Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2017

Archive for the category “Airplanes”

I Think I’ll Take A Nap

 

THE PAST FEW WEEKS HAVE BEEN TRULY EXHAUSTING.

  1. Traveling – Which always takes it out of me.
  2. Funerals – Never a fun occasion.
  3. Hurricanes – We are all in overload on that topic.

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It’s Better Than A Gooey Tongue

THE OTHER DAY SOMEONE SUGGESTED that I needed a hobby. A Hobby? Like Stamp Collecting or Pickle Ball? I’ve had people tell me that I am their hobby. I’m not sure, but I think they meant that as a compliment. I suppose it could have been a diagnosis.

If I was to get a hobby of some sort I would want it to be something a little different, nothing mundane or unworthy of blogging about. It must have blogiosity.

I’ve spent most of yesterday and today doing some research into some things that I might consider taking up as a hobby. Here are a few of the things I have moved over to my “short list.”

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Swat! Slap! I Got Him! Aw, He Got Me.

MY SKIN LOOKS LIKE A CLOSE-UP OF THE SURFACE OF AN ORANGE. I am covered with mosquito bites. Why me, Oh Lord?

“Because you are a warm blooded creation that makes mosquitoes go ‘Yum,’ My son.”

Well, that explains it all. Thanks, God.

In the wake of Hurricane Harvey a Gazillion mosquito larvae erupted into the air, all looking for lunch and I must look like the buffet at the Golden Corral Restaurant.

Welcome to post-hurricane Texas.

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Fiction Saturday Encore – “God Bless Joe Sheridan”

Today I thought I would post a piece from my short fiction file.

God Bless Joe Sheridan” is the story of the airplane flight from Hell.

 

God Bless Joe SheridanBox tied with cord

 

I’VE NEVER BEEN IN JAIL, but, by God, I’ve done hard time. So have you, if you’ve ever flown coast to coast, shoehorned into a seat next to someone who could be the lovechild of Carrot Top and Casey Stengel.

You know the type. They talk incessantly, but make sense very rarely.

It was on a flight from San Francisco to Washington, D.C. I thought it was going to be a pleasure trip: see the Smithsonian, admire the classical architecture, shake my fist at Capitol Hill – all the usual stuff. Then I saw “him” trundling down the aisle of the Boeing 7-something-or-other jetliner.

“Uh oh” I said to myself. Why do bad things happen to, basically, nice guys?

I was in the window seat and I knew in my heart that, with this whole airplane to pick from, he was going to end up next to me.

The tip-off was the fact that his carry-on luggage was a cardboard box tied up with kite string.

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Picture If You Will. ..

TO PARAPHRASE DOUGLAS MACARTHUR (Under 40? Look him up.), “I have returned from Texas.”

A visit with the Family is now checked off our summer “to-do” list and, like most trip to Texas it exceeded our quota of Airline Weirdness.

It seems that every time we fly to Texas the airline (it doesn’t matter which one – Southwest this time) manages to slip over into The Twilight Zone. This time they outdid themselves.

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Fiction Saturday Encore – “Summer Magic”

A Basket Of Brisket

WELL, HERE WE GO – OFF TO TEXAS! Surprisingly our flights were uneventful – which is what you want. Eventful airplane flights make the news and that is never a good thing. Things even went smoothly in our dealings with the TSA aerobic organisms. I think they were having an “On-The Job Slumber Party. They were just waving people through without even looking at them. I bet I could have walked through there toting a Howitzer and Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. It always makes me feel so safe.

Once we got to our ultimate destination (Corpus Christi) we did what any sensible person would do – we stopped for lunch at Whataburger. It’s a tradition that goes back to the days of the Alamo and Davy Crockett I think. A Family thing, you know.

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I Am In The Upright And Locked Position

HERE WE GO AGAIN. We are barely home from our trip to Georgia and we are packing up for a visit with the family in Texas.

By the time this moves to the head of the queue we will probably be back in Terre Haute (That’s French for “We left the TV on.”). Such is the miracle of scheduling the posting of blog entries ahead of time.

There is a time difference to deal with when we go to Texas – it will be 1 PM in Indiana, but it will be High Noon in the Furnaces of Hell in South Texas. It gets HOT there in July. I like things on the warm side, but when we go to Texas in July I don’t feel like I’m sweating. It’s more like I’m being basted.

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Throwback Thursday -June 2015 “The Difference Between Jet Lag And Death”

Throwback Thursday – From June 2015

 

QUESTION OF THE DAY – What is the difference between Jet Lag and death?

Lag 2I’m going to have to think about that for a while – as soon as I am able to think again.

(Musical Interlude while brain cells attempt to realign themselves. This could take awhile.)

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Start Your Engines!

  • OH, BOY, OH, BOY, OH, BOY! This Sunday is the Indianapolis 500 race! I’m not going. I don’t need to. I’m already surrounded by it.

Terre Haute (That’s French for, “Hit the gas and turn left!”) is just about 70 miles from Indianapolis and when several hundred thousand fans show up for the race they tend to spill over all the way to Terre Haute.

Indianapolis is a big city, but even it does not have sufficient hotel space to accommodate that many people coming into town at one time. So, they start looking around and end up in Terre Haute for the weekend, commuting up Interstate 70 for the race itself.

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Read Your Rights

TODAY IS FRIDAY, THE GATEWAY TO REAL LIFE. I sat down this morning to write something brilliant, moving, hilarious, and earth shattering. After about 15 minutes of staring at a blank page I downed half of my coffee in one gulp and started looking through the detritus of links I’d saved on my phone. After another couple of minutes I came across a link that made me down the rest of my coffee.

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Cry Havoc, And Let Slip The Dogs Of Law!

OBVIOUS NEWS FLASH!

