Oh, how the mighty have fallen on their faces. I'm talking about all those so-called financial wizards of recent years taking that inglorious stroll to the pokey -- the "perp walk" to perdition, if you will. And if you had a wry smile of Schadenfreude on your face as you watched this on TV, you are forgiven.
But hold on: Today, there's a new version of the perp walk, one that has nothing to do with Ponzi schemes or other financial misdeeds: It's a walk that innocent business travelers take every day at airports around the country.
You know what I'm talking about: The new parade of "elite" passengers who barge past the throngs of lowly coach passengers (those in zones 2 through 6), waving their specially marked boarding passes as if they were VIP credentials.
Nothing criminal about what they're doing, but they do give off the same whiff of entitlement as the original perp walkers as the rest of us can only sit on the sidelines and seethe.
Call it the new airline caste system.
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Actually, fliers have always been a part of an air travel caste system, ever since the first commercial flight took off from St. Petersburg to Tampa back in 1914. Of course, it was a single caste -- of rich people -- but after all, that first flight cost $175 roundtrip, or $3,700 in today's money (which is especially steep when you consider the flight lasted only 23-minutes).
But eventually things got a bit more democratic, what with the introduction of first, business and economy classes.
We in coach may envy those "elites" (while occasionally indulging ourselves, thanks to our companies or our frequent flier miles picking up the tab), but most of us are happy to let others take the cushier seats, finer meals and all the rest because who wants to pay the insane prices of first class?
So all was civil and there was peace on the planes, until, that is, the dreaded first checked-bag fee reared its ugly and expensive head.
This one fee alone has sent more passengers scurrying to their computers at T-minus 23 hours, 59 minutes, and 59 seconds before departure time, simply to be in the "economy elite," those who get to board first (after the true "elites").
You know why: It's the only way to get a slice of that coveted overhead bin space for the carry-on bags we now tote to avoid that $25 checked-bag fee (hey, you've done it, and so have I).
So has my 79-year-old father-in-law. Or rather, he has me! Good old Rick. Yes, his main reason for flying in a handful of times a year is to see his beloved granddaughter, but he also knows that when he gets here, all he has to do is hand me his ticket, and his favorite son-in-law (who happens to be handy with a computer) will go online at just the right moment to ensure he gets the earliest possible boarding.
But I'm on to his game, and since I don't want to sit in front of the computer anymore than he does, I've recently been paying the cut-in-line fee for his flights. The result: For less than an Andrew Jackson each way, I no longer have to worry about timing his check-in, and I remain the son-in-law of his dreams.