Word comes from Megan in Chicago, one of our most valued and assiduous correspondents, that this humble blog has been blocked by the IT police of her company. Megan writes:

I can tell you one thing that is going the wrong way. Bing’s Blog page has been officially blocked at work with a code of “Social Networking”… Stanley baby - can you pull a few strings and help the numb nuts in IT understand that I need this site in my daily work life? How can I possibly put in a full 10 hours without a spoonful of delicious irony! I’ve explained that this is a very useful site which quite often covers business related topics. I’ve stated my case that while the site is not essential to doing my job, it does help me do my job better. They’ve claimed that they will review and let me know - *sigh*. I’ll miss you sweetheart…

I’ll miss you, too, Megan! It’s all so unfair! A social network? Us? Could that be? Every day we have as serious a discussion of current business-related events as the facts warrant! Sure, a lot of the time we focus on the ridiculous and outrageous, but that’s a direct effect of the times in which we live, right? Just look at the following issues we’ve dealt with in recent months:

• Guys who play golf and bridge while their city-states are flailing, and are then super-compensated upon their departure;
• The collapse of huge banking institutions that stupidly gave loans to people who couldn’t repay them when belts tightened even one teeny notch;
• The most aggressive Fed in living memory, moving dynamically to do who knows what?;
• Utter confusion on the part of experts and pundits of all stripes, and a general sense of incapacity and weirdness from all over;
• The usual insanity pertaining to mergers, acqusitions, divestitures and other organizational hooey in organizations from Apple and AOL to Yahoo and whatever companies that start with the letter Z you can think of;
• Intense activity in the digital arena, including the geometric growth of online retail while brick and mortar stumbled;
• The worst performance by the airlines industry since Howard Hughes attempted to commercialize the Spruce Goose;
• Other (your peeve here).

We’ve covered these terrific business trends and stories just like a responsible information source should, with aplomb, sagacity and no little amount of sang froid. We’ve also looked extensively at your bulls**t jobs and crazy bosses, and even occasionally offered some advice in our Ask Bing sector. And if, in so doing, we have also attracted a witty, savvy, saucy, snazzy, slightly snarky group that get together with some regularity to comment on the general situation? Does that make us a social network worthy of blockage? Well! All I can say is…

Thanks for the promotion, IT dudes! Now come on! Free the blog! Lift the blockade! Let freedom ring!

Do you guys think I’m stupid? When I have problems with a company that has me at its mercy, in which I trust my life, do you suppose I don’t know who is really responsible? Like, if I walk the streets of a city and find them covered with garbage, do you think I blame the men whose responsibility it is to clean as hard as they can from day to night? Don’t you think I know there are too few of them to get the job done?

And if I fly an airplane that has been worked like an old donkey for the past 10 years, do you think I blame the pilots and mechanics for the fact that it throws a warning light every time it lands? What do you take me for? Seriously.

There were two kinds of comments to yesterday’s post that really set me off. The first came from the geniuses who told me I should walk from New York to California. I’m a cordial guy, so I’ll just say that I find those comments to be… what… insincere? I know what you’re saying. You’re telling me to, you know, have extremely personal relations with myself. Believe me, when I’m sitting on the floor of the airport sucking carpet waiting for the next time some guy thanks me for my patience, I wish I could. Because I can’t? I’ll just say… back atcha.

The second are those who think I’m blaming flight attendants, cleaning crews, pilots, gate agents, for the pain that the airlines inflict on we, the prisoners of Zenda. Believe me, I don’t. I know who is to blame. It starts with Ronald Reagan and we can go on from there. But no, I don’t think the working crew is responsible for anything except, at times, a really nasty attitude that you also see in my comments.

If I had to deal with the wretched refuse of our teeming shores every day, I’m not sure I would be any sunnier. I don’t know, however, that I would sport a pin that said “I don’t care what your name is either.” I’m sure the flight attendant had a good reason to wear it. But still.

A particularly hurtful but truthful comment came from Glenn in San Francisco. Here it is. I don’t want anybody to lose it in the shuffle, like a piece of luggage headed for Barbados that was intended for Peru.

As a 20 year flight attendant with AA who used to work flight 18 (the red eye from SFO to JFK) on a regular basis, I understand your continued frustration with American’s many shortcomings. In fact, according to DOT statistics, AA 18 arrives in New York on time (within 15 minutes of scheduled arrival time) less than 40% of the time — totally unacceptable. What your whining tirade fails to acknowledge, however, is that most of your complaints stem from AA cutting costs to stay afloat, without declaring bankruptcy, to satisfy the flying public’s desire for cheap(er) fares while costs beyond the airline’s control are at all-time highs. But what I find truly staggering is your lack of comprehension at what this cost cutting has done to the front line employees at AA. In addition to the mere pay cuts, vacation and sick time cuts, nasty changes in work rules and an overall demoralizing work environment, these cuts have impacted many employees in profound ways.

I do not expect you to feel sorry for me, but I spent my first ten years at AA working my ass off to save for my first house (I found a tear-down in my home town) and then next five years designing and building my new home (while still working my ass off to pay for it — no predatory/sub-prime loans for me - I had a 30 year fixed at 5.75%!). Three-quarters of the way through construction, we took our 35% plus pay cuts and while my payments would have been easily manageable prior to the “restructuring agreement” at AA, I now had to struggle to make the my payments. Ultimately, selling the home I spent 15 years of my life saving for and working on was the only option (additionally, due to the beginning of the real estate downturn, I didn’t even make a profit). I am now back to being a renter with an uncertain future. So please forgive me if I don’t exactly ooze with sympathy at how AA’s cost cutting has so negatively impacted your life — boo hoo.

The real kicker for me, though, is the irony that although the front line employees have suffered (as have our passengers), our senior management has been rewarded handsomely with bonuses in the hundreds of millions of dollars — a scenario that your employer, Fortune magazine, most certainly lauds. It is clear from the last decade or more that big business is primarily about massive personal wealth for it’s “corporate kings.” They don’t care about you - as customer, and they don’t care about me - as employee. They have enormous egos to feed and Hummers to fill up and that’s all that really matters to them. You should really have a better understanding of that.

I do, I hope. Anyhow, Glenn is pretty eloquent if I do not.

Here’s what I think: we all work for organizations. Our organizations work within a system. The system is bigger than we are, but it doesn’t absolve us from personal responsibility. That’s why I love people like Bobbi in Dallas, who made American Airlines (AMR) look so good in spite of all the indignities to which she may have been subjected by her situation, whatever that might be.

And that’s why I don’t like the gate agent in San Francisco, the guy who didn’t allow the pregnant woman, toting a stroller and a tiny baby in a Snuggly, to pre-board one night last spring. Sure, he had his reasons. We each have our reasons. We all live within the belly of our own particular beast. How human we are within that confine is up to each of us.

And, of course, how much any of us might want to do, or is willing to do, to change the system.  I’m open to any suggestion. As long as I don’t have to walk.

Lord knows I complain enough about things. Maybe we all do, but I’m a master at it. I complain about American Airlines (AMR) all the time, since I am their prisoner half a dozen times a month, if you count a round trip as two trips, which it is. It’s possible that it should count as three in certain cases, like last night.

For some reason, they have a hard time with the redeye at San Francisco airport. The “equipment” comes in from New York late, of course, God forbid they should actually have a plane on the ground ready and waiting for people to board, no, they have to use those poor mothers incessantly until their wings fall off, I guess. So the plane comes in and it seems like, you know, a complete surprise to the airline that it needs to be cleaned before it’s boarded again. I’ve taken the 10:30 PM several times and each time there’s a total fire drill as the grouchy American gate agent runs around looking for a phantom cleaning crew. Last night, he thanked us for our patience no fewer than four times. I don’t know about you, but as soon as somebody thanks me for my patience I lose mine.

Anyhow, last night the situation seems to have been that on the incoming flight a service dog had befouled the aircraft and somebody needed to clean up the mess. Nobody appeared willing to do so. They all ran around like maniacs for about half an hour, which made us just late enough into NY Kennedy that we hit the guts of rush hour and it took me 75 minutes to get the ten or so miles into Manhattan. So here’s a note to American:

Hello, American Airlines. Pleased be advised. Every Sunday night at 10:30 PM, a redeye flight leaves from San Francisco Airport. The equipment that is utilized for this regularly-scheduled flight comes in at about 9:30 or perhaps 10:00 PM, depending on weather and other considerations, including the fact that it comes from Kennedy Airport in New York, the worst airport in North America. When this equipment arrives, it will need to be serviced, re-catered and prepared for boarding. In advance knowledge of this, you might have a cleaning and catering crew on hand as a matter of course, rather than not. Thank you for our patience.

There. That felt pretty good.

But I don’t want you to think I only report the aggravations and incomprehensible shortfalls. So I will tell you the story of Bobbi at Washington Reagan Airport. She works for American Airlines, too.

Bobbi is an agent at that airport, which is a very nice one, by the way, quite new and sort of spiffy all over. Last Friday, I had to make a connection — Washington to Dallas, Dallas to SFO. The day before, it had snowed a little in Dallas, which threw the entire system into a tizzy. They can rope a steer down there and shoot a hunting buddy at 600 yards, but they can’t deal with a couple of inches of snow.

Be that as it may, the airport was a nightmare. People had been waiting 48 hours to board their flights, confusion reigned supreme, the food stands were out of food, there was no place to sit. As a business traveler, I can join the premium club for my main airline. It’s really no big deal. They don’t have butlers there or anything. For a few hundred dollars a year, you can have a place to sit, wireless internet, a working cash bar, coffee, a few magazines. It’s nice. I appreciate it.

Mostly, I appreciate the agents there. After a while, you get to know them and vice versa. On the day in question, I was very nervous that I wouldn’t make my Dallas to SFO connection and would not, therefore, get home at all until the next day. Something happens to my heart when I think I’m stranded. I lose the will to live.

Everything was delayed. My own flight out of Reagan was supposed to leave 20 minutes late, but naturally the plane itself, coming in from “snowbound” Dallas, was somewhere over Kentucky. Nobody really knew when it would actually leave. That’s the new thing in the last few years. Planes don’t run on a schedule. Airports are like hospital clinics. Once you’re into the system, you wait. But I couldn’t wait. I knew that if one thing was certain, it was that my connecting flight in Dallas would leave on time… because I probably needed it to be a little late.

Bobbi was behind the desk and went to work on my situation immediately. She noticed there were two Business Class seats in a flight that had been delayed from 11:30 AM. As it happened, a Texas congressman was in the chair next to me. She helped him too. She watched that flight like a hawk. She ascertained that, against all odds, those two seats remained a possibility. She watched her screen. She waited until the exact right minute and then did the absolutely unheard of: calling on some backup assistance from the other beleaguered and valiant colleagues there in the madhouse, she took the congressman and me by the hand and led us to the teeming gate. A few moments later, we were on the plane.

The rain was coming down hard. I never really believe that a plane will take off anymore, not even when its doors are closed and its waiting on the tarmac. But take off we did. And I made my connection. And had a late dinner in San Francisco.

So thank you, Bobbi. Thanks a lot. Thanks to you too, American Airlines. What you take away a lot of the time, you also give.  That’s saying a lot these days, I think.

In 2008 I believe we mark a very special anniversary: the 250th year that American Airlines has been serving the vermicelli and shrimp appetizer to Business Class passengers. But seriously. I know there has only been heavier-than-air flight for less than that, so those of you prepared to fire off a corrective comment can just stop right there.

It does feel like a long time, though. I recall, once upon a time, that American used to feature the food stylings of a number of chefs from establishments around the nation. Today, it’s kind of odd. They hand out menus with lots of type in them, but they always feature the same food. It’s Groundhog Day in the air.

In a time where nothing is certain, where the markets offer a different buffet of doom every day, it should be kind of nice to have something that never changes, never alters, year and year after year after year after… hm? Oh. Sorry. I got stuck in a loop there.

I have some questions for American I thought I would share with you, because perhaps you might have some answers.

Did somebody at the airline, back in the last century, achieve massive economies of scale by purchasing the largest number of teeny weeny beef filets in history? And do they now reside in an enormous frozen vault somewhere, tiers upon tiers of them, reaching up into the sky, a miniscule percentage defrosted annually for use until the next century dawns? How else are we to explain their ubiquity?

Were market tests done to determine that the vast majority of salad eaters enjoy creamy dill dressing? For a bright and shining moment last month, business passengers were offered a modified Caesar heretofore unknown, but that option seems now to have disappeared. Was there an upheaval among frequent flyers to bring back the creamy dill? If so, why hasn’t it been documented?

Who invented the super-cooked shrimp with rice-noodles that seems to be the annointed appetizer on most transcontinental flights? Is there an executive somewhere whose resposibility it is to say, “No. Enough,” and bring in the prosciutto with reconstituted melon dip as an alternative? When was it decided that resilient shrimp and limp, translucent noodles were not only the amuse bouche of choice for most customers, but of such popularity that they would be on the menu for most of our adult lifetimes?

Is the universe divided between those who select beef and those who opt for pasta? Is there no other road through the infinite regions of space?

Are these things immutable? Perhaps not. A few years ago, American introduced soy beans into its hot nuts mixture. Reaction must have been swift and powerful, since they were rescinded almost immediately thereafter. So change is possible. But is it called for?

Is there a vast business populace out there that, as they check in for their 15th or 20th flight of the year, has puffy little thought balloons above their heads filled with cold shrimp and chewy beef filets? Are there routes out there that offer other fare entirely, dishes that those of us who go between New York, Los Angeles or San Francisco know not of?

I know there are more serious matters questions that face us, ladies and gentlemen. This will never be the Davos Question featured by YouTube for response worldwide. But it isn’t only the big stuff that occupies us, is it? Aren’t the little issues sometimes just as intriguing, worrying away at the corners of our consciousness like termites, burrowing like moths into the fabric of our composure?

If you have any answers, please send them along. If any of you now reading this are associated with the airline, feel free to weigh in. And those of you who don’t fly this particular carrier quite as much as I do, are there similar patterns, concentric mobius strips of repetitive service in which you, when you travel, are forced to inhabit?

What other weird things have you eaten in the course of business lately? And yes, readers in Asia, I AM speaking to you.

This being the season of giving, I thought I would share with you a list of things I’d like to get from some of the major vendors in my life. The way I see it, I’ve given them so much during that past year. I don’t think it’s out of line for me to hop up on Santa’s lap and give them some clue of how they could make me happy in this joyeux season.

From American Airlines (AMR), I would like an on time departure from Kennedy Airport sometime in the next twelve months. As part of that, I’d like to have an airplane that does not have some “small problem” that needs remediation by a mechanic before taking off, or a host of puling announcements apologizing, thanking me for my patience, or explaining how our “brief delay” made us “lose our place on line to the flights headed to Europe.” I’d just like to get on the plane, take off and get where I’m going when I expected to, give or take a half hour.

I guess I’ll also ask Santa to bring some new planes for American. They’re trying to make do with what they have, Santa, but new Business Class seating is not actually the same thing as having an actual new plane that doesn’t require constant tinkering because it’s always in the air. I know they know that at American, and it must make them sad to offer the same old airplanes to people year after year after year after year after year.

From Apple (AAPL), I would like my touch-screen Ipod to hook up more easily to the Internet. The commercials show it seamlessly doing so, but I’ve had some problems getting online in places where you need a password, like Starbucks (SBUX). I admit this is a small present, just a stocking-stuffer, really. The gizmo is great. I love it. One with a few more gigs of storage would be nice, too.

From Stan O’Neal and Chuck Prince, late of Merrill (MER) and Citi (C), respectively, I’d like one million dollars. Each of them got enough in their platinum envelope to give away a little. I won’t go into any details with you, but believe me when I say that, like a lot of corporations, my expenses are very high and actually outpace my revenue. While cash flow is good, bottom line EPS for my annual personal report is nugatory. These humongous exit packages for failed executives aggravate me. I would feel better if I got a piece.

From Nintendo (NTDOY), I’d like a few more games? It’s a terrific platform, but XBox has a better lineup, at least for psychotic killers who want to roam free blasting evil mutants. I’m one of those and so are most of my friends.

From the Fed, I’d like a clear reading on whether we’re in recession, depression, inflation, stagflation, ingestion or decompensation, along with continuing decline in interest rates that will re-boot the ailing housing market.

From President Bush, I would like a quiet ‘08. While continuing war is good for some industries, I persist in the conviction that peace is better for the overall economy, and certainly for anything American that seeks to operate in the global environment, including American brands and American corporations.

These are just suggestions. I actually appreciate anything I get. No beef sticks or cheese logs, though. I still have some left over from last year.

Hello. I’m back. I took a plane from London to New York to San Francisco yesterday afternoon after a huge tour of one of our important new product lines and two important meetings, one of them even sober. I landed at 10 AM London time, which was 4 AM New York time, which was 1 AM SF time. So I was wide awake in London, dead asleep in New York and tired as hell in San Francisco. I think I may have slept a bit on at least one of the planes. That Ambien is a wonderful thing.

I was bumped to First from Business on the first leg. I’d like to congratulate American Airlines on its new 777. The compartment I was in was basically the size of my first apartment in Manhattan. And I’m looking forward to my post-flight stint in detox.

I’m glad it’s Friday, and I’m glad I’m back, as nice as London is, and it really is. I took a walk in Hyde Park yesterday morning/evening/night and the leaves were turning all kinds of crispy yellows and reds and browns, and a battalion of guys on horseback in cool uniforms trotted by playing eminently marshall music and it was all pretty perfect. Almost a dream, which could be explicable by the fact that 1/3 of my brain was in a deep coma.

Of course, when I woke up this morning I had 35 email messages and it was only 7 AM here. So I’m going to do that now.

As we begin our weekend, I’m going to keep one of your comments in the forefront of my mind. It comes from Joe from Columbus, Ohio, who writes in with an excellent point. “Didn’t you just write a “sky is falling” column?” he sniped after my upbeat appeal of yesterday morning. “You crack me up.” I laughed when I read that.

You’re right, Joe. I’m exactly the same as the market. Up one day, full of hope and beanery. Down the next, gloom and doom and apocalypse. And badly in need of a mental vacation.

See you all on Monday.

1. Eat. In any good airport, there are many places where you can enjoy a burger, a sandwich, even some decent sushi. Take some time while you eat. If you look around you, you will see many people munching on things while doing sudoku. In fact, if you’re not doing sudoku, it may seem to you that you are the only person not doing so. It’s possible that those of us who are not into non-stop sudoku are missing something. If, for example, I was into sudoku right at this moment, I wouldn’t need to continue this list at all. I could simply stop right here and do sudoku for the next two hours, get on the plane, do sudoku for another six hours, and be home, where I could continue the sudoku game I left behind when I headed out on Friday.
2. Drink. There is no shortage of bars in your average airport. What you drink often depends on what time you are flying, and what time it is at the place to which you are going. When I went to Japan a few years ago, our plane departed at 8:00 AM or so. The lounge was full of Japanese people drinking scotch and smoking. While this seemed unthinkable to me, and I like a good tumbler of scotch as much as the next fellow, it actually was natural to travelers who were returning home to a part of the world where it was then 9:00 o’clock in the evening. Right now, if I chose to be on New York time, I could have a flagon of something strong and brown. Except, you know, I just had waffles.
3. Browse the bookstore. Airport bookstores are fabulous, jammed with all sorts of books, even mine. Those that do NOT have mine in a prominent position, however, need to be instructed to do so. Please refer to the book section of this site to bone up on the books that need to be in the airport bookstore. If they are not there, please go to the person behind the counter and complain. Thanks in advance for your cooperation. After that, you may delve through all the best-sellers, classics and vast trove of business paraphenalia, and then get that new sudoku book you’ve been looking for.
4. Purchase a piece of electronics. My favorite place to waste an expensive half hour is the store that you’re sure to find that’s dedicated to all sorts of cables, charging units, and portable DVD players. Just about every time I get to any airport, I realize I have left my cell phone charger someplace else. The newest gizmo I like is made by Eveready, I think. It’s a little tube where you can put one battery. On the top, there is a tiny input where you may insert a variety of connection cables whose tips fit a host of phones and BlackBerrys. I just realize I left that at home. I’m going to get another one now.
5. Look at magazines. Hi. I’m back. After purchasing a new