Tag Archives: Robert Benchley

Come Fly With Me

10 Oct

Oh, yeah

Humorist Robert Benchley voiced his opinion on travel beautifully:  “In America there are two classes of travel – first class, and with children.”

Many miss the glory days of early air travel when flying was downright sexy and adventurous. Even glamorous! People wore “their Sunday Best” and regarded the occasion as if were something important.

Today, there are two classes of air travel: Private jet and commercial. Commercial to most of us, of course, means “coach.”  “Coach” is not to be confused with the company that creates stylish designer leather goods. That would suggest a level of quality not experienced with commercial travel.

Flying coach has become decidedly unpleasant. Forget dubious TSA gropings and medical grade X-rays. Forget exorbitant surcharges, inflated fees, and paying for peanuts. Forget cramped seats and precious little leg room. That’s all expected.

It’s the assault on one’s senses that irks us.  The majority of passengers seem scruffy, smelly, and in sore need of an etiquette manual. Ha, need I remind you there has been urination in the aisles and inappropriate deposits made on the food carts?

Ah, oui!

On a recent coast-to-coast trip, the red-eye flight was like a sleepover from hell with 115 unkempt strangers treating the cabin as if it were their private dorm room. It was Animal House on wings, barreling through the sky at 1500 m.p.h.

Unfortunately, these are often peeps you wouldn’t converse with in a stuck elevator.

The waitresses – sorry, I mean flight attendants – seemed unduly stressed. They were downright grouchy, and understandably so… considering they obviously don’t sleep like normal people. They have what I call “jet nag.”  I’ve had it since 1995. There is no cure.

My attendant (Big Marge) barked at passengers as she hawked reeking fried egg sausage sandwiches at them and resentfully swiped their Visa cards. It was like being at Denny’s – but more expensive, fewer selections on the menu, bad coffee, and no bacon.

After an endless parade of filthy T-shirts , snarly tattoos, and flip-flops – I spotted an urbane, natty dressed fellow strolling down the aisle. Crisp French blue shirt, pressed tie with gold clasp, sharp crease in his suit pants. Hallelujah!  A passenger? No, it was the lovely flight attendant from First Class. God Bless his buffed Bruno Magli loafers.

Photo credits: coachcanada.org and Myopera.com

Humorist Robert Benchley

9 Jun

I am pleased as planter’s punch to be named among the TOP TEN in the 2011 Robert Benchley Humor Writing Competition.

Hurray, hurrah, whoop dee doo, and cheers to all!

Humorist Barb Best


You deserve a good laugh!  Read the TOP TEN here at the RBS blog.

Barb Best and Robert Benchley

Robert Benchley

Learn more about the great humorist Robert Benchley & become a member (Geez, a steal at $10 a year) of the Robert Benchley Society.

The Robert Benchley Society Blog is chock full of amusing and interesting articles like Staying at The Algonquin.

Algonquin Round Table

Al Hirschfeld

The legendary home of The Algonquin Round Table at The Algonquin Hotel.  Special rates available!


New Yorker Magazine

Now That’s A Sexy Tattoo

20 Mar

With thanks to The Robert Benchley Society

How timely is this?  Groucho Marx sings “Lydia, The Tattooed Lady”

What To Wear?

25 Jan

The eternal question looms before us daily. What to wear?

For me, the answer is simple. What works for me?  Black, black and more black!


Okay, some gray (it matches my roots) but not too many shades of gray as that shatters my clarity.

As a transplanted NY comedy writer in LA and the 2010 Erma Bombeck Global Humor Winner (Erma rocks!) I feel compelled to wear black most days.  (So much so, that my concerned neighbor inquired, “Dear, are you in mourning?”)

For me, black summons the Muse. Black is cosmopolitan. Black is bodacious. Ha, I know what you’re thinking. Yes, black camouflages belly fat, love handles and flabby thighs (all the more reason to love it, I say!)

I like “comfy shab” when I’m plugging away on my humor blog Barb’s Blast (you’re reading it now honey!) or my books (stay tuned!) but also when – like many contemporary women (translation: multi-tasking, overachieving masochists)

I am a working wife (is there any other kind?), working mother (geez, is there any other kind?) coach, mentor, CFO, CEO, COO, microwave chef, dog nurturer, Satellite Sisters & Chaos Chronicles fan, Dorothy Parker & Robert Benchley worshiper, entrepreneur, bad TV aficionado, pop culture critic, aspiring cougar, pet therapist, chief wine and water bottle recycler, caffeine addict and other things I can’t recall.

With classic black and gray styles, I am as equally fashionable squeezing cantaloupe and kiwi in the busy market as editors and clients in onerous business meetings.

I am as comfortable stripping down in airport security lines as I am crafting uppity one-liners.

I look casually chic even when I feel as scattered as a pile of pick-up sticks in a 5.5 earthquake.

Shucks, I toss some fake pearls on and folks take me for a classy broad.

Serious and playful; It works for me.

Classic Song

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