Imagethief has been leading a glamorous life of international travel this week. If you've never done it, you should know that by-and-large it sucks. Last week I flew to the US for a series of media training sessions with a client. They generously sprang for business class on United Airlines, which was nice (Imagethief's business class flying experiences can be counted on one hand if you include the thumb). But the return leg took me from San Diego to San Francisco on Friday, from San Francisco to Beijing on Saturday (arriving Sunday) and from Beijing to Singapore on Monday.

I am not a seasoned road warrior, so I was really feeling the effects of this dog-leg around the Pacific. Tuesday afternoon, after our all-day meeting, I wandered out of my hotel on Scotts Road with the idea of prowling Borders Books and the Apple store in Wheelock place, on Singapore's Orchard Road. Normally these are two of my favorite places to shop, but the cloak of jet lag made me feel like I was walking on roller skates while wearing someone else's prescription eyeglasses. I didn't spend a dime, and it was all I could do to make it back to the hotel without staggering into oncoming traffic.

The return leg from San Diego to Beijing connected through San Francisco. By complete coincidence, Mrs. Imagethief and baby Zachary were already in San Francisco on a trip previously arranged by Imagethief's mother, who's hunger for time with her grandson is a slightly scary force of nature. This meant that Mrs. Imagethief, Z and I could fly back to Beijing together, which was especially nice for Mrs. Imagethief, who'd had to solo with Z* on the way out to the US. Twelve hours in UA steerage alone with a four month old baby is, I am assured, an ordeal.

But the return flight arrangements weren't ideal, with me in business class and Mrs. Imagethief and the sprog in steerage on tickets purchased on my mom's frequent flier miles. The whole thing made me kind of uncomfortable: How dare you wallow in luxury while your wife and infant languish in the ballast? 

In search of a solution I queued up with the family in the economy class check-in line. I was overjoyed when the the check-in agent said I could upgrade the two of them to business class for $700. "Overjoyed" is not too strong a word. As a tight-fisted bastard, I am seldom "overjoyed" to spend that kind of money on anything, let alone something as ephemeral as an airline ticket. But under the circumstances I was genuinely happy.

Unfortunately, it took half an hour to process the transaction. The check-in agent tried twice to call her supervisor to check the upgrade price for Zachary (a lap baby), and neither time was her call answered. Yes, it's not just you. United Airlines won't even pick up the phone for their own employees. The agent had to go wandering across the concourse to find the answer (which, to my delight, was "free").

There were only two economy class check-in agents servicing the three United flights to North Asia that morning: The one helping me and another wrestling with a family that wanted to check double their allotment of suitcases. It was a total logjam for half an hour. I could hear the angry muttering gaining strength in the line behind me.

One man, a Hongkie judging from his accent, repeatedly asked out loud when the counter would close for his flight, and finally asked to see the supervisor. When he arrived, the supervisor was so cursory and dismissive of the other passenger's concerns that I was ashamed to be one of the two people holding up the line. No reassurance. No extra check-in agents or explanation for why any couldn't be added. Just an airy invitation to tough it out or use the automated check-in delivered with a casual cheeriness that suggested anything but deep concern for the feelings of aggrieved customers. As a PR man who subscribes to the theory that every employee is an ambassador for the company, I was pretty shocked.

My own service was great (and as a revenue business class passenger about to part with another seven hundred bills, good service was in certainly order), and they continued to take good care of us on the plane. A But if I'd been in the line behind us I'd be flying Air Turkmenistan before I flew United again.

The rapid switch from United from Singapore Airlines was a pretty stark lesson in the battered state of American carriers. I stepped off of United's fifteen-year old warhorse 747-400 and more or less directly onto an SQ 777-300ER so fresh that it still had new car smell. It also had, along with the usual complement of sylph-like, non-union sex-kitten stewardesses, the most amazing in-flight entertainment system I have ever seen in any class. Each seat had a  full-size power plug, USB port for your own movies and audio, network port and (wait for it) a 10.5 inch video screen (I measured it). And this was in economy class. All the movies and TV shows were random-access. I contrast this with UA long-haul economy class, where movies are still served via overhead projector, take 'em or leave 'em. I had no trouble killing six hours. I won't choose an airline based on the stewardesses (usually), but I will choose one for long hauls based on the in-flight amenities. And I'll pay more for them if they're good enough.

That, of course, is SQ's secret. I fly United because they and Air China are Star Alliance and the only two nonstop choices to San Francisco from Beijing. If you're flying domestically in China or the US, your choices range from bad to worse (and in the US, come with the secret sauce of increasingly humiliating TSA security inspections). After a couple of years flying mostly on US and Chinese airlines, it was nice to be back on an airline that competes on its service.

I don't over-romanticize SQ. They used to be a client, and I've had my share of miserable experiences dealing with their business side. Their economy class seats are pitched for midgets little people, and laptop power is only so much use when there is no room for a laptop (I had an empty row and had to put mine on the adjacent seat's tray table and sit diagonally to avoid permanent neck injury). I also abandoned SQ the last few years I was living in Singapore for Taiwan's EVA, which then offered a superb economy-deluxe class for the same price as SQ economy (they may still).

Taiwanese airlines aren't an option from Beijing, however, and as an SQ customer this week I was pretty happy. I still have dusty but pleasant memories of flying Pan-Am from San Francisco to London as a smally boy in the 1970s, when air travel was an adventure and a 747 felt limitlessly huge. A 777 sure isn't limitlessly huge to a 40-year-old man. But it was still nice to be on an airline that doesn't feel as if it's trying as hard as possible to hasten the industry's inevitable descent into the long-distance bus service of the 21st century.

Note:

Steven Schwankert of IDG News kindly nominated Imagethief as one of his five blogs to read during the Olympics. However, there was a sting in the tail:

Mixing acerbic wit with the lessons learned in the PR game, Will Moss provides readers with both a good chuckle and good advice. But he talks about his baby too much.

I mention this because Z figures a bit in this post. Steve's a good friend. Someday he'll be a parent and understand. Oh yes he will.

 Note 2:

The Register's Tony Smith was equally overcome with the gizmos (although he was on an A380).