Showing posts with label Airport. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Airport. Show all posts

Thursday, November 05, 2009

Citizen At-Large (Two Disc Special Edition) (2009)


By RICK RANTAMAKI http://rantamaki.blogspot.com


Normally, I’d have deemed this movie “rental-worthy”, but the audio commentary alone sets this flick apart. Truly a classic. Check it out. . .


Citizen At-Large (Two Disc Special Edition) (2009) The hilarious misadventures of an ill-prepared, middle-class white male caught in a struggle between perception and reality. Now available on DVD and Blu-ray.

Cast: Countless B-List celebrities
Director(s): Warren Fillbergh, Niles Moore
Screenwriter: Rick Rantamaki
MPAA Rating: PG-13 (Parental Guidance Suggested)
Features: With Audio Commentary – Rick Rantamaki (Writer) – Warren Fillbergh (Director) – Kip Girard (Voice-over)
Runtime: 214 minutes

OPENING SEQUENCE

BEDROOM – PREDAWN

[Fade-in with sound of alarm clock beeping]

Hand reaches from beneath the covers and blindly swats alarm clock. It’s 4:30AM.

[Begin rapid montage]

Feet land on floor. Eyes are rubbed with both palms. Rise and stretch. Shower door opens. Shower handle turned. Brushing teeth. Shaving cream. Hair mussing. Buttoning shirt. Tie shoes. Kiss sleeping wife.

CHILD’S BEDROOM
Tuck-in and kiss sleeping child.

KITCHEN
Retrieve bottle of water from refrigerator. Grab keys and cell phone on counter.

HOUSE EXTERIOR
A silhouette stands before an opening garage door.

INTERIOR TRUCK
Water bottle is set into the center console. Turn of the key. Dashboard illuminates.

[Begin “Life of Illusion” by Joe Walsh]

HOUSE EXTERIOR [STREET VIEW]
Pickup truck pulls out of driveway and onto the street beneath the glow of a streetlamp.

[begin opening credits]

Pickup truck winds though various streets and onto freeway. Traffic is heavy and sluggish. Truck follows several exits leading to airport as daybreaks.

AIRPORT PARKING LOT
Pickup truck pulls up to a parking lot gate and rolls down the window. A hand reaches out and snatches a ticket and the gate rises. The truck enters an ocean of parked vehicles and crawls through a succession of camera angles as it prowls multiple levels of an airport parking deck, no empty spaces are available.

WALKWAY ENTERING PARKING DECK
A WOMAN, leading the way with her keys, has a MAN in tow, who’s struggling with multiple, matching, suitcases. The truck stops at the sight of the couple weaving their way through rows of vehicles, then follows.

LONG-TERM PARKING LOT [EXT]
The truck stalks the couple to their vehicle, which is located at the long-term parking lot - almost out of sight of the airport. The MAN fumbles with the baggage as he crams them into the trunk of the car.

INTERIOR OF PICKUP
RICK: (muttering) “Come on,” (looks at his watch, it’s 6:45AM) “Scheez.”

LONG-TERM PARKING LOT [EXT]
[Both vehicles in frame]

WOMAN: “Where’s my lip balm?”

MAN: (while forcing another bag into the trunk) “Maybe. It’s. In. Your purse?”

WOMAN: “No. I just had it out.”

INTERIOR OF PICKUP
RICK’s grips the steering wheel tighter. He draws in a deep breath and closes his eyes.

PARKING DECK
RICK dashes through frame.

AIRPORT MAIN TERMINAL
Terminal is busy, but not crowded. RICK runs up to a vacant check-in kiosk and proceeds to scan his ticket. The kiosk emits an alert tone.

KIOSK: [with robotic voice]
“Ha, ha! Foolish mortal! Did you think you could thwart the system?!”

RICK: “What?”

KIOSK:
“You’re too late for your scheduled flight.”

RICK: (looking at watch) “What?! The flight doesn’t depart for another hour!”

KIOSK:
“I don’t care how long it took you to park in our grossly overfilled parking labyrinth. Go stand in that long line with those fools who insist on bringing WAY too much luggage. And, while you’re waiting for our lethargic airline representative to reschedule your flight, you can think about getting to the airport a lot sooner next time. Ha ha ha! Thank you for flying with us.”

