I was a bit worried about the plane we took from Houston to Birmingham. I didn’t feel that safe turning the propeller when the pilot gave me the thumbs up. But the leather helmet and goggles they gave me fit fine and it was fun crop dusting and dropping the mail off at every small town in Texas. There was no inflight movie, but the flight attendant did wing walk for us. The great thing about a bi-plane is that if one wing falls off, you always have one wing left.
Actually I am typing this on an airplane, which is tough as it would be easier to type it on my laptop.
I was going to pack two bags but I did not want to pay extra to have them play “miss the baggage cart” or “Guess where you bag landed” or “How hard can we hit it with a sledge hammer?”
And when I do get my bag back, I never have enough courage to ask why it is duct-taped together with clothes sticking out here and there.
To avoid talking to fellow passengers I buried my head in a newspaper, but now am not quite sure where I buried it and hope someone digs it up soon.
Of course we got the standard safety lecture and I suggested that, even though my seat cushion could be used as a life vest, I would feel much better if I could use it as a parachute. I also mentioned that if the oxygen masks dropped down, I hoped they were filled with laughing gas, it would make that two mile fall through the sky much easier to take. They didn’t take my suggestions.
I played the game of lean my seat back which made the guy behind me lean his seat back. I felt sorry for the guy in the last seat in the plane. He had to be pissed, if he leaned his head back , he would hit his it on the lavatory wall.
I think they are making the aisles smaller. Instead of pushing a food cart, the flight attendants were pushing a roller-blade.
I did have a thought as I stood in the security line in my socks – when was the last time anyone washed this airport carpet and how many other smelly socks have stood in this same spot?
I always enjoy using the airplane bathrooms, decorated in that snappy gray. When Alcatraz closed down, the airlines must have snapped up its interior designer, whose color palette ranges from drab gray to depressing gray. I think he is the same one that decorates the New England skies between November and April.
My flight was uneventful and there was only one loud kid and his mother secretly wished that his face would turn up on a milk carton somewhere. I spent most of the flight using my teeth to unwrap a midget bag of pretzels . The lady next to me had dentures, so I let her use my teeth too.
Well my flight is descending and I must play my favorite game of unhooking my seatbelt, leaving my tray down in an unlocked position and leaving my seat in a reclining position so the flight attendant can scold me. It is nice to give them something to do, besides giving you warm cokes and glares and sneaking back to the galley and spitting in cups of unruly, obnoxious passengers. I always wonder why my coke tastes salty.
So, I am now waiting in Houston for my next flight and the air conditioner is broken, which is like a quick side trip to Hell which I hope I don’t get charged for. How humid is it in Houston? Go sit inside a steamy teapot, multiply that by two and you get an idea of humidity in Houston