airplanes

Tonight I’m in Phoenix, AZ at the Scottsdale Marriott at McDowell Mountains. My dad is here for a business convention and I am quite happy to be his golf partner for the weekend. (Apparently the UCLA Bruins football team is staying at this hotel as well, which is odd because we’re not very close to ASU.)

I would never really have considered myself a frequent flyer until about 2000. I was born in Rhode Island and went to elementary school and high school in Daytona Beach, Florida. In the summer I would usually fly — with my little sister — to see my dad in New England. Then I went to the University of Florida in Gainesville, Florida. Aside from one major adventure to London (and Dublin) during my junior year, and frequent travel in the Southeast for crew (rowing) competitions, I wasn’t much of a traveler. I’d been to New Orleans and Colorado. I had been just about everywhere in the state of Florida, and once I got to college I started driving to New England instead of flying, so I got to see most of the East coast of the U.S. But then in late 2000 I moved to Los Angeles …

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I just finished reading Flyboys: A True Story of Courage. My girlfriend’s little sister gave it to me for Christmas, which is some indication of how busy I’ve been this year. It’s a fascinating book, and I highly recommend it to anyone interested in learning more about WWII. It focuses mainly on captured Navy pilots and their tribulations on the island of Chichi Jima off the coast of Japan. It’s the kind of book that kids should be reading in high school, but sadly, I know they’re not.

from a review of “The Social Life of Paper”
On a busy day, a typical air-traffic controller might be in charge of as many as twenty-five airplanes at a time - some ascending, some descending, each at a different altitude and travelling at a different speed. He peers at a large, monochromatic radar console, tracking the movement of tiny tagged blips moving slowly across the screen. He talks to the sector where a plane is headed, and talks to the pilots passing through his sector, and talks to the other controllers about any new traffic on the horizon. And, as a controller juggles all those planes overhead, he scribbles notes on little pieces of paper, moving them around on his desk as he does. Air-traffic control depends on computers and radar. It also depends, heavily, on paper and ink.

<rimshot>
Two vultures board an airplane, each carrying two dead raccoons.

The stewardess looks at them and says, “I’m sorry, gentlemen: Only one carrion allowed per passenger.”

This is why I read Romenesko’s Obscure Store and Reading Room:

• Sisters Go Bonkers on Plane after Boozing It Up: The twin sisters, who are models, went from shouting to fighting. They smoked in the bathroom and used perfume to mask the odor, says an affidavit. One said to another: “I’ve gotta get out of here, let me off this airplane, I’ve gotta smoke, open this door!” One of the sisters threw a phone and the other put a flight attendant in a headlock.
• Ex-Drug Dealer Says God Told Him to Be Peppy the Pepper: Kenny Carter says God told him to put on the vegetable suit and entertain shoppers at the Super Fresh store. “I was crying out in the middle of church: ‘Oh, God! Oh, God!’ And suddenly I heard an audible male voice that said: ‘You will be a vegetable.’ … I looked around, thought I was going crazy! I began to worship again. I said: ‘Lord, speak to me.’ And I heard it again: ‘You will be a vegetable.’”

So. Here is the plane in which I flew to Camarillo and back for lunch today. The tri-tip steak sandwich at the Camarillo Airport is delicious.

I told priceline.com to find me a ticket to LAX for 2000.04.15 weekend. And I don’t wanna pay more than $300! We’ll see if it finds anything … I’ll keep you el postado …