Greetings to all,

The holidays are fast approaching, and there is but a short wait before it is time to celebrate the True Meaning of Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is not a time to give thanks.

Thanksgiving is a time to get bumped.

For nothing brings more joy to the bumping devotee than to hear the gate agent's plea: "Won't Somebody Please Halt their Voyage!" The pleasure is in proportion to the urgency of the plea, for the travel freebies get sweeter with each desperate call. The cacophony grows loudest on this special holiday, where so many try so hard to cram their long journeys into the tiny Thanksgiving calendar. I will try to join in, as I now live in Phoenix, the Hub of Riches at Sky Harbor Airport. Yet, paradoxically, this trims my golden oversale opportunities. For there are only nonstops, not connections, to my destination. This chops my odds and makes me lazy: for connections now scare me, a fear that small towners stare down and conquer with every voyage. And I am further misguided: I am not flying America West Airlines (Is Becoming But Is Really Digesting USAirways), the awesome oversellers of legend. If I get nothing on my merely two flights, I shall have no excuse, and must hang my head in shame.

The devotee of the bump is assailed from all quarters. Today's bogeyman of fuel turns aisles of smiles upside down into frowns, shriveling the once generous free flight vouchers. Technology now weeds out the multi-bookers and the non-payers. The airlines punish the slackers by trashing the tickets of those who callously forget their flights. The cool blue airline grows in spite of the misguided mantra of "We Shall Not Overbook"; one can only hope that they will soon see the error of their ways. And an error it is: the ijet swarm is dropping like flies, undoubtedly sapped by this silly no overbooking, with their spoiled unfilled seats destroying their otherwise sterling strategy.

In the immortal words of Helen Lovejoy: "Won't Somebody Please Think of the Children!". As Paige, Claressa, Izaiah, Libby, and more little children come of age in our future, will they be able to live the thrill of the oversale? Or will they merely fly, without joy or meaning, beyond that merely from taking flight? A world without bumps is a flat, dull world indeed. So, for the future generations, the rally cry must be sounded, and it must be heard: "Overbook! Oversell! How many dollars now!". It is our duty to preserve this grand tradition for those who have yet to joyously take their share, so that they may understand the True Meaning of Thanksgiving.

With best bump wishes,