RICK grabs the kiosk and shakes it angrily.

[Freeze scene]

VOICE OVER: “That’s me and this is just a typical Monday.”

[soundtrack lowers]


RR: Is this thing on?

[an unknown voice clicks in, “We’re recording.” click]

RR: Uh, hi… hi everybody, I’m Rick Rantamaki… I’m the screenwriter for “Citizen At-Large.

WF: And I’m Warren Fillbergh, the director. We’re also expecting Kip Girard, who provided the voice-over for this film, to show up any minute, but since we only have the studio ‘till noon, we’ll have to start without him. So. . . Rick, I understand you’re a virgin in the realm of audio commentary.

RR: Yes I am, Warren. . . please be gentle.

WF: I’ll try.

RR: You know, when my agent called about this gig, my initial reaction was to fake an illness.

WF: No kidding?

RR: Yeah, I figured; there’s no way I can go on and on about this movie without driving someone insane. . . namely myself.

WF: Ah, it’s not that bad; I do these all the time. Besides, the only people who listen to DVD commentaries are out-of-work actors and prison guards.

RR: Heh. . . yeah, you’re probably right. I tend to blow things out of proportion.

WF: Just think of it as an afternoon of watching movies with friends, except they don’t mind when you talk over the action.

RR: And those guys over there with the headsets aren’t government informants.

WF: Does paranoia run deep in your family?

RR: Only on my parent's side.

WF: Okay. . . perhaps we should focus on the movie then, eh?

RR: Oh yeah, the movie. . . you know, this is my first opportunity to see it. I didn’t realize you guys recorded the commentaries before the movie even hits the theaters.

WF: It’s common practice nowadays.

RR: Huh. Well, this opening parking lot sequence. . . uh. . . helps build tension, which most travelers are, uh. . . familiar with. . .

WF: Sure, and an interesting note about this particular scene is that Jacob Wagner, the actor playing the lead character here, never drove a vehicle before in his entire life.

RR: What?! Are you serious?

WF: Yep, he grew up someplace where the use of automobiles was prohibited.

RR: What, is he Amish or something?

WF: I think. . . or maybe he’s from Brooklyn, I don’t remember.

RR: He must’ve picked it up pretty quick, though; maneuvering around in a tight parking lot like that. . .

WF: Actually, he’s not the one driving.

RR: Oh, that’s his double?

WF: No, no, that’s him behind the wheel. He’s one of those “method actor” types who insists on “being in the moment” – you know how actors can be. So, we had to disguise the stunt driver as a passenger seat.

RR: But this film is loaded with road scenes, wouldn’t an actor with driving experience made filming easier?

WF: Well, yeah, but in order to find someone to play this part – which, I was informed this morning, is the character who’s is supposed to represent you, right?

RR: Yeah.

WF: We needed an unknown actor who could also come across as a naïve oaf who’s constantly surprised by the world around him… and women would naturally avoid.

RR: Uh-huh.

WF: Yeah, well, we couldn't find one. So, the makeup department was forced to recede Jacob's hairline a bit and provide him with an overbite appliance before we finally achieved the desired “look”.

RR: Yeah, I. . . I see. . . ah. . . perhaps we shouldn’t dwell on the casting details. . . uh, this. . . this movie is based on my book, “Mental Notes: From the Brink of Reality”, which, I believe is still available through most major book outlets.

WF: Really? Huh. I never heard of the book.

RR: Wh-
What?

WF: I never knew there was a book.

RR: You didn’t know there was a book?

WF: (undecipherable)

RR: It spent 14-weeks atop the bestseller list for, “American Literature for the Clinically Insane”. It’s prominently listed in the opening credits. How could you NOT know about my book?

WF: Well, as a rule, I don’t read much.

RR: You, you don't read— c'mon, even if you haven’t read it, surely you’ve seen me pimping it on the talk show circuit last summer.

WF: I don’t watch much TV.

RR: Really? And the morning radio shows?

