitting in one meeting where the purpose of the convening is unclear is sitting in a series of meetings where the purpose of the convening is unclear. This is not to say that there’s no role for open space and community brainstorming to identify directions for an assembled body; but even such freer-form techniques should help clarify the issue being addressed or the methods that you will use to address that challenge. So clearly communicate the purpose behind the convening. Have an agenda, establish a series of next steps, and make sure that everyone feels invested in and responsible for the success of the clearly articulated mandate – if any of these links is weak, it decreases the likelihood that anything substantial will be accomplished.

Challenge #4: Lower Status, Lower Salaries, Higher Callings and Higher Expectations

It’s true that nonprofit professionals are expected to do their jobs for less money than their peers in the for-profit sector. There is also, unfortunately, a lower social prestige involved in this field – the typical response to saying you’re in nonprofit is often a head tilt, and a “good for you,” accompanied by an automatic dip in that person’s perception of your professionalism. And this lowering of public perception, combined with the low pay and slow and frustrating process of progress, diminishes professional drive and expectations, resulting in a self-fulfilling prophecy: by being seen as less professional many of them become less professional. I have seen many promising Jewish nonprofit professionals who entered the field with idealism and boundless energy - now, they are working their designated hours, meeting their job requirements, but do so with dwindling energy and waning enthusiasm as they realize that in many respects they’re fighting a losing battle. Most discouragingly, in many cases the losing battle isn't the cause itself, but the obstinacy of the organization that is supposed to be tackling that cause.

Suggested Solution: Support and Appreciate Employees

Nonprofit professionals are idealists, but they also understand how it is on the ground. They know that lawyers, doctors, internet impresarios and hedge fund managers make more than they do, so we all know that there’s only so much to be done on the salary front. But appreciation? Validation? Incentives? Schedule flexiblity? This is the area where effort and care can have a real impact on quality of life for nonprofit employees. A new coffee machine or an employee appreciation day or even a crafted gathering for employees to try to troubleshoot challenges together indicate that employees are valued and that their opinions matter. Not every organization can afford a fancy espresso machine or a day at Disneyland to build morale and renew enthusiasm, but using an honest and sincere approach to making employees feel like their opinions and creativity are valued and important doesn’t have to be an expensive investment. Ask your employees what would help them, listen to their responses, and implement as many suggestions as you can; be as transparent as you can be about why you're implementing certain suggestions and not others, so people know their ideas have been considered and are seen as valuable, even if not every idea can be birthed into workplace reality.

****

A new approach toward effective communication, supervisor trust and support, and employee validation and appreciation could provide the necessary uptick in motivation and productivity and emotional reconnection to the work that drew us all here in the first place. If we’re lucky, the outcomes of our nonprofit work make us feel good. But wouldn’t it also be something special if working at a nonprofit actually felt good while we were doing it?

For more about the When You Work at a Nonprofit Tumblr, visit the Start Somewhere blog.

(What's Not) Working at a Nonprofit: Tumbling Ideas for Improvement

If you’re working for a Jewish nonprofit, it’s entirely probable that you’ve seen the “Working at a Nonprofit” site, featuring images from TV and film – which themselves don’t really have anything to do with actually working at a nonprofit –juxtaposed with text headings to illustrate the challenges and frustrations of nonprofit professional life.

For instance, “When you are in a meeting, scheduling a meeting, about the next meeting,” features a clip of Mad Men’s Peggy Oleson slamming her head into a desk. (We’ve all been there.)

This piece of social commentary appears courtesy of a blogging platform called Tumblr, which you should probably know about. (If you’re already fluent in Tumblr, feel free to continue at the start of the next paragraph, or continue to see how I manage to explain something that’s so clearly lacking an “e.”) For those of you who haven’t heard of it, Tumblr is a site designed as a simple style of blog; while it can focus on text as content (like the recent, brilliant and self-explanatory “Life of a Stranger Who Stole My Phone”), most “Tumblrs” focus on images, video or a series of gifs, moving image combos that recall the flip book or early film technology (named - like a .doc - after the file’s extension, .gif). If you have Photoshop, you can strip video down to a few frames and make a gif.

