Frequent Flyer Headaches

It was that time of the year when Airline X sends me a notice that my frequent flyer points are about to expire. This year was a bit different. The front of the envelope exclaimed that I must redeem my points before a certain date. To me, this is confidential information. Must the mail carriers know about my flight activity? The last thing I need is for Carla the Mail Carrier to get jealous that I visit Akron on an annual basis.

I’m not flying anywhere soon, so I looked into the offer to trade my points in for magazine subscriptions. I handed the envelope over to my teen daughter who then took control. "Have fun," I said in a nonplussed tone and drifted off to sleep. Before I knew it, the mailbox was flooded with anything "teen" in its title. Those magazines come wrapped in strong plastic that NASA might look into using the material on a future shuttle – if they ever fly again.

Well, it is summertime and I worry that my daughter spends too much free time on the computer and watching TV so I’m happy that she is reading something, even if it’s a feature article on pop singer Katy Perry’s skin blemishes or trendy singer Justin Beiber’s choice of hair pomade.

My daughter didn’t just order for herself. She got me a few subscriptions including GQ. I always loved Gentlemen’s Quarterly for its slick layout, incredible photography, in-depth interviews and items that I will never buy. I confess that for me, it’s not realistic. $600 belts, $1,500 shoes and $4,000 watches are just not in my budget. But, the magazine gives me good ideas to look for similar items at Target, Walmart or even Goodwill. Sure, I might not have that Rolex, but my leather banded Timex will do just fine for now, thank you very much.

Another subscription is Conde Nast Traveler. I have a bit of a disclaimer on this one. For four years, I was a travel columnist at a local paper, but I rarely wrote an article on a "splurge trip" overseas. The paper wanted me to keep it real by covering Southeastern U.S. destinations. They had a good point. In this economy, most of us don’t have the time or money to be sipping expensive wine on a luxury yacht in France. When I read Conde Nast, I get "travel writer envy." Long feature articles on exotic African safari adventures, café visits in Greece and visiting the Sydney Opera House are just a few of the places that I would like to cover instead of the Redneck Games in Middle Georgia. Just like GQ, Conde Nast Traveler allows me to fantasize and try to do something comparable like a night out at Chili’s.

The magazines won’t be coming to the mailbox forever. I probably won’t have any airline points to trade in next year at this time. So no more magazines coming to the house might spell the end of my California Dreaming or knowing where performer Lady Gaga goes to eat in New York City. Does Lady Gaga really eat?