The Trials and Perils of “Mr. Cello”
It was just after dawn on a cold December morning, and I found myself standing in the United Airlines check-in line at Boston’s Logan Airport, firmly grasping the worn handle of my cello case. By all indications, it looked as though my air travel experience was going to be a pleasant one; the weather was clear, my plane was on time, and even the security line appeared to be shorter than usual. But my hopes for a smooth journey were quickly vanquished when I stepped up to the counter to receive my tickets. Upon realizing that “Mr. Cello” was not, in fact, an elderly Italian gentleman, the ticket agents informed me that I would be unable to board the plane because their rules required the cello to be placed in the bulkhead seat, which happened to be in the first class cabin on this particular aircraft. As I obviously had not purchased a first class ticket, this minor technicality posed a major problem. I tried to explain to the agents that it would have been impossible for me to reserve the proper seat, as United doesn’t allow customers to select seats when purchasing tickets, but my feeble efforts were drowned out by a particularly loud rendition of “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” issuing from the speakers overhead, and before I knew it I was bumped to a flight departing two hours later, whose bulkhead seat was apparently not in first class. Needless to say, neither myself nor Mr. Cello were very happy with the outcome.
My experience, which occurred in late 2011, came to mind last week when I learned of the outrageous treatment that renowned teacher and soloist Lynn Harrell received from Delta Airlines, who effectively kicked him out of their Frequent Flyer program because he had accumulated miles for his cello over the course of several years. In an appropriately indignant blog post, Harrell expressed umbrage at the airline, stating that the letter he received from them in regards to his alleged infringement “made me feel like a master criminal” and sarcastically pondered as to the rationale for Delta’s decision, writing that “given all the extra work airlines incur for tracking down criminally minded cellists, I can understand why a zealous leadership is always watching out for criminal acts with an eye toward reducing the financial burden of running an airline. I can see the motivational office posters now: ‘They must be stopped’ or ‘Only You Can Prevent Cello Miles Theft.'”
This latest assault on traveling cellists is simply ludicrous; if Delta is going to make us pay full fare for a seat, what difference does it make that what’s sitting in it isn’t in fact a living, breathing human being? We’re still paying hundreds of dollars just to avoid the plight of having our cello placed in the cargo hold, a fate that befell Paul Katz last summer on a JetWest flight even though he had purchased a seat for his instrument. While Katz’s 1669 Guarneri was mercifully unharmed in the ordeal, he went public with the story, describing the situation in a Boston Globe article and in an interview on NPR’s “Talk of the Nation” last August. Katz’s crusade is not without precedent; the United States Congress passed an act in February 2012 which, among other provisions, legally requires all U.S. airlines to allow a cello on board as long as its owner has purchased an additional ticket. Granted, JetWest is Canadian-based, but the fact remains that there is a great confusion amongst airlines both nationally and internationally about what to do with cellos, and as exemplified in the cases of myself and Mr. Harrell, the problem stretches beyond the initial issue of allowing the instrument its rightful place in the cabin. And so, as a cellist who will undoubtedly be taking many flights with “Mr. Cello” in the coming years, I’d like to offer a few words of wisdom to the folks over at the FAA:
1) You are legally required to let our cellos on your planes if we have a seat for it, so please do,
2) If we pay for a seat, we should be entitled to all benefits of our purchase, including (but definitely not limited to) checked bags, apple juice, and frequent flyer miles,
3) There has never been one recorded instance in which a cello posed a life-threatening risk, on an airplane or elswhere,
and
4) Why complain at all? By purchasing a seat for our cellos, we’re in turn giving you more money. If anything else, you should be encouraging us to bring Mr. Cello on board. And Mr. Cello wouldn’t say no to a pre-flight white wine spritzer, either.