While some people create .gifs just because they can, others are turning them into an art form, entertainment or political commentary like the “Binders Full of Women” meme that popped up during the Presidential Debates, or social commentary like the above Nonprofit Tumblr. And while it’s all in good fun and often displays an immediate brilliance, seizing some phrase or pop culture figure particularly ripe for humor or spoofery, the “Working in a Nonprofit” one struck me deeply.

Travel Diary - Esther Volunteers, Gate Agent Sneers

I'm not generally the person who makes a federal case out of delayed flights and travel troubles - this is the cost for modern airline travel. But last weekend, I flew back from New York on a flight that was severely delayed. And the fun didn't end there. This is the letter I wrote to the airline, submitted via their customer service form for Comments or Complaints  - name of airline redacted for now - with a few literary flourishes added for my discerning blog readers. - EK

Dear Major Airline,

Look, I get it. I understand that flights get delayed, that equipment malfunctions and needs to be fixed. And just to be clear, I want you to fix the equipment malfunctions, and if it even remotely looks like it can’t be fixed, I also definitely want you to switch to an airplane that actually works. I’m even willing to wait until there’s a plane that flies properly.

So when I write to you about Flight # R5-D4*, which had been scheduled to depart at 9pm on Sunday July 28, I’m not writing about the delay of 45 minutes, which turned into 2 hours, which turned into 3 before any of us stopped counting. I’m not writing about waiting in the airport, or the crew’s behavior up to that point – staff members were apologetic and responsive, giving us $25 vouchers for shopping to ease the discomfort of delay, and some people received meal vouchers too (I had already eaten on my own dime, so I didn’t track down those meal vouchers). The trouble started once we were loaded onto the smaller plane.

After we boarded, someone realized there wouldn’t be enough seats on a smaller plane -why this only happened after our full flight from the bigger plane boarded the smaller plane, I just don't know - and the flight crew asked for volunteers to deplane. I really, really wanted to get home as soon as possible, and wasn’t inclined to volunteer for deplaning, until they announced the benefits package: a first-class seat on the first flight out in the morning at 7am, an overnight hotel stay with transfers to and from the airport, as well as 600 airline credit dollars, good on flights anywhere with the airline. If I took the 7am, I could fly in first class, a kind of comfort only dreamed of, be at work at 11, and have “earned” some money toward a vacation or family reunion at a future date.

I rang for a flight attendant: “Do you guys still need volunteers?”

“I think so,” she said, “go to the front to ask them directly before you get your bags.”

Following instructions, I walked to the front of the plane, asked them, they said, “Yes, we need you, go get your bags and come back.” So I did, walking back to the back of the plane quickly, grabbing my stuff as the flight attendants had instructed me, and exiting the plane at the front.

At the airplane door, I reported to claim the first-class seat I’d been offered, only to be told by the agent that there were no first-class or business seats on the 7am flight, only coach. (The reason I stepped off the plane, if you recall, was the promise of flying back to LA in first class.) “What about the 9am?” I asked. Only coach, he responded. Fine, I agreed. I’d take an aisle seat in coach on the 7am. No aisle seats were available, only middles, he told me. A nervous flier to begin with, I couldn’t face flying in the cramped middle seat. I sighed. So much for getting to work at a reasonable delay. “What about the noon flight?” The noon had first class seats available, so I was booked onto that. Seat 2D. It wasn’t what I’d been promised, but it would do. I'd be able to get some sleep tonight, and relax and work on the plane in the morning.

I walked the long gangway back up to the terminal gate, and when I arrived, a gate agent glared at me and sneered, “What are you doing here?”

“I gave up my seat and was booked onto another flight tomorrow,” I said.

“Why are they still sending people up here?” she barked. I understood that it was a frustrating situation, and that it was around midnight at this point, but her frustration was now squarely centered on me.

“I have no idea, but I was told that you needed volunteers, so I volunteered, and was rebooked onto a noon tomorrow,” I said.

