Friday, September 23, 2011


I am lucky enough to be born in an era where airplane travel has replaced buses as more of the norm than the exception. Unlike most people I won’t thumb my nose at a good airport scan & squeeze now and again, as long as those TSA folks keep the rest of their rubber-covered digits to themselves. The only person I want poking around in my cavities is the dentist and even he has to pony up with a soothing gum-rub, 5 minutes of Nitrous ‘me time’, and a double-cup of spit water.

In general, I don’t mind most of the airport / airplane process except for the waiting. You see I have never been a good ‘WAITER’ and only a marginal cook. Since time ‘flies’ at the speed of light I want to fly that fast too. Oh sure it is fun to pass the time and look down at the little houses and cars but I already get that thrill from lording over a good game of Monopoly with my in-bred fam-clan. Nope, once you seal me up in a pressurized sardine can I want to set my Omega 3 Fatty Acid down and get the show on the road.

Despite my granite face and even harder head I obviously bore easily since my gray matter tends to turn a brackish green at high altitudes. This in turn is only cause for concern because my wife must find ways to keep me busy, with minimal harm to my fellow (and girl) passengers. Like a big Baby Huey, she usually brings me a bib and a ball-point pen so I can go through the Airline magazines and black-out the teeth of anyone caught smiling in an advertisement. Once complete, the same magazine gets my makeover of random stubble and wild crevice hairs, to bestow imperfect 5 o’clock shadows upon the Aero-rag's 'perfect 10' models.

As I make the third magazine pass to finish my obligatory cartoon speech bubbles with juvenile comments, my lizard brain needs additional stimulation beyond that screaming baby two rows up. I reflexively reach for my olfactory arsenal of tortilla chips and day-old tuna fish. Wisely but irritatingly my wife calmly backs me down and tells me to wait. WAIT? - Didn’t we already discuss this kitchen analogy? I am too old, hairy, and sweaty for THAT gig, especially when trapped in a flying aluminum cigar tube. From now on I think I had better stay grounded since apparently I am better suited as a ‘BUS boy’!


  1. compared to a bus I would rather be in training. The flying part of flying is the best part for me. The airport part is the worst. Better seats on the plane is my top suggestion for the airlines.

  2. Ha ha ha.... I haven't flown in about three years now. Such a pain in the patoot.

  3. Bwahhahahahahaha Now, I just have to remember not to be eating a sandwich whenever I come over here to read your Post! You are so pictorial when you write, but all too funny & honest. Totally love it & your wife sounds like one tough cookie & totally knows you & has you in line that's for sure! LMAO I totally love your explanation of flying (tubular cigar indeed LOL). Thanks for stopping by & putting a smile on my face! Have a great weekend & stop by anytime. My door is always open for ya! Wanna play monopoly! LOL You're too funny!

  4. Oh sorry, forgot to mention that was my youngest son & he's 32. His name is Robert Thomas after my Godfather & Grandfather. We called him Rocky (he was born around the time that the movie came out & he was a little fighter), and my mom use to call him Rocco. Also, the second picture was a school picture maybe that's why it reminded you of that. I have 4 children & yes Rocky is a mama's boy, but it seems it's hard for me to let go too. He's just so lovable & always needs his mama for one thing or the other. Yes, he's spoiled. They don't come over so much. Thanks again for stopping by.

  5. Seems to me you need to pack some Nitrous in your carry on. Just think how soothing flying would be with a little something to take the edge off. It is a miracle gas and one I use regularly when seeing the dentist!

  6. I like the image of you like Baby Huey with a bib and pen. I'm not good at waiting either. I preferred being served.

  7. I used to enjoy those connecting flights in two-engine planes. They flew so low you could see all the sights. Now most of the 'sights' are
    on the X-rated X-ray machines.
    But the laughs are in your blog. Thanks.