New Day Rising
After a long delay getting off the ground, I'm
somewhere over the North Atlantic with a valuable piece of advice. Never order
the lasagne.
If I'd taken the 7:15 flight, instead of the 8:15, it
would have worked out much better. Rain clouds moved in as the bus took me to
the "mid-field terminal," and shortly thereafter the airport was struggling to
keep flights moving as a series of thunderstorms passed
through.
We finally got off the ground sometime after 10. The plane is only about 3/4 full, and I would have had a nice, four-seat middle section all to myself, except some stuffy creep decided that I had more room than I knew what to do with (nonsense - I had elaborate plans for all four seats) and took the far seat without so much as a "hello", a "do you mind?", or even an "I'm sitting here sonny, get used to it."
Much to my surprise, they actually fed us dinner. I'd eaten a fabulous "beer can chicken" dinner with Tamara and Logue and Nancy before I left, but I figured free is free, and I'm always eager for any activity to keep me occupied on long flights. I was even more surprised to find out I had a choice of meals - lasagne or chicken. Well I've had enough airline chicken over the years, and it seemed like a slap in the face to Logue's efforts to pile Air Canada "grilled" chicken on top of his succulent fowl, so I thought I'd give the lasagne a try.
I can't adequately describe what I saw when I lifted the foil, but I feel certain that the words "food" and "edible" would be missing from any attempt. "Slimy" might be in there though. As well as at least one reference to regurgitation. Okay, you get the picture. 'Nuff said.
The movie was Chicago, which I watched enough of to decide that it was basically a snappy rock video with overproduced jazz music. Not bad, but not good enough to hold my attention either. (I believe the movie on the way back will be "About Schmidt," which I'm hoping will be much more satisfying.)
So it's now 8:10AM GMT. We're scheduled to arrive in London at 9:45AM - almost two hours late. Jerry was going to pick me up at the airport. I hope he checks the arrival times before he sets out.
I'm going to go back to doing some REALbasic programming now. I can never keep my attention on anything for more than about twenty minutes at a time when I'm on a plane. Some kind of weird anxiety settles in and I bounce from book to magazine to movie to computer to fiddling with the seat and back to the magazines like some intellectual pinball machine.
The purser just came over the speakers - the "continental breakfast" is on the way. God, please no fried eggs.
We finally got off the ground sometime after 10. The plane is only about 3/4 full, and I would have had a nice, four-seat middle section all to myself, except some stuffy creep decided that I had more room than I knew what to do with (nonsense - I had elaborate plans for all four seats) and took the far seat without so much as a "hello", a "do you mind?", or even an "I'm sitting here sonny, get used to it."
Much to my surprise, they actually fed us dinner. I'd eaten a fabulous "beer can chicken" dinner with Tamara and Logue and Nancy before I left, but I figured free is free, and I'm always eager for any activity to keep me occupied on long flights. I was even more surprised to find out I had a choice of meals - lasagne or chicken. Well I've had enough airline chicken over the years, and it seemed like a slap in the face to Logue's efforts to pile Air Canada "grilled" chicken on top of his succulent fowl, so I thought I'd give the lasagne a try.
I can't adequately describe what I saw when I lifted the foil, but I feel certain that the words "food" and "edible" would be missing from any attempt. "Slimy" might be in there though. As well as at least one reference to regurgitation. Okay, you get the picture. 'Nuff said.
The movie was Chicago, which I watched enough of to decide that it was basically a snappy rock video with overproduced jazz music. Not bad, but not good enough to hold my attention either. (I believe the movie on the way back will be "About Schmidt," which I'm hoping will be much more satisfying.)
So it's now 8:10AM GMT. We're scheduled to arrive in London at 9:45AM - almost two hours late. Jerry was going to pick me up at the airport. I hope he checks the arrival times before he sets out.
I'm going to go back to doing some REALbasic programming now. I can never keep my attention on anything for more than about twenty minutes at a time when I'm on a plane. Some kind of weird anxiety settles in and I bounce from book to magazine to movie to computer to fiddling with the seat and back to the magazines like some intellectual pinball machine.
The purser just came over the speakers - the "continental breakfast" is on the way. God, please no fried eggs.
Posted: Mon - June 9, 2003 at 08:16 AM Meltdown Out and About Email Comments
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Total entries in this blog: 34
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Published On: Jul 02, 2003 09:07 AM
Total entries in this category: 17
Published On: Jul 02, 2003 09:07 AM