Bu-bye...

I read in a book recently that in America, "social class is probably the single most important variable in society." Yet the idea that the US is classless is one we hold dear.

While this notion is - of course - patently false, nowhere is the idea of social class more enforced than by airline frequent flier programs. In these programs you accrue loyalty miles for flying with a particular airline or airlines. The more miles you get the higher your level and so your status. Status levels with names like, "bronze", "sliver", "gold", and "platinum"; or worse yet, "member" up to "elite". And with each level come perks such as priority boarding, special check-in lines, better seating, and club lounges to go to instead of waiting at the gates.

And I've even enjoyed it, I'm embarrassed to say. Like at an airport once where there was a special security lane for frequent fliers allowing you to skip directly to the barrier. As I walked past the 50 or so people in line I heard someone grumble about me not getting in line, only to have their companion whisper, "Oh! He must be one of those elite fliers!" People turned and stared.

But the let me tell you, the old saying, "...the harder they fall" certainly applies too. As I found out when, not realizing my level had been dropped in a period of inactivity, I nonetheless showed up at the airline club lounge following a particularly horrific flight. After a quick check of my name in the golden book the gatekeeper at the club desk purred with malicious glee, "Ooo. So sorry Mr Ted, but your membership no longer includes access to the lounge. Uh, bu-bye." And looking past me brightly said, "Next in line, please."

I could have sworn I heard her mumble something like "let them eat cake." But with the whoosh of the exit door closing behind me, maybe I misheard. Oh well, "Easy come.."

- Farmer Ted