How I learned to fly (beatnick style)

My flight from Vancouver to Seattle to Boston to attend the Boston DrupalCon was a little less than desirable. The differences in flights in the U.S is amazing. My seat was comfortable with ample legroom and the flight incredibly smooth. The check-in attendant, however, was rude and actually told me that today was the day that I learned how to "fly" (because apparently I had no idea how the airports worked).

The entire flight felt like an advertisement. I was asked no less than 3 times to sign up for a Visa card. Food was for sale, Sodas were for sale, entertainment units were for sale, and anything/everything else they could possibly sell you was on sale. I felt like a trapped customer that couldn't flee the salesperson. I'm sure this is exactly what the airline wants (I couldn't go anywhere so I had to listen to the ADs) but I can promise you that I will probably not fly with Alaska air again.

Anyhow... I wasn't happy when I landed in Boston. Instead of writing a long letter to the company (which would be thrown out) or complaining to all ends I instead recorded a really bad beatnick poem and I did it on the spot. There are mistakes, much of it doesn't rhyme but heck I would've cornered anyone of my friends and made them listen to this so I might as well put it up.

Update: Yes they lost my bags, and then they lost my bags again.