california update

So I�ve been on the plane for almost an hour now. Judging by the growls and shrieks of the infants aboard the aircraft, I would say they�re possessed. A child is behind me asking inane questions characteristic of youth, like why planes need to be repaired, if we�re above the clouds yet, if we�ve landed, will the girl with her head in her hands in front of us hesitate to recline her seat quickly so that my animal crackers spill all over my lap, etc. The flight attendants seem to sport a sense of humor and have offered to break into song and dance upon request. A flight attendant querying those in the emergency exit rows insinuated that men cannot read. The drone of the engine has made it somewhat difficult to hear myself chew, regardless of the level of crunch packed in to these miniature bags of pretzels. People keep clicking the release tab of their seatbelts and squirming to reach the faucets of chilly air flooding down upon them and adjust them to their liking. What should be a three-hour flight to San Jose has been inflated to five hours once the connecting flight to Denver is factored in. It cost near the upside of a thousand beans to purchase a flight out to San Jose without stops in between. The naked mole rat of a child behind me is repeatedly asking her dad whether or not the plane is landing, even though peering out the open window at the blanket of fluffy white clouds below would suggest otherwise. Thank God I have chosen not to contribute to the gene pool. In an attempt to retain my sanity, I frequently throw down my pen and take another sip of water, praying to whatever will listen that some of these macadamias won�t follow me onto the connecting flight to San Jose. A woman across the aisle is flipping through a Globe magazine. You know, the type of pretend newspaper that claims that they videotaped Elvis picking up a 24-pack of beer at the local 7-11 (�Elvis prefers Budweiser�) or that the body of Jesus has been found wearing a fedora and a pair of what appears to be a moccasin/loafers hybrid (�Jesus has bad fashion sense�).

And based upon jokes I have recently heard on TV, people in Minnesota do not live in windmills and do not have sex to polka music, and it only snows from late October to early April. If people can accept that homosexuals are normal human beings, why can�t they realize that Minnesotans don�t wear clogs or construct nativity scenes out of cheese? Sweet fuck.

Present:

Afterwards, I had to walk what seemed like a mile across the Denver airport, off into this little podunk peninsula where they didn�t even have electronic display boards. I boarded what appeared to be a business jet, and the single male flight attendant tried unsuccessfully to rouse the travelers into laughing. He even stooped to the levels of pretending that the crew members had been named after characters on Star Trek: Next Generation. He also, as all flight attendants are required to do, explained the masks that would fall into view should the cabin pressure radically change, and added that one�s own mask should be secured before assisting others. He then alerted parents to pick their favorite child. I sat next to a Chinese business person who said something to me and pointed to the mountains, and he drank tomato juice and used his cell phone although instructed multiple times not to. I could picture the plane nose-diving to the ground in an inferno because of this.

This is the end of Day 2 at Pat�s. Updates will be posted later.