1/30: I used to dislike Los Angeles flights (still do, actually) because of all the self-impressed "Hollywood types". I suppose the super-rich have their own planes, this probably makes it worse; the leave the first and biz class cabins relegated to the self-important, "super-rich-wannabees". I met Geraldo Rivera on such a flight, though I don't know as I'd lump him in that category.
But this is a Boston-San Francisco flight. America's Technology Highway meets Silicon Valley. Biz class is filled with young Wall-Street-Journal-reading-types. Very concerned about budgets and Marketing and "ADSL CPE designs" and... and I used to be one of them. Their cell phones are ringing, bleeping, beeping, warbling, well before permitted by the crew, either ringing (never shut 'em off) or couldn't resist making that too too important call. I didn't bring a US cell phone with me; I'm not jealous but it'd sure be handy now. San Francisco airport is paralyzed by the dust on somebody's shoes.
There's an allure... "Live fast, die young, leave a good looking corpse" the saying goes. I have to admit the money, the feeling of importance, that what you do matters to others (even if you're not going to solve world hunger, or something equally profound) — has appeal.
Eventually they'll get to their meetings, their conferences, their
families. This delay, minutes or hours will go down as one of the "costs" of
doing business. Unfortunately, I get to "pay" even though
I'm not "on business". And as for the guy with the mystery
powder on his shoes: string him up. Did he see that "Don't
walk on the grass" sign? (some components of fertilizers can be
used in bomb-making; witness Timothy McVeigh)