singing the jetblues

I was looking forward to flying JetBlue for the first time. As a marketing geek, I appreciate their hook, their savvy marketing chops and their rabidly loyal customer-base. Hub and the Things flew to NYC without incident. A slight weather delay, but they were able to wait it out in the terminal – no tortuous wait on the tarmac. The staff was friendly, the flight comfortable. So I had little preparation for the return home.

Our flight from JFK to California was the last scheduled flight of the day. Before leaving our rented cottage upstate, we tried to check-in online. There were error messages, but no explanation. To us it appeared to be a web issue. The weather bulletin on their website was from the evening before: no indications of problems. Their flight schedule showed our flight on-time, as scheduled. We checked other web weather sites. Some rough weather had blown through the night before and there had been some residual morning fog, but at the time we left our internet connection, the weather at JFK was clear and expected to remain so. Our flight still showed as on-time, so off we went.

Once we arrived at the terminal, two hours before our flight, we tried to check-in at the computer kiosks, but received an error message and print-out requesting that we go to the counter. Standing in the now very, very long line, my cell phone rings. It’s JetBlue! Cool! Oh, not so cool: our flight has been cancelled and we should contact JetBlue to make other arrangements. We’re still hopeful. The board shows that every other flight is leaving; some on-time, some with slight delays or gate changes. And most encouragingly, a flight to San Francisco will be leaving soon.

I tried to call JetBlue to make best use of our time in line, but the phone response portended the service to come: “We’re unable to handle your call, please try at another time” or words to that effect. No hold? No hope for customer service? Surely this is a mistake. Uh, no. Same message, over and over.

At last it was our turn. The Things were growing increasingly anxious about not arriving home as soon as anticipated, but Hub and I were hopeful. JFK is a big place, there would be options. We cheerfully, with a touch of rue, alerted the counter agent that we were supposed to be on that flight to San Jose. “What are the alternate arrangements? Do you have another flight later? How about that flight to San Francisco?” Nothing. The downturned eyes, the shrug of the shoulders. Not at all the response I was expecting. “Why is our flight cancelled?”. Weather. “Uh, can we all look outside together? It’s a lovely afternoon!” Domino effect. Weather earlier. “But other flights are leaving. Other flights are going to the West coast. Why our flight?” Weather. Domino. Uncontrollable irregulartiy. Ah! Code for “we chose to re-arrange our staff and equipment and we’re covering our collective asses so we don’t have to abide by our own customer bill of rights. Gotcha. So, how about another flight to a city that will have a connecting flight to San Jose? Nothing available. A partner airline? We don’t have any. A competing airling? No agreements. So, what CAN you do for us? Same flight, TWENTY FOUR HOURS LATER. We were struck dumb. Without a word from us, he booked us on that flight, seats all in a row (which means there was plenty of room – a clue).

Okay. Big sighs all around. Thing Two standing there with tears streaming down her cheeks. So, how about a hotel? Transportation. A firm shake of the head. No. Nothing. “We on our own?” Yes, you’re on your own. Call JetBlue if you want more. Gee, thanks. THAT is a hell of a resolution. Stranded in a terminal with no wifi, no travel agent, no staff ombusdman, zip. Thanks JetBlue. Now I’m pissed.

We call American Express to look for another flight. Nothing on any airline will get us close. If we’d had just a few hours more notice: no problem. Trying to get a flight to the west coast at 5:00 p.m.: not going to happen. Funny thing, Amex tells us that our flight shows up as on-time, still scheduled to go with seven empty seats. Clue number two: they chose to impact an underbooked flight to minimize their inconvenience.

Next try: Hotel. American Express tried to find us a hotel near the airport. Not much and so expensive! Damn JetBlue. The thought of hanging out in a thin-soap motel in Queens for twenty four hours with the now bereft Things? Not so appealing. Amex tried NYC: how about a Quality Inn on Times Square for $350? I tried calling the Affinia Dumont in mid-town where we had a lovely stay: nothing. The steam pipe explosion had forced thousands into area hotels. This wasn’t going to be easy. But thankfully the Affinia folks were not schooled in the JetBlue MO of customer service, they found us a SUITE in a partner hotel for $250. That’s what I’m talking about!

