And You Think Your Trade is a Commodity?

I was, as usual, running late for my airport departure. I'm rarely giddy about cavity searches, peanuts disguised as a meal and sitting next to people who consider deodorant optional.

Yet, I'd made arrangement with the nice girl in the lobby for a cab at 2:20. "He'll be here," she assured. At 2:15, I give her an expectant glance. "He's already out front," she motions towards a black car. Not just any black car either.

It was the shiniest black car in all of DC, where shiny black cars compete at a different level. Next to it was a man in business casual, holding a black and white umbrella with a gold cab company logo on it. Soon as he saw me heading toward him, he popped the trunk.

Before I could say anything he asked, "Are you well rested for your flight, or are you hoping to rest during the flight?" He beamed this friendly question - later becoming important - and I answered, "Depends on who I'm sitting next to." He laughed, and in an instant, had carefully placed my bags into the immaculate trunk, motioning me to the rear seat.

As I turned toward the car, he whisked the door open. His manners were so different, I scanned for the hidden camera in case this was a big joke. Once in the car, my shock factor increased notably.

First, it didn't reek like the Sherwood Forest cocktail most cabbies use to disguise their lack of automotive hygiene. It was just clean. There was no debris, no crumbs, and wait... what is that...

Magazines. There were several magazines in the seat backs, including that day's Washington Post. "Take your pick," said Mr. Woods, whose name was on a professional sign preceded by, "Your Travel Host". This was a far cry from the normal hand-scrawled legal requirement duct taped to the seat back with a mug shot. "Travel Host". Nice touch.

He caught my glance in the rearview mirror, "I must ask you to please refrain from smoking since I'm allergic." I told him I was too, so not a problem. (Yet note his request with justification.) He confirmed the airline and airport, and we merged into traffic.

Just to make this scene even more eerie and hidden camera-ish, he said the unthinkable -

CLICK to see what Mr. Woods actually asked, and how your company can copy this.

The Joys of Air Travel

Back when Orville and Wilbur started the first airlines (tagline: "Hope We Make It!") they were shocked people would willingly ride in a plane, much less pay for the experience.

In time, air travel advanced to a stage where hot food was served in-flight (seriously, it happened) by attractive ladies with pronounced cleavage regions. Often during this "golden age", you and your luggage arrived at the same spot simultaneously.

Back then if you were late for a plane, you could always sprint down the runway and the friendly pilot with a gleaming smile would reach out his hand and pull you aboard, apologizing for the inconvenience.

We didn't have much "Security" back then. You could basically stroll into an airport, smoking several Camel cigarettes, cleaning your nails with a machete, and as long as you had a ticket, you'd be welcomed into the plane, with an apology for the inconvenience.

The "safety message" you'd hear was, "You are required to drink Bourbon on this flight. In the event this makes you queasy, here's a baggie. If this plane goes into the water, we hope you can swim. Steaks will be served shortly, so when I come by, please unsheathe a steaknife from my pronounced cleavage region and we'll get started. Thank you."

Today, most flights are delayed up to an hour while a 'stewardperson' mumbles something about seat cushions that double as white-water rafts, then gets the 'guests' on Aisle 8 to sign a waiver that they have a) been doing work outs with an emergency door and b) if everyone perishes it's completely their fault.

One thing that IS the same today are the lap belts. No one has ever explained why cars (many of which don't travel at 25,000 feet) have lap belts, shoulder belts, 3 dozen air bags, plus a Government- mandated glove box that - in the event of an impact - will emit acres of shaving cream.

Yet in a plane, which goes 700 mph (down the runway) and has no bumpers, we still use lap belts from a 1961 DeSoto. On a side note, I have been seated between what I am certain were dual side air bags dressed in business casual. Though I felt 'safe', I was unable to fully inhale from Atlanta to Denver.

No matter, if you want to get somewhere fast, air travel still works. Oh sure, it's not as dignified as it once was, but once you've endured several dozen body cavity searches, 'dignity' is a distant memory.

Why fly?

A face-to-face meeting hasn't been supplanted by the internet; conversational sincerity can't be replaced with email. Warmth of handshake, a genuine hug, and breaking of bread still irreplaceable by any means.

Soon, 6 consultants will travel from various locations to our Nation's capital, which I hear is still in the D.C. area. We've been meeting for 3 years (written about ONLY in SMI), twice a year, in different locations to discuss consulting, contracting, the betterment of both and each other.

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