Day Zero: Let Them Eat Pistachios
Je suis en train de voyager.
(juh SWEEZ un TRAHN duh voy-ah-JAY)
"I am in the process of traveling."
One disadvantage of being well-prepared is how very long are those last few hours when everything is done but the waiting... Was utterly packed by 8am and soon was reduced to washing dishes and emptying garbage cans to pass the time. The calico was, of course, at the height of her snugglability, brandishing her soft white underbelly at me shamelessly. But I explained to the cats one by one, and they were cool with it. By bolting out while they were at feed, we managed to avoid an emotional scene.
On the way to the Oakland airport, Khaled drove with the honed precision of a circus bear. “I just worry about you, Carolla. You are too nice."
Quelle chance! Not only did I get a window seat on the plane, but the two other seats beside me were free.
Fermez la porte. Ne prenez plus de voyageurs. Fermez la porte.
(FAIR-may lah PORT. Nuh pray-NAY ploo duh voy-ah-JERS. FAIR-may lah PORT)
"Please shut the door... Do not take on any more passengers. Shut the door."
My luck was soon converted into an opportunity for philanthropy when one of the flight attendants asked me if I would be willing to change to another seat where I'd still have one empty beside me. "You see, my parents are on this flight, and I want to make them a leetle more comfortable." Well, who can refuse someone's parents? Although I moved out of the range of the handsome young steward wearing the electric green John Lennon spectacles (the Corsair company dress codes are less than rigid on the frontier stations), I got practically next door to the main exit, and the stewardess in question is now my personal slave. I got nuts before anyone else, she keeps snagging me tots of champagne from first class...
The pattern of lights below as we cross the Central Valley look like a ride at Disneyland, some sort of "Our Great Nation" diorama. I'm so lucky.