It’s like your grandmother wanting to get an R-rated glamor-shot makeover.
Not only do you definitely not want to see her all tarted up in a push-up bra and marabou-trimmed satin mules, you have to run out of the room hollering over the sound of her voice whenever she so much as mentions it.
Same thing, aviation-wise, when it comes to Burbank airport, since 2003 called Bob Hope Airport. Before that it was the Burbank-Glendale-Pasadena Airport, the neighborhood airport for the 818 area code and parts of the 626 and 323.
Like your granny, it’s 80-ish years old, and also like your granny, it has sacrificed uber-modernity for the sake of comfort and shabby charm, and that’s the way we’ve liked it.
At the Burbank airport, you don’t expect first-class lounges with massages and lattes; you don’t look for caviar snacks orGucci boutiques. And you’d be shocked to the core if Burbank suddenly, like your grandma’s glam shot, tried to turn into one of “those airports.”