The ranks of the Super-Rich are about to expand by one new member – a rather dorky looking Doctor from Chicago.

By this time I’m sure that everyone has heard the story about the fellow who was dragged from an aircraft, beaten, and bloodied by Private Security Officers in Chicago. I hope that the CFO of the Parent Company of United Airlines has a nice new pen handy because he is going to be writing a lot of checks in an attempt to settle a parade of lawsuits that are going to sprout up. Salivating lawyers are lined up and ready to eviscerate the “Friendly Skies.”

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Throwback Thursday from April 2016

Throwback Thursday – Ireland

 

Carrying On About Carry-On

7WHEN THEY SAY “CARRY-ON” LUGGAGE I don’t think that they mean luggage that has so much stuff in it that the Airline Cabin Crew, other passengers, Customs people, car rental people, and me start to carry on about it.

I must admit that my carry-on is just that, but in the same way that a 30 cubic foot refrigerator/freezer on wheels can be considered “portable.”

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Throwback Thursday from February 2016

Throwback Thursday from February 2016

Wal-Mart Metropolis

Metropolis 3.gif

I WAS WANDERING THROUGH WAL-MART the other day and I was surprised at the number of people in there who looked like Hell warmed over. I’m not talking about the choice of clothing, if you could call it that, but their faces and the look in their eyes.

There is a line from an old Steppenwolf song about a man walking around, “With tombstones in his eyes,” and that’s what I was seeing in the aisles at Wal-Mart.

Maybe it’s a product of the mid-winter blues, or post-holiday letdown, but there were a surprising number of people pushing carts around who looked like they were ten minutes away from either collapsing or going zombie. They looked unfocused and exhausted with a look in their eyes that said, “Why bother.” I found it unsettling.

Not that I’m full of pep and energy, but these folks looked like I should try to recall my CPR training.

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Fiction Saturday Chapter 25 – And Pull The Hole… Continued

Fiction Saturday 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

pull-airplane“I hate this.  I can’t hear a damn thing.”

Inside the crowded cabin, the roar of the jet engines was only a constant vibration to him.  No sound was getting through.  He always flew stone deaf.  It would take two days for his full hearing to return.

“I know, Dominic,” said Peeto.  “Happens every time you fly.”

“Happens every time I fly.”  Dominic pinched his nose and blew, trying to open his blocked ears.

“I tell you, Peeto, I hate to fly.  I really hate it.” The blowing did no good.

“Yeah, it always messes up your hearing,” nodded Peeto.

“It always messes up my hearing, y’know?”  He stuffed five sticks of gum into his mouth.

It was a little more than an hour into the flight from Newark to LAX and the flight attendants had already started dealing out the prepackaged, precooked, and pre-ruined meals to the passengers.  It was a ritual known to the attendants as “slopping the hogs.” Somehow, that part never got into their ads.

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What’s The Good Word?

word1WORDS. I’M A BIG FAN OF WORDS. I USE THEM EVERY DAY. Without words I would be speechless. The only people I know who don’t like words are Mimes – and we all know how loved they are.

(Advice: Never stand next to a Mime. You might end up as collateral damage or, even worse, you might get stuck inside that invisible box that all Mimes seem to have.)

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I Intend To Rock Their World

front-deskTHINGS WERE GOING SMOOTHLY… TOO SMOOTHLY.

All we wanted to do was get on the airplane to Texas and do the whole Christmas thing. Perhaps we were asking for too much. To put it in just a few words – “Anything that could go wrong did go wrong.”

We had a scheduled flight to take us from Indianapolis to Houston. Our liftoff time was 7:45 AM. Rather than get up at 2 in the morning to pack the car and drive to Indy we did our usual thing. We went up the afternoon before, and checked in at a hotel near the airport. That way we could get a good night’s sleep, leave the car at the hotel, and take the hotel shuttle to the nearby airport. We have done this a dozen times without any problems.

Our shuttle was set for 6 AM.

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Cleared For Takeoff

texas1WE ARE FAST CLOSING IN ON CHRISTMAS and shortly we will be winging our way down to Texas. Airports in December – Such fun.

Experience has taught us that the best day to fly during the Holiday Season is on Christmas Day. The airports are not nearly as crowded. You can get a seat in any airport restaurant without waiting or having ten thousand other travelers (and their carry-on baggage) crammed in next to you. On the plane things are not as crowded either. We can stretch out a bit and the Flight Crew is generally in a better mood.

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Throwback Thursday from December 2015

Throwback Thursday 3

Houston, We’re Cool – No Problems Here

I’M WRITING THIS IN LONGHAND, on lined paper, in cursive, using one of those so-calledspace-shiba-inu-astronaut “Space Pens.”

The makers of this pen used to advertise all over the place when the pens first came on the market several decades ago. Now you have to do a Google search to find them. At least I did.

They called them “Space Pens” because; on some early NASA space flights they discovered that your basic, every day ball point pens didn’t work very well. Everything was weightless, including the ink inside the pen, and it wouldn’t flow onto the page. Apparently, in those early days of space travel, the Astronauts took a lot of notes. Or maybe they whiled away the long hours in orbit by connecting the dots or doing crossword puzzles.

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The Odds Are…Odder Than Most

ticket1Well, plans for Christmas are now in place. We will be flying down to Texas and spending  a week or so visiting with Family. I can’t think of a better way to spend the Holidays. OK – maybe hitting the jackpot on the lottery while there would be better, but the odds are not in our favor.

My wife, the lovely and optimistic, Dawn will go for a “Quick Pick” lottery ticket on occasion. She doesn’t do it all the time. She has standards – the jackpot has to be at least $100 Million Dollars or it’s not worth the investment of a dollar bill. I can’t argue with that. It really is a game of “Go big or go home,” so she goes big and then goes home anyway.

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