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I opened the paper today to discover that the traveling public’s old nemesis is back at it again. Les LeGroom has been an insidious presence in the airline industry for a long time but his influence is having an ever greater reach with a new rash of aircraft deliveries. Airlines are taking possession of airplanes that have same-size cabins as earlier ones but with the important distinction of having more seats crammed into them. Les has been up to this trick of squeezing humanity into tighter and tighter spaces for quite some time. Airlines have been hiring him as a key consultant ever since he left the sardine canning industry.

Les LeGroom is very open about his unwillingness to buy airline shares, softening his admission by claiming to be a simple fellow with simple tastes in stocks, airlines being too sophisticated for him. But don’t let that down home facade fool anyone; Les is as shrewd as they come. He was the brain behind the disappearance of food galleys in favor of more seats, recognizing that passengers pay and pastries don’t. And that brings up another area in Les’ book of what pays and what doesn’t; apparently there is some ugly water cooler talk going on at airline headquarters these days about the non-profitability of on board lavatories and maybe there needs to be some cutbacks there.

Indeed, it has been revealed through a leaked memo that Les is advocating that airlines begin to advise passengers to purchase ATBs before boarding. After some research, journalists discovered that ATB is the acronym for Airline Travel Brief, which is nothing more than a euphemism for an adult diaper. According to the memo, these should be available for a fee at the boarding gate if passengers have forgotten to supply their own. Apparently, memos are not the only leaks that airlines resent having to contend with.

State of the art seat cushioning is Les’ favorite claim to fame on the new aircraft. New seats are now designed to emulate the thin profile of the flip down LCD screens that are supposed to keep passengers glued in their chairs, mindless of their close quarters. Something tells me that the human body is not as adept at fitting into many of the prescribed folded positions and tilts of the new seating, despite the positive press the airline spokesmen are giving it. Sitting in my flexible desk chair and carefully enacting a written description of how the new seats can recline without disturbing one’s backyard neighbor, I managed to act up my sciatica and bloody my knee on the desk in front of me.

After piecing together a mental image of the Flight of Tomorrow, I can’t help but think that Les is all about more: More travel-induced deep vein thrombosis, more chubby grannies staying home at Christmas, more adult diapers in the landfill (Oh excuse me, the proper term is ATBs) and more unhappy flying campers unsure of what exactly to pin their gripes on. They may catch on to what is eating at them at some point in the future when they are required to slather themselves with oil before boarding. After all, that application worked well in the sardine industry.

(Readers: Please note that this is a reprint of an earlier publication in which I unintentionally misspelled a certain gentleman’s name. Since then, I received a polite email stating that in fact, Les LeGroom is spelled Less LegRoom.)