Knit Sisters

Don’t you just love air travel? I know I do.

You know what my favorite part is? Well, it’s when the pilot comes on the intercom with his aw-shucks-folks drawl he copied from Chuck Yeager (I am freely borrowing from Tom Wolfe here, but frankly I just cannot improve upon his description) and says, “Way-ell folks, it looks like we’re gonna to be headin’ into a little light chop up here fer a bit, so if you’ll just make sure those seat belts are fastened low and tight, we’ll get you on through to some smoother air jest as soon as we can.”

I know that most of these dudes used to be fighter pilots for the military and therefore are used to all kinds of airborne shenanigans—up to and including taking enemy fire. So when I hear one of them start drawling on about “a little light chop,” I prepare to lose my lunch.

My tolerance for turbulence has fallen off in recent years.

So while I was working on these bamboo socks,

we get the usual announcement about a little light chop. I’m not happy about it, but I go on knitting the sock. That is, until the flight attendant comes on and says, “We are asking at this time that all passengers return to their seats and remain there with their seat belts fastened.”

Fine.

Then he adds, “In the event of an emergency evacuation (emphasis mine), passengers are advised to leave all cabin luggage behind.”

Under my breath, I utter what I suspect will be my last words on this earth, deeply profound words that will resonate down through the ages:
“Oh shit.”

Then I start to think, is this his idea of a joke? And besides, do they really have to say that anyway? If the plane is in the process of crashing, do they really think that I’m gonna stand there at the evacuation slide screaming, “Not without my backpack! I will not leave this plane without my yarn and my travel snacks!”

Course not. I could easily leave behind those travel snacks.

Since I’m writing this now, you already know that we didn’t all die in a fiery crash. And in fact, after I kicked that flight attendant in the shins said a fond farewell to our flight crew, I trundled on over to the Tucson Budget Rental Car counter where they proceeded to upgrade me to this:

Feast yer eyes upon her: a red Mustang convertible. Gimme those keys!

There are those who say that the four most beautiful words in the English language are, “I love you, darling.”

Personally, I’d vote for “unlimited mileage, limited liability!”

Had I known that they were going to give me this car, I would have planned to stay in Tucson longer. Like say, five or six years.

But even though I’ll be rambling on by the end of the week, here’s where I’ll be working for the next couple of days:

Otherwise known as the home of the:

Tucson has been experiencing some dramatic desert thunderstorms that seem to come out of nowhere and roil up into clouds like these:

They are rawther impressive. I would not have been entirely surprised had God himself had emerged from behind this cloud and delivered a series of commandments.

Self-portraits with beads and bland hotel room:

I am really quite easily entertained.

Next stop: Fabulous Las Vegas. And yes, I will be doing dissertation research there. Research for my dissertation on blackjack and free cocktails risk and the nuclear establishment. More soon…

This entry was posted on Wednesday, August 9th, 2006 at 1:01 am and is filed under Sock it to me. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.