This is the life. I’m on a plane and rather than being squished up against a heaving, obese neighbour with a slight smell of fish (as I was on my last flight), I have inches of room on either side of me, a flight attendant who stops by every few minutes to make sure everything is lovely, and Baileys in my coffee. For free. It even smells better up here. I’m never flying economy again. Well, until next week when my flight home has me stashed in with the other lowly peasants.

But for the next hour and a half, I get to have my jacket hung up by a flight attendant, sit in the larger chairs under an airline blanket draped over me and a pillow behind my head, and use the washroom that only 12 other people have access to. I half expected to find a golden seat or toilet paper made of cashmere, the way it is jealously guarded by the flight attendants for the first class passengers. No one behind the blue curtain (which may as well be an iron curtain) is allowed to disturb us posh folk.

This is my first time flying first class. Well, not first but the only other time was a random upgrade in El Salvador for a short 30 minute flight to Nicaragua so I barely had time to enjoy it. Normally my wallet wouldn’t allow such a luxury but economy was sold out and interestingly, first class was only $20 more for some reason. I jumped at the chance to try out the flying experience beyond the blue curtain.

Another perk is boarding first and being served a drink while the proletarians shuffle past. When I went to board with all the other first class passengers, the airline attendant looked me up and down and questioned if I was actually first class. Looking around at the others, I understand her skepticism. I’m the only person under 40 and the only one not in a suit.

I’ve been watching the new television show Pan Am and it seems to me that flying has lost most of the luster of its early years. The beautiful stewardesses (I don’t understand why we can’t call them that anymore) were college educated, spoke several languages, and were more party hostesses than servers. When people flew back then, they weren’t clad in the Lu Lu Lemons and comfy clothes that people of today are. They dressed up for the occasion. Perhaps passengers are just responding to the cut-backs airlines have been steadily making.

First to go were cigarettes, which I’m sure most of us are actually thankful for. Stewardesses would come by with a selection and even light them for you. Gourmet food used to be served on most flights. Now food is uninspired at best, if you are lucky enough to be on a flight that even serves food. Most airlines don’t even offer the crackers or cookies that used to be the norm. Checking a bag carries a cost on nearly all North American airlines these days. (Although I was happy to find that free baggage is a perk of first class!) But the most obvious loss from the golden era of flying was the atmosphere and idea that you were special and important to the airline. Now we feel a bit like cattle as we are herded onto and off the plane.

I understand airlines need to cut costs with the prices of oil and gas these days (that’s an article for another day) but it’s a shame when compared to the jet-setting days of the sixties.

First class seems to be the last vestige of those days. Even though my flight boarded at 6 a.m., and I only had about four hours of sleep last night, I refuse to close my eyes and miss even a second of this. It will likely be the first and last time I get to sit beyond the blue curtain.

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