Oh baby! The airlines hate us parents

By Lawrence Pintak

LOS ANGELES (JP): A middle seat in the back of the plane. Not one of my favorite places at the best of times. A squirming 11 month old on my lap made it particularly enjoyable. My wife, six months pregnant, was stuck in the absolute last row. Our seven- year old was also back there somewhere, sitting with strangers.

An aging Broom Hilda tossed a bag of peanuts at me with a scowl. Where was the Singapore Girl when I needed her?

Southeast Asia to the heartland of the U.S. One of the longest trips on the globe. Tiring and uncomfortable up at the pointy end of the plane. Downright miserable back here in cattle class. Call me a cheapskate, but somehow laying out bundles for the four of us to visit Grandma just didn't seem real cost-effective. So OK, I accept it that the seat in front is going to be in my dinner and that minor pleasures like straightening my legs will have to wait for 10 or 20 hours.

But I didn't realize flying economy with the kids involved actual abuse. How long has this been going on? Why hasn't someone reported it to the authorities?

If the airlines don't want people traveling with children (a perfectly understandable attitude), why don't they just say so? Don't they know the U.S. Constitution bars cruel and unusual punishment?

All right, certain perks -- like having people bow and scrape and tuck you in all nice and cuddly with a warm cognac -- come with the $5,000 ticket. But take off the suit, trade the laptop for an infant, and prepare to join the ranks of the untouchables. I've seen tribesmen with goats on African airlines treated better.

"Whatever happened to pre-boarding families with children and the infirm?" I asked an L.A. ticket clerk (perhaps with just a hint of impatience) as I simultaneously juggled the baby, changing bag and toy satchel, proffered the boarding passes, and tried to clear a path for my wife and daughter through the crowd of highly considerate fellow passengers who had closed like the Red Sea.

"Oh yeah," was her carefully reasoned response. Of the nine legs we flew on two different airlines, we were offered pre-boarding only once.

Her response ranked right up there with that of a ticket agent in Sydney, who was trying to explain why we had been split into separate rows when we had booked bulkhead seats: "Oh, that happens in these situations where we are overbooked."

Oh, well, since you have sold more seats than you have, far be it from me to complain.

Then again, I suppose there is a certain entertainment value for the cabin crew in watching a half a dozen families play musical chairs so that each can end up with a row of their own (it must be quite a geometric challenge to find a way to split up every family on the plane).

Once on board, the safety approaches of a certain Australian airline and its U.S. counterpart provided an interesting contrast. The Australians, understandably, insist on infants being buckled in with a special extension which attaches to the parents' seat belt. The only catch is that thanks to a design flaw, as soon as the squirming baby puts any pressure on the belt, it loosens and falls down around her ankles. Very effective. The solution, of course, is to explain to the infant the importance of remaining seated until the captain turns off the seat-belt light.

In safety obsessed America, on the other hand, the airlines take a bold and innovative approach: They provide absolutely no means of child restraint. The parent simply holds the kid on his lap. Infant seat belts, a stewardess explained, are illegal in the U.S. because "they are dangerous in an accident". It's obviously far safer for the child to go hurdling across the airplane. Some academic was probably given a million dollar government subsidy to reach this compelling conclusion.

Some of the other joys of travel with children:

Toilets with no baby changing tables. Common on U.S. carriers. The trick is to wedge the infant between the sink and paper towel dispenser without dropping him into the loo.

Airports with no trolleys. Navigating the 27 kilometers between gates in modern airports while hauling baby, baby seat and the 20 kilos of stuff that goes in, out and on a baby should be part of the training regime for the Iron Man trials.

Double booked seats. There are few pleasures in life greater than standing with a crying baby in a crowded aisle during boarding while the steward meanders back to the gate to figure out why you, the baby and a 300 pound Fijian have all been given the same seat.

Care and Feeding. You have to be impressed. In a total of some sixty hours in the air, the combined cabin staffs of two airlines managed to avoid even once asking whether we would like a baby bottle warmed or so much as a spoon for the baby food. "You mean she doesn't want the chicken or beef?"

But to be fair, at least the Aussies feed Mom and Dad. On domestic flights in the U.S., the airlines' idea of haut cuisine consists of a bag of peanuts and a Coca Cola.

Have a nice day.

Lawrence Pintak, senior advisor to TriComm Strategic Communications in Jakarta, piled up several million miles in first and business class -- before the kids arrived.