"Try to start a conversation at a cocktail party about how much you love your old-line carrier and see how long it takes someone to throw a canapé at you." - Fred Reid
|My fellow frequent flyer...|
To my left, in the last row of the cabin, sits a little boy of perhaps seven or eight. He's already a seasoned traveler, he tells me in an enthusiastic voice, having flown, by himself, some eight times. His parents, presumably divorced, live in Long Beach and Seattle, respectively. Or at least those are the airports at either end of his journey. He's what in Hollywood they would call "precocious" on a casting call sheet, though in a sweet way. Very assured of himself, he will opine on any topic (asking what game I was playing on my iPad, he labeled Scrabble boring!) (The exclamation point was his.) He's well behaved and a rather nice young boy, though prone to trying to get attention by singing along to music on his headset a bit louder than warranted, and speaking in a tone of voice best reserved for an outdoor playground under a busy flight path. And scrambling across the seats when it comes time to visit the lavatory.
To my right, across the aisle, is a younger woman, dressed in a pink hoodie, who seems disinclined to socialize. Head down on the tray table she's giving off the strong vibe of being seriously hungover and just wishing the world would go away. Not unpleasant, just distinctly not wanting to be awake at the moment.
Next to her are two women who, from appearances, are mother and daughter. Both adult. Very nice, they are spending their time watching Food Network (we're on JetBlue) and trading comments every once in a while. Pink Hoodie couldn't care less.
In the row directly in front of me is a woman with two preteen girls, who are delighting in talking to each other and Mom. A very active conversation, without being distracting to other passengers, the two girls are clearly having an adventure. There's a little bit of voyage narration from the one next to the window, keeping her seat,ate apprised of the various spots and sights she is viewing out of the porthole.
"I can see clouds. I am looking down on the tops of clouds."
"There's a big mountain down there. Look!"
"We're over California now!" The middle seat sounds impressed. "No, I saw it on the map on the tv screen."
And so on. The girl in the middle seat seems to be having some issues with the tv screen not being a touch-screen. Ah, youth. What would they make of the Commodore 64, I think to myself.
|The ever-popular lavatory|
Okay, I'm not a parent and normally these things don't bug me, but what do you tell a kid who just watched that sort of thing? Really. I want to know!
The flight is beginning to wind down. According to the flight map we're approaching the Los Angeles metro area, though still at 35000 feet at moving at some 600 miles per hour. The flight's pretty choppy, but this doesn't prevent a handful of people from making that last-minute haj to the lavatories.
A sudden dip and change in the engines indicates we're beginning our descent into Long Beach.
Just another day at the office, I guess. Next week I'm starting an extended vacation and, as promised, you can follow along here and on Twitter. Headed to the Land Down Under...where men ..... And women......
Or so I've heard.
Ah. Seat belt light is on, and it's time to make ready for landing. Catch you on the flip side.
|The Friendly Skies|