Real Stories of the Flyway Patrol

Yet again, I am blogging on planes--this second battery was a wise investment. Luckily, no jerks to read my posts while I am writing them.

I Thanksgave in Arizona this year--connecting with some college friends. (My camera is still DOA, so no pics. Maybe for Christmas I will buy a new one.) Turkey was tryptophanific, as was The Illuminario--small musical groups playing everything from mariachi to Christmas tunes in the Phoenix Desert Botanical Gardens.

Flying continues to hold its usual charm for me: flight to Hawaii delayed 6 hours, then forced to land in LAX because of an onboard generator failure, which was followed by a joyful stay in an airport lounge. ETA delayed to 2:10 AM Sunday from the original 11:30 AM Saturday.

The LAX airport holding corral is where it's AT! For everyone who thought of saying 'two turn-tables and a microphone' please go stand in a on the corner. The one with tranny prostitutes.

LAX is THE place if you want to meet Euro-trash who think that the whole "No Smoking" thing doesn't apply to them. Did you really think no one would notice? Not so chipper when I notified the Airport Police, were you? You are messing with America--we force countries into chaotic civil wars for much, much less. Air France? Pshaw. More like, Air "I am sure we have a secret CIA prison for torture wherever you are going." Smoke in my airport….

However, in every situation there is a little room for levity. Not funny: (man to wife) "Keep an eye on my seat so no one takes it." Still not funny: Wife is reading Memoirs of A Geisha. Funny: The Braille edition.

Finally back on the plane, I continue to fight the good passive-aggressive fight against electronic hegemony. Cell phone set to stun, ipod in alonergy mode, and laptop glowing brightly all during take-off--my equivalent of the Gibson "Frreeeedom" in Braveheart.

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