Through the inaccurate lens of time, in the Golden Days of Air Travel, an airline ticket was an expensive proposition and the airlines made it seem like it was the glamorous way to get from A to B. Not everyone could swing the cash to get on a plane and we suspect that we were a nicer society back then; men wore hats, women wore dresses and children were consigned to overhead storage.

Now, any four hundred pound pig farmer from the depths of Upper Buttcrack, Idaho can turn in enough empties to grab a flight. Invariably they wind up sitting next to you: "Hi, ahm Billy Bob Doofus and this is ma fust time onna aero-plane! It's a long plane ride to Hong Kong, do you like to play euchre? I brung cards!" People like that are the reason airlines run passengers through metal detectors; to stop in-flight killings of seat mates.

Both of us are, shall we say, generously proportioned. Neither of us buy shirts in sizes of S, M or L. Since we both travel more than we stay at home, we've developed some coping strategies and some observations about air travel.

Pitch: Sneak a tape measure onboard the next time you fly. Measure the distance from the front of your seat to the back of the seat in front of you. That is the pitch and it is a good numerical value for comfort. A nineteen pitch is reasonably comfortable. A fifteen pitch means you can't even clench your butt cheeks without hitting the person in front of you, assuming the person in front of you never reclines their seat.

Ignore the ads the airlines show; those are business class seats. The pitch is measured in miles up front. Some First Class sleeper seats have their own time zones, they're so big. Airlines never show you the "Inhospitability Class" seating, for a good reason. It would make you take the train, drive, or even go in a FedEx box.

Food: Airlines know their costs down to the fine dime. One of the US major airlines estimated they saved about $4 million eliminating the lettuce leaf under the six grapes they give you for the "Fruit" course. When you buy 70 million meals a year, saving 6 cents a meal starts to add up to real money.

Avoid the Kosher, Vegetarian, Hindu and other "Special" meals. A special meal is a red flag to the workers who put your food together: "Hey Lenny, let's take this raw bacon and a chunk of that veal over to the special meals area! Yeeeehawww!" And, trust us on this one, stick with the beef. It might be tough, stringy and taste like cow hooves, but it probably won't kill you.

Fish and chicken are same as putting a label on your head that says "I want to spend the first day of my trip on the can in a hotel room, shitting my brains out." Pasta, generally, is no worse than eating the safety pamphlet.

Air: Airlines recirculate their air. Here's why. There isn't enough air at 30,000 feet for you to breathe. If airlines didn't pressurize the cabin, they would deliver 175 dead people from New York to Los Angeles, fifteen times a day. This would be a bad thing for profits, as dead passengers really don't travel that much, but would cut down on catering and frequent-flyer program expenses.

However, since airlines have made the decision to let us breathe, they also run hypoxia experiments on us. Air at altitude, say 35,000 feet, is at about -40 degrees with very, very little usable oxygen. The aircraft takes that bitchin' cold air in from outside, heats it up to a comfortable temperature, adds some oxygen and blows it on your face.

This takes fuel to heat it up and money to add the oxygen. So, to save money, airlines recirculate a big percentage of the air in the cabin. They run it through a filter to get the really big lumps out, but on a cross-country flight, say Ottawa to Vancouver, about half the air that was in the plane in Ottawa is still there in Vancouver when they open the doors. It's very dry air, low in oxygen and has been run through a couple of hundred pairs of lungs. This is why you feel like you're hung over and had your skin run through the extra-crispy machine on a long flight.

By the way, the cockpit crew doesn't breathe the same air you do. They have to be on a separate system to prevent "crew fatigue". No shit, Sherman. There isn't a single thing you can do about it either.

Drinks: Assuming you can get the attention of the overworked flight attendant, buy your drinks in twos. Two by two worked for Noah, and two rum or wine or beer works for us. Have correct change for the poor flight attendant. It isn't their fault, so take it easy on them. The person to scream at is at the gate.

Pillows: There are usually only four in "Inhospitability Class". Steal one from business class as you walk to your seat. If someone challenges you, quote this passage: "I am using the pillow to keep from killing roaches like you with my bare hands. What part of 'fuck off and mind your own business' don't you get?" Keep moving.

Sleep: We try and book the window seat on the last row. These two rows are usually the last to sell out. With luck, you get most of a row to yourself. Pop up the arm rest and you can almost sit like a human. Avoid the overwing emergency exit rows, especially the window seats. Most often these don't recline, to prevent blocking the emergency exits. We learned this lesson the hard way on a flight on an Airbus A319 in 12A from Vancouver to Ottawa. We sat upright for four and a half hours and had to have a chiropractor unfurl us from the seat on arrival.

Ear plugs help with sleep, especially when everyone else is going to the "Colicky Baby Convention" with their little ones. Saving that, get the headset, tune in the opera or gangsta channel and crank it up to 11. An eye mask helps too. Sensory deprivation on an airliner is a good thing.

Drugs: Vodka and Benadryl works. So does Halcyon. Anything that makes you sleep. Don't go so far overboard that you become more entertaining than the movie, unless that is important to you. Payne Stewart, Swissair and Egyptair jokes on an airplane are not well received, so try and leave them out of your routine in the air.

What's your airline horror story? We want to know. One of us has spent 32 hours in the air, going from Ottawa to Hanoi, Viet Nam, in "Hateful Bastard" Class. You tell us your horror story and we'll give you sympathy, but not a whole lot more. You can reach us at robanddave@whatthefuck.com. We'll publish the best and the worst. In two weeks, we'll unveil the "Human Garburator" stories from two weeks ago. Enjoy the ride!