Delayed in LAX

Delayed. If you’re traveling, that’s the worst word other than “enhanced pat down”. Here I am, waiting for my flight home and all I know is that my flight is “delayed”.

This was supposed to be an easy day trip–do some business, have dinner with my brother and sleep in my own bed tonight. The work went fine, dinner with David was great, now I have to hope I’m not sleeping on the airport floor later.

. . .

Even though everyone here came through our expert government screening, they keep blasting warnings at us to keep in physical contact with our bags. Gotta keep the climate of fear alive or people might start to think for themselves.

. . .

I only eat at McDonalds about once a year, but it just seems right in LA. I’m sure my Big Mac and fries had half the calories of the burger I had on Sunday. Cost about a third as much, too.

. . .

I saw dozens of billboards today flogging lap band surgery for weight reduction. I guess it’s big business down here where appearance is paramount, but it feels wrong to be pushing major, life-changing surgery like so much groceries and hair spray.

. . .

My brother didn’t believe me when I told him I was flying business class on Southwest. But for a piddling $15 extra, you get to use the fast security line, get priority boarding (I am number 1 to board tonight), get a free drink ($6), and get and extra Rapid Rewards credit ($30 or so). You kinda can’t afford not to take that deal.

. . .

A miracle!! A plane just pulled up to our gate. Looks like I’m getting out of here only about 30 minutes late. I can live with that.

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