December 26, 2013--Cafe Rona

The morning of Christmas eve we got off to a lazy start.

I was up to my usual thing--reading My Promised Land in bed when at about 8:45 Rona began to stir.

After she was fully awake, rather than go right downstairs for waffles in what I have come to call Cafe Rona, we remained in bed looking west out over the city in sunlight, toward the Hudson River, and beyond to New Jersey.

Without wind or even a breeze, it was a motionless morning. The only things moving were a bank of languid clouds and planes in Newark Airport flight patterns.

"So many planes today," Rona said.

"Right before Christmas must be about the busiest travel day of the year," I suggested.

"It's fun to think about where everyone is headed."

"Packed in like sardines," I said, referring again to the recent piece in the New York Times about how airlines are cramming more seats into their planes in pursuit of more profit.

Ignoring my cynicism, Rona said, "This early they're probably heading south or west. It's too early for any overseas flights. But wouldn't it be nice to be heading for Spain later today." She snuggled closer.

"I'm happy right here with you," I said, enjoying the snuggling, "Though Spain--"

"You know what's interesting?" Rona asked, looking out the bedroom windows, "All the helicopters. Maybe I haven't noticed them before, but look at how many are flying back and forth."

And sure enough there was a steady stream, mainly heading south parallel with the river. "They look to be spaced about a minute apart."

"Here come two more. And right behind them another one. Do you think something unusual's going on?"

"I don't know. Maybe since the airports and roads are busy they're ferrying people there. You know, above the traffic."

"Or they're charters taking people out to the Hamptons for the holidays."

"Or they are privately owned taking rich people to Martha's Vineyard."

"When we're downstairs," Rona said, beginning to rise, "let's see if we can look up what's going on. Maybe it's just normal traffic or maybe something special is happening."

While Rona was making the coffee, waffles, and Black Forest bacon, I puttered around the Internet to see what I could dig up.

"I can't find any news about this morning's helicopter traffic. Let me see what I can learn about charters."

"How many strips of bacon do you want?"

"I think three." While placing my order, from the New York Helicopters Website, I gathered a picture of what was most likely the situation.

"Listen to this, from 7:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m., they offer charters from downtown Manhattan to the local airports. And it looks as if for today at least all their choppers are booked."

"No surprise," Rona said. Intoxicating smells were already emanating from the kitchen.

"They say it take 8 to 12 minutes to get to any of the three airports--JFK, LaGuardia, and Newark. And listen to this."

"What?"

"Guess how much it costs."

"I'd say, let me think, maybe $150 each way?"

"Think again," I said.

"OK. I'm assuming more. These flights are obviously not for ordinary people, so I'll say, $250 a person."

"Not even close," I said, "How does $875 per sound?"

"How much did you say?" Rona sounded incredulous. As was I.

"You heard me--$875. And there's a two-person minimum."

"Ridiculous. So before tax and probably a tip it will set a couple back $1,750 just to get to the friggin airport! Things are really getting out of hand."

"But wait, there's good news."

"What's that?"

"You can take up to 25 pounds of luggage."

"You call that good news?"

"Well, it's something. At least they don't charge for luggage as many airlines now do."

"When we travel," Rona said, laughing about the absurdity of this. "My shoe bag alone weighs 25 pounds."

"I'm glad you and not I said that."