Is there such a concept as time-delay live blogging? Does that mean it’s just plain-vanilla blogging? Whatever you call it, here’s what’s going on.
My car to the airport arrived 45 minutes late this morning, which wasn’t what I’d call an auspicious start to this trip. The car service had previously advised me that my pickup time was later than they would have recommended. So much for that. Despite the delay and my later-than-recommended pick-up time, my driver managed to get me to the airport with time to spare; the result, no doubt, of some livery miracle that justifies the exorbitant rates the car service charges.
My flight left on time at 11:20am, which probably counts as the second transit miracle of the day. Surely the travel gods are smiling.
As you know, I’m still on the Atkins diet. Traveling on Atkins is never easy, so we’ll see how it goes. The in-flight meal choices included a chicken salad that was mostly low-carb. I had to avoid the mandarin orange slices and the pecans (can I eat those?) and the raspberry vinagarette (second ingredient: high fructose corn syrup), which made my salad into a faux-grilled chicken breast and some lettuce. Blech.
The in-flight movie they are showing is called “The Waitress,” which appears to be a chick flick about a knocked up waitress who makes pies. I saw precisely three people pay for headphones. There ought to be a rule that says that if less than ten people pay to see the film, they should offer a different flick.
It’s 1:12pm now (see, that’s the “live” part of the live blogging . . . except that I won’t be able to post this until later, which takes the “live” back out, I think), and I think we’re almost halfway to Vegas. I got stuck with a middle seat, so I’m a bit cramped as I type this. (Anything for you, loyal reader!)
If I had planned ahead a bit, I should have loaded some sort of game on this laptop that I can play offline. Of course, most of the games I play these days seem to only function when you’ve got internet connectivity. Ah, I remember the good old days back in the late 90’s wen I could fire up StarCraft on my laptop while flying cross-country. That was fun.
(Ok, somebody needs to tell the nasty old guy in the seat in front of me to A) get that scabby thing on his head looked at, and B) to stop picking it. Gross.)
In lieu of gaming, I brought some reading material with me. I’m reading End of Faith by Sam Harris, which is essentially an indictment of religion as a detrimental influence on mankind. When I got to a chapter titled “The Problem with Islam,” Harris sought to dispel the notion of Islam as a “religion of peace” by presenting various quotes from the Koran. In an intentionally repetitive and lengthy series of excerpts, Harris demonstrates the inherent intolerance and hostility of the Islamic text. I think it went on for three pages. Anyway, the reason I’m telling you all of this is not because I’m trying to get you to hate on the Muslims, but because I realized at some point that I was sitting on an airplane reading several pages of caustic Islamic rhetoric that called for jihad. I became very concerned that someone was going to look over my shoulder and decide that I was a terrorist. I firmly believe that my traveling good fortune would come to an abrupt halt if that were to happen. So, I put my book away. There’s no live blogging from Gitmo, folks.
That’s all I have for now. It’s about 1:30pm, so I think I’ve got some miles ahead of me. I may check in again in a little while if I can’t find another way to entertain myself.
It’s 3pm, and we’ve got another 90 minutes before we land, according to our captain. About 15 minutes ago, a woman across the aisle from me threw up into her barf bag. Awesome.
My salad wasn’t particularly filling. I’m starving.
4:05pm. The captain has advised us that “if you look out to your right, you should be able to see the Grand Canyon coming up.” I’m on the left side, thank you very much.
Just before landing, I heard a guy say “she needs another bag.” Shortly after, the puker puked again.