Well, yesterday has finally seemed to be coming to an end, and while I’m a bit freaked out over a mess I’ve created for work, I’m going to get over that. More important matters have arrived, not the least of which is myself finally getting to Helena from Houston via Salt Lake City, home of dooce after spending, I kid you not, the entire paleolithic era inside a Boeing 737. (Go read the dooce entry I linked, it’s the only reason I’m going to relax now)
Flying from Houston generally requires, at least during Hurricane Season, a signed hall-pass from God. I, once again, have not been to his house to get one, and so was stuck in the damn thing for three hours while we neither left the gate or were fed/watered/liquored up. I mean, come on, if we have to sit there forever, give a guy some whiskey. That way my comments can be LOUDER!
I did have an interesting time chatting with the girl seated next to me, who, for reasons of her father’s employment, will be living in Aberdeen, Scotland for the next few years. Hate her. But she was quite bright and terribly funny. Between the two of us, we had the area around us cracking up, because the pilot was a dolt who couldn’t tell us anything, and so we decided to make up new announcements for him. I have to say, I wasn’t the funniest of us, either, that goes to her.
My best line was, “In the unlikely event of a water landing, we’ve actually arrived at Salt Lake.”
Her best was: “Should we actually become airborne, party hats will drop from the ceiling and the pilot will chug a bottle of tequila.”
I could only laugh and ask who was to eat the worm. But I’m here for THE WEDDING and will be ushering, as a groomsman and filming the entire production. And if all goes well with some technological wizardry, we’ll be broadcasting it to some lovely folks in Houston as well. Stay tuned, I’ll let you know how this goes!