Then she took my ticket, and threw it away. “You’re going back onto that plane,” she said. “They shouldn’t have kept on sending people up here.”

“Well, they did,” I said. “I gave up my seat a while ago, and was booked onto a flight tomorrow. I’m not going back on the plane. I’m tired and I’m going to the hotel to go to sleep.”

“You’re going back on the plane.”

“This is not acceptable,” I said.

“Fine. Take this drink ticket.” Into my hand she had thrust a card the size of a business card entitling me to a free drink.

“I don’t want a drink ticket.”

“Fine. Take two.” She shoved a second card at me.

“I don’t drink on airplanes. It makes me sick.” (If you've flown with me, you know this is true.)

“Just use it for snacks, then. You have to go back on the plane. We can’t fly with that seat empty.” (Because as we all know, a plane NEVER flies with 32E empty. </sarcasmfont>)

A guy at the counter pipes up, “I’ll take the seat! I need to get out of here tonight.”

“You don’t have a ticket, you’re not going on the plane,” the gate agent said to him.

“Look, what I don’t understand is that you needed me as a volunteer five minutes ago and now you don’t. What changed?”

“There was a couple that was traveling together, so we gave them priority. You’re single, and because you’re alone, you need to get back on the plane.” (She might have said, “because you’re traveling alone,” but it was late, and – as a former singles columnist – this is the language I remember.)

After nearly three hours of delay, I didn’t want to be the person who held up the plane, so I picked up my stuff, and with one last line from me about the treatment being unacceptable, I returned to the plane, promising that they’d be getting a letter from me. The gate agent who had booked me followed me out, and gave me a consolation prize - a $100 voucher for credit toward a future flight, which forces me to spend more money on this airline before I can claim it, something I am not inclined to do based on this experience.

In summary:

• I was offered a specific package of benefits to convince me to deplane, and once I deplaned, that package (first flight out in the morning, first-class) was withdrawn for both morning flights.
• After I accepted the second choice deal (first class, but on a flight 5 hours later than promised) and climbed back up the gangway, I was greeted with inappropriate and unacceptable attitude from the gate agent.
• I was told that I had no choice but to get back on the plane because they couldn’t fly with an empty seat.
• I was treated rudely throughout the process.
• I agreed to return to the plane rather than to further delay the plane after a three-hour delay.  
• Aside from the gate agent at the door to the airplane who had made “the mistake” of booking me onto another flight after I deplaned, no one from the airline expressed any apologies for anything, not even for the truly appalling behavior of the gate agent inside the terminal.

When I relayed this story to others, they asked me if I had taken the names of the people who had told me to step off the plane, or the person who had verbally abused me at the gate. I hadn’t: I was extremely tired, and it didn’t occur to me that a company like this one would dangle one offer and substitute another, or that a gate agent would take her frustration out on me. I fly often between New York and L.A., and as airlines usually note, we all have a choice in air travel. Based on this experience, the airline has proven itself untrustworthy and I am extremely unlikely to choose this airline in the future.

It would help as a gesture of goodwill if you would follow through on the original promise - a first-class, transcontinental ticket on a future flight and 600 airline credit dollars – or at least credit me for the cost of the flight that the airline botched so badly. It has been suggested to me that I send this letter to the head of customer service and the president of the company, but I thought I'd try this channel first.

Thank you in advance for your attention to this matter.

*In the original post, I referred to this flight as TK-421, which was an inside joke for Star Wars fans, but which apparently led some readers to believe the errant airline was Turkish Airlines, which - of course - on a domestic flight JFK-LAX, it was not. You'll see if you follow the above link, that TK-421 famously left his post to check on some equipment on the Millennium Falcon, at which point he and his co-guard (TK-422, if I'm not mistaken) were attacked by Luke and Han who donned their uniforms to save Princess Leia. I have now changed this fake flight designation to R5-D4, a malfunctioning little red droid with a bad motivator, which is not entirely inappropriate, given my experience. Are we okay now, internet people?