Marcus Lopés

Author

Marcus

Take Positions for Takeoff – Part III: The Art of Patience

by Leave a Comment

This is the third and final installment in the Take Positions for Takeoff series. As a reminder, in Part I: From Chaos to Possibility, I wrote about the initial impact of COVID-19 on my life. Then in Part II: Be Ready for Anything, I shared some of my experiences as a flight attendant. Now, let’s talk about the biggest takeaway from my time in the aviation industry: patience.

Patience as Virtue

patienceThey say patience is a virtue. Maybe that’s true. And I often thought of myself as a patient person … until I became a flight attendant. At 38,000 ft, in a pressurized cabin, and when the only thing on offer is recycled air … human behaviour changes dramatically. Maybe the frontal lobe suffers some form of damage. I don’t really know. Or maybe it’s the stress of air travel and passengers trying to figure out all the different rules and restrictions that vary from one airline to another, from one country to another. Whatever the reason, it’s an opportunity to see people at their best and — unfortunately, and growing more frequently — at their worst. [Read more…] about Take Positions for Takeoff – Part III: The Art of Patience

Take Positions for Takeoff – Part II: Be Ready for Anything

by 1 Comment

In my last blog post, ‘From Chaos to Possibility’ (Part I of my series, Take Positions for Takeoff), I talked about the initial impact of COVID-19 on my life. Now, let’s enter the real world of being a flight attendant with Part II: Be Ready for Anything.

A Glamorous Life…

Some people think that being a flight attendant is glamorous. I thought that, too. Until I became one. It looks glamorous. And your followers on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram will ooh and aah as you post photos of yourself in Hong Kong one week, then London or Paris the next. That’s kind of where the glamour ends. Well, sort of.

Because they didn’t see you, tired and battered from jet lag, dealing with the idiot complaining it took too long to start the meal service when you (like the rest of the passengers) were seated during the first hour of the flight due to moderate turbulence. They didn’t see you, at 37,000 feet above the earth, performing first aid on a passenger who just passed out when the jerk in 37H came up to you and asked, “Could I get another red wine?” They didn’t see you, holding in your own fear and remaining calm to reassure passengers, as you prepared to evacuate the aircraft. No, they didn’t see you living out your mantra: Be Ready for Anything. [Read more…] about Take Positions for Takeoff – Part II: Be Ready for Anything

Take Positions for Takeoff – Part I: From Chaos to Possibility

by 6 Comments

At an altitude of 38,000 feet, I always felt like I was flying towards possibility. That a mechanical, steel tube even got off the ground — especially something like the Airbus 380 — left me in awe. Until the day I caught a whiff of an electrical burning smell and shot out of my jumpseat, as did the rest of my colleagues. Anticipating a rapid descent into chaos, for the first time in my four years of working as a flight attendant I had one thought: This is it.

It wasn’t. The flight diverted and landed safely. We spent a couple of hours on the ground while the mechanics figured out what was wrong and fixed it. Then we were on our way home. [Read more…] about Take Positions for Takeoff – Part I: From Chaos to Possibility

Running from Dogs

by Leave a Comment

Really, I was just running from one dog. And I thought I was a goner.

It happened Tuesday (24 March) during my morning run as I headed west along Queen Street towards Lansdowne. And it was early, probably around 5:45 am as I was only about twenty minutes into my run. And in these days of social distancing, it’s the perfect time to be out and about. The streets, sidewalks and trails are pretty empty. At that time of day, I see the odd runner, someone waiting to catch a bus, and a person walking their dog. It’s more or less clear sailing.

A Dog with Purpose

When I run, music (a medley of gospel — the handclapping, foot-stomping, arms-waving kind that gets people dancing in their seats or the church aisle) streams through my earphones. And I go into a zone. I’m aware of my surroundings, but just enough to make sure no vehicles are coming when I jaywalk through intersections; or to dodge the cars barreling through stop signs and red lights.

Yesterday, I saw the dog walking with its owner, but it was too far away — and too dark — to tell if it was on a leash. Normally, when I approach a dog and its owner, I give them a wide berth as I pass, stepping off into the road if necessary. Don’t want to spook either of them. This dog (not quite the size of a Great Dane but close) saw me coming and stopped in its tracks while the owner kept walking. I slowed down as I neared, not sure on what side to pass, and then it happened.

