Blaning

Blaning of course, is the act of blogging on a plane. Fueled by three diet cokes and two laptop batteries and I am catching up on my electronic life. Emails are lined up in my outbox like thoroughbreds brimming with the newfound joy of a summer pasture. I am, however, somewhat struck by the irony that the one place I do this is quite literally the only place where I am not connected to the network in some way. Perhaps that should tell me something. If I was one to ponder such things I suppose I could draw some sort of life lesson.

Instead, my quixotry and quasi-regicidal babbling continues to flower and bubble as effulgently as ever.

In keeping with this somewhat Faulkner-cum-Seinfeld approach to communication, can I take a moment to comment about the airline on which I am traveling? They rent out a little digital video player for a handsome fee--which is fine. However, they have an ad on the big screen that shows an attractive exotic young lady (is her dad a GI?) walking along the beach in a bikini with…the digital video player.

No complaint here.

Finally, I brought a 4-oz stick of deodorant on the plane with me. Well beyond the 3-oz limit and not even in a plastic bag--unless you count my Banana Republic bag.

Yes, it's time to eat crow. You remember that line about how luggage is for suckers? Well turns out my quick trip turned into quite a long one--I had an extra day in LA with no change of clothes, no toothbrushes, and not even a cell phone charger.

Which brings me to this afternoon trying to get a cab to the airport--on absolutely no battery. It is a dicey situation to call a cab that way. And then get a call from the cab company saying that you cab just crashed and they have no more to send you (true story). I have just lost 30 minutes. Even though the airport is 8 miles from the office, it takes 45 minutes to sail the gleaming sea of cars and egos that is the 405 at rush hour.

However, the efficiency expert in me smiles a little when I walk and they close the airplane door behind me. Sure, I sold my health, my social life, my dreams, and my soul to corporate America. But at least I can be "that guy."