What were the geniuses who formulate aviation policy smoking?
On the first leg of my journey to LA, there was a frickin’ light-bulb that was out on the plane, and they freaked out and refused to take-off until it was rectified. And it wasn’t even some semi-important bulb either, like the plane’s headlights(?), but the little thing that illuminates the row number. It turned out that 21 was the offending row.
I remember because it was my row.
This pushed departure by some half an hour. Apparently, “federal regulations” make taking-off with this sort of life-threatening problem a strict nono.
And then, on the second leg of my journey, one of the plane’s ENGINES refused to start, and they had to hook it up to some external life-support doohickey even to barely get it up. In the meanwhile, we got to hear the pilot tell us such reassuring things as, “Now you’re going to hear noises—like a dog whine—for just a bit, but I assure you it’s normal.” Normal?
This flight was in no way delayed.