In case of emergency, DOT bans nuts

Ellyn Peterson

Growing up in small town Iowa, I relished the moments when I could live vicariously through my parents as they traveled to new and distant lands (basically Des Moines was enough to feed my imagination back in the day).

My anticipation for their return, however, was always sharpened when some sort of an airplane ride was schedule.

I knew that upon their arrival I would receive the gift I repetitively craved from travelers.

You can forget the T-shirts, the poorly made imitation shell bracelets, or the little plastic balls that create a snowstorm when feverishly shaken. I longed for one prize possession: a shiny bag of carefully-counted (20-21 when you count halves), mouth-watering airplane peanuts.

Alas, now that I am at the age where I frequently patronize that once-untouchable mode of transportation, I am time and time again disappointed by the bag of treats laid before me.

For those of you who have not recently flown our friendly skies, let me assure you that it is a rare occasion when the steward will offer you America’s favorite nut. The once staple munchies have been replaced by the low-fat and low-tasting bag-o-pretzels.

Baffled by what I noticed was a consistent trend on all airlines, I dug into the resources of airline policy to find out what the score was.

Did the change stem the from growing popularity of the pretzel? No.

A low-fat craze of petitioners against the peanut? No.

A price saving method instigated by the cost-cutting airlines? Likely, but not this time around.

This peanut begrudging is instigated by the Department of Transportation who singled out the nut and issued a directive last September to establish “peanut-free buffer zones” when passengers with peanut allergies are on board.

Since when has the division of the federal government cared about what we ingest on our way from here to there? Why the peanut, the cornerstone of airline travel, and why now?

The Seattle Post reported that the DOT’s proclamation to the airlines states that “a buffer zone would consist, at a minimum, of the (allergic) passenger’s row and the rows immediately in front or behind” that row.

Now, of course, airlines are not going to include “would you like a peanut or peanut-free zone” option along with the paperwork accommodating for a window or an aisle.

So we must all choke down the pretzel or, worse yet, some bland trail mix to accommodate others.

In all fairness, I would be willing to part with my beloved nut to save lives or make the world a better place, but in all accuracy the Post disclosed that there is not a single documented instance of anyone actually becoming sick from peanuts on an airplane.

Truth be known, only one-tenth of 1 percent of the population is allergic to peanuts.

I feel that I speak for others when I report feelings of nausea and intense migraines at the sound of screaming children, but they are not banned from flight.

And what about those with perfume allergies forced to sit by those who seem to shower in bad-smelling flora prior to coming aboard?

At the time of the announcement, the American Peanut Council president reportedly said, “That’s so absurd, really just plain absurd. How can the airlines guarantee a peanut-free environment?”

I tend to agree. After all, who is to stop customers from bringing on a peanut-butter sandwich or a peanut-infested candy bar?

Much to my disgust, all too often my assigned seatmates on those short domestic flights bring aboard everything from McDonald’s to homemade lunches, and the airlines couldn’t seem to care less about it.

In last Friday’s article in USA Today, U.S. Airways spokesman David Castelveter told reporters inquiring about policies surround the carry-on meals that, “We neither encourage or discourage it.”

If the DOT is looking for something relevant to police among the many choices of airplane foods, maybe they should work on identifying the black mystery meat that so often appears on my pull-down tray.


Ellyn Peterson is a senior in journalism and international studies from Algona. Thanks to airline travel, she never wants children.