Charge!

dogThe dog, barking louder than the music streaming through my earphones, charged straight for me. Leapt off the ground with each pounce. Dove low, still barking, and it looked like I was about to lose a big chunk out of my leg. It wasn’t until I ended up thrusting myself against a storefront, hand on my chest and feeling my heart jackhammering inside, that the owner finally spun around and saw me.

His mouth opened, lips moved, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying because I didn’t move and the music still blared in my ears. And the dog was pitching right, then left, then right again. I had nowhere to escape.

I lifted my hand slowly and removed one of my earphones.

“She just wants to play,” the owner said.

Stunned. Did I just hear him right? Again, I didn’t say a word. Still too stunned and too afraid to make any sudden movements. And here’s the thing. I love dogs, and often when I’m out running errands there are always a few tugging on their leash to say hello. But this dog came charging.

“She just wants to play,” the owner repeated. A few minutes later, she was brushing up against me and licking my hands.

She just said wants to play, I thought when the owner finally — after three attempts — grabbed the leash trailing on the ground. The moment the dog was secured, as nice as she turned out to be, I bolted down the street, offering a terse, “Have a good day,” as the distance grew between us.

What a way to introduce yourself!

Living in Challenging Times

The COVID-19 pandemic has upended all our lives. It is stressful and uncertain, and despite the fact that I’ll be laid off from my day job in the next few days, I’m trying to stay positive. Actually, I see it as an opportunity to change my life. I haven’t really been enjoying what I’ve been doing, have been talking about making a change and suddenly — voluntarily or not — I find myself in a position to do something about it. So, in the weeks and months ahead, I’ll be embarking on a new journey.

In the meantime, I’m making the most of my days — running, writing, cooking, reading, and tackling the home projects I’ve been putting off.

How are you and your loved ones managing? Click Reply to let me know because we’re all in this together.

Stay safe!

Kindness is the Key

by Leave a Comment

Walking home the other day from the grocery store, I’d zoned out. I was running ahead in my mind thinking about what was next on my to-do list. The world around me had fallen away. Until…

“Hey! Hey, man!”

I heard it, but ignored it. Surely it wasn’t directed at me.

“Hey, man. Where’d you get that?”

I turned my head in the direction of the voice and saw a man leaning out the window of his pickup truck across the street.

“Did you get that at Loblaws?” the guy asked, pointing at the package of Cashmere Ultra wedged under my arm.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Any left?”

“There were five left on the shelf.”

He shrugged. “Thanks. I’ll check to see if there are any left.”

kindness
Empty toilet paper and paper towels shelves at Loblaws (21 March 2020)

I started to walk away, then I noticed the police cruiser parked behind the truck. The guy had been pulled over for something and was waiting on his ticket. So, I kept walking. But when I reached the corner, I spun around and looked back at the truck. It was still there, the police officer handing over the ticket. By the time the man made it to Loblaws, I figured the toilet paper would be gone. And that would suck.

The light turned green, and everyone around me crossed the street. I stood there, unable to make up my mind — keep walking or share my toilet paper. We had enough at home to get us through for a bit. I’d picked up the package because it was finally on the shelf, a rarity during these COVID-19 days. The officer was still standing next to the vehicle, and from where I stood having a nice little chat with the guy he’d just ticketed. Then he moved off, and I hurriedly retraced my steps.

“Hey,” I called out just as the truck pulled away from the curb. The driver hit the breaks and looked at me. “Do you need some?”

“Yeah,” he said.

I jetted across the street to the passenger side, tore open the package and started handing his wife rolls of toilet paper. “I’ll give you half.”

By the fifth roll, the woman said, “Oh, that’s really enough. You’re too kind. Can we give you any money?”

“Absolutely not. It’s the same everywhere. Nothing on the shelves.”

“God bless you,” she said and repeated it a second time as the truck started to roll.

Kindness is the Key

Lately during my runs through the streets of Toronto, I’ve noticed a sign posted in the windows of restaurants and shops shut down because of COVID-19. It reads:

We’re All in This Together

Yes, we’re all in this together. And kindness is the key.