WF: I find them distracting.

RR: I. . . I’m stunned. I. . . I don’t know what to say.

WF: What’s the big deal?

RR: What’s the big deal?! You’re telling me that you agreed to direct a movie based on a book you’ve never heard of?

WF: Yeah.

RR: Written by a guy you’ve never met?

WF: I wouldn’t say that; we met in the lobby.

RR: I meant before today. We’ve never met before today.

WF: Well, since you put it that way, then— Heyyyyyy Kip! Glad to see you could make it.

KG: Sorry I’m late fellas, but I passed the studio three times before I realized my GPS was in my other car.

RR: Hi there Kip, nice to finally meet you.

KG: Uh, hi. . . and you are?

RR: I’m Rick. . . Rick Rantamaki. . . I’m the screenwriter. . . the guy who wrote the book. . . the guy you represented with the voice-over. . .

KG: Ohhh. . . huh, y'know, I thought you’d be much shorter.

RR: Why’s that?

KG: I dunno. I see you guys started without me. Have I missed anything?

WF: Not really. Well, Rick here was just talking about some book he wrote.

KG: Oh, you wrote a book? That’s lovely. Does anyone mind if I take the last croissant? I haven’t had a bite to eat all morning.

WF: No, no, go right ahead.

RR: It’s not just some book, it’s the book this movie is based on.

KG: Really? What’s it called?

RR:Mental Notes: From the Brink of—”

KG: Never heard of it.

RR: Jeez, alright already; I get it. Nobody’s read my book.

WF: There’s no need to get bent out of shape, Rick.

RR: Huh? Wait a minute. . . I’m not saying I don’t appreciate your efforts Warren, but why? Why would a premiere Hollywood director, such as yourself, with a slew of box office hits, who can pretty much choose any screenplay, opt to invest his time and resources in a screenplay he knows absolutely nothing about?

WF: Look Rick, I don’t know what preconceived notions you have about the film making process, but let me tell you, here in Hollywood, nobody reads screenplays.

RR: What? Really?

WF: Really. Screenplays are NOT what fuels movie productions, concepts are. Your book, however “wonderful” it may be, was reduced to a concept. Its premise, its texture, the narrative format; all of it was basically concentrated down to a few lines of text. Those lines, those few measly lines of text, are what swayed the studio executives to fund this production. So, although we’re required to inform the audience the movie is based upon your book, in actuality, this film only slightly resembles your book.

RR: Resembles my book?

WF: Yeah. When the studio green-lights a concept, they feed it to their own screenwriters who then adapt it to accommodate whatever interests the studio is currently trying to satisfy. We like to call the process, rehydration.

RR: Huh, I had no idea.

WF: I know it sounds a little harsh, but you’ve got to consider how many screenplays are out there. If we took the time to read them all—

KG: We wouldn’t have anytime to lavish ourselves with awards.

[both Kip and Warren share a laugh]

RR: Has it always been this way?

WF: Pretty much.

RR: So, the box office hits of the past are the result of rehydrated screenplays?

WF: Yeah, most of ‘em.

RR: Even the classics?

WF: Even the classics.

RR: Like… “Citizen Kane”?

WF: Rehydrated from a screenplay about the delusions of traveling snow globe salesman.

RR:Gone with the Wind”?

WF: Rehydrated tale involving a frustrated stable girl and a talking horse.

RR: A talking horse?

WF: With a mustache, like I said, it's not verbatim.

RR: How 'bout “The Wizard of Oz”?

WF: Boy, has that concept gotten some mileage. It was originally rehydrated from a screenplay about a group of disenfranchised dwarves trying to establish a commune within the confines of a dairy farm. Can you believe that? A dairy farm. It was rehydrated again as, “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” and yet again for the movie, “Top Gun”… except they reduced the mob of angry dwarves down to a single midget – who was a natural at flying high-tech jet fighters in unrealistic combat scenarios.

RR: No kidding. I guess that explains why this gunfight scene is in the movie… ‘cause that’s NOT how I got through airport security.

WF: The studio needed an action film for the Holiday Season.

KG: [in his voice-over tone] “In a world