We’re troopers; we made the best of it. Mid-town, shut down to traffic, was crawling with FDNY and NYPD, but the bars were open, the streets were closed and it was a party. That helped to cheer up Things One and Two and distracted us from the unexpected cash we were laying out. The mental tally: taxis back into and out of midtown: at least $100. Another day of pet boarding: at least $50. Meals: Don’t wanna think about it. Hotel: $300 with taxes, et al. Keeping the Things entertained an extra day: whatever it takes. JetBlue: Thanks! Love that sensitivity.

It was a beautiful day on Friday July 19th. We were able to check-in online from our hotel room (another $10 for internet service) AND print boarding passes in the lobby. Good signs. Got a Town Car to the airport with a wily driver: arrived in plenty of time. Bag drop: a breeze. And then we waited. All of us anxious that there would be another unpleasant surprise. In the end, though we had to wait an extra 45 minutes to take-off, we were so happy to be on a plane headed for home, it just didn’t matter.

As a company that prides itself in doing things differently, as taking to heart their experiences this past winter, I am astounded at the treatment from JetBlue. I get that there were earlier weather issues; I get that flights are sometimes cancelled. But it’s all about how you handle it, and we – nice folks, no attitude – we treated badly. Even worse, it was the lack of options. No supervisors at the counter. Nobody answering the phones! No partnerships with other airlines. No accomodations for a TWENTY FOUR delay. No voucher offers. Just a shrug and a firm shake of the head.

We did contact JetBlue after our return and they offered us $50 vouchers for the Hub and each of the Things. Nothing for my flight. It was a canned response (I checked) and it ain’t enough. With Virgin’s new schedule and a healthy response from Southwest, JetBlue has to step it up. And they can start with us.

my intentions were good

I really did mean to take lots of meaningful, entertaining and illuminating pictures. No excuses, it just didn’t happen. But here are a few select images.

Lessons learned on the road:

1. If you’re going to move from here to there, it really is a good thing to actually cross the terrain between points A and B.

2. While it’s best to traverse from Elko, NV to Salt Lake City, UT fresh and alert, it really doesn’t matter. The soul sucking yellow smoky pall will sap your reserves. Food note: Chinese food in Elko: surprisingly good.

3. Just because a roadside stop reminds you of Bagdad Cafe, it might actually be a scary, scary place.

4. Wyoming: lovely. Driving fast: good (unless you’re a trailer, then you can expect to be dumped by the wind). Geology: excellent. Roadkill: exotic. XXX Adult rest stop: we’ll always wonder. Little America: Had to. And now I’d recommend it. Food note: fine trout, loved the Madonna Inn meets Cowboy decor.

5. Nebraska? Goes. on. forever. You folks have a lot of corn there. And so do you, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana and Ohio.

6. Iowa, you were a pleasant surprise. Dug the rolling hills, tidy farms and the hip Iowa City vibe. Who knew? And the pork tenderloin? Just like Dad loved.

7. The word must be out in Ohio, because everyone drives 55 mph. And drinks a lot of pop. Food note: The Bob Evans marketing roped us in, but the food? Meh.
8. Until our dying day, we will be certain that we did in fact spy an runaway Amish woman driving while talking on a cell phone. Uh-huh. You can’t tell us otherwise.

9. Until now, all the Poconos meant to me were punchlines a la Jackie Mason and round honeymooner’s beds. In real life? Pretty nice. Food note: Outstanding Irish pub fare at Siamsa.

10. New Jersey, Connecticut, et al: Where do you people learn to drive? And who’s the clown that designed those expressways with no left turn, no u turn, no hope, no exit? On my list, people.

rhode trip

Every now and then a girl has got to do something out of the ordinary. And so. Dr. Suz, minus dear sweet dad and Things One and Two will be traveling from California to Rhode Island with N. and our distinguished companions, Alexander and Napoleon. The latter of the feline variety. Auspiciously, our venture launches around 0700 hours on 07.07.07.

my how the garden grows

This is what abundance feels like!

humor is good

Thing One is at that age wherein we are led to some challenging conversations. Like the one recently about cleavage. Not being so endowed myself, I wasn’t really prepared. And didn’t handle it well. Worse still, the showdown discussion took place in a trashy teen fashion store in a hellhole shopping mall. I nixed a low-cut top, which led to stomping out of the store and an afternoon of sulking and door slamming.

Revenge, with a grin, was hers when she threatened to wear this to Thing Two’s softball game: