Mayday: Flight To Good Times, Going Down

I woke up to the lovely news this morning that ATA airlines was throwing in the (little lemon-scented wipie) towel, filing for bankruptcy, and canceling all future flights with no regard or recourse for the many poor consumers who, innocently, began their day believing the good money they paid for tickets to Maui guaranteed that they would actually get to go to Maui. Now, normally the financial foibles of airlines concern me not a whit (okay, with the exception of the time that Reno Air went down. Reno Air had great prices, was hubbed in my own sweet hometown, didn't skimp on the snacks, and had stand-up comedians for pilots. Flying them was fun, cheap, convenient so of course they went out of business) but I happen to have vested interest in ATA. $1365 dollars of vested interest, to be specific.

Yes, I was one of those innocent consumers; I've been rudely awakened from dreams of papayas, pina coladas, and (pictures of) six-month Squidge in an adorable baby bikini, and dammit, I'm cranky now. Okay, make that downright pissed. Mario and I were looking forward to mid-July and my cousin's wedding in Maui, even though it was a difficult decision to go in the first place. On one hand, it was a great opportunity for a family vacation, Squidge's first...on the other, we are financially struggling, and common sense would dictate that extravagant vacations wait until that's no longer the case. But it meant a lot to my cousin, so we finally said good-bye to some precious savings and made the reservations. Apparently it was just our luck to have the Expedia roulette wheel land on the airline with the financial management skills of a plate of mahi mahi.

At least I paid with my credit card (ha ha, the pay-later mentality validated!) and Wells Fargo can refund me (hopefully) by pulling the money back from Expedia, who would have to have a valid reason to protest this retraction--and ATA's Chapter 7 should keep them quiet. But a preliminary glance at what's available now is pretty depressing. Tickets are hundreds more for crappy, too-early and red-eye flights (with a six-month-old? Don't think so.)

As sorry as I'm feeling for myself, I'm feeling more sorry for my cousin, dealing with all these de-flighted relatives. We aren't the only wedding guests who are going to have to consider stowing away on a pineapple freighter if we want to see her say "I do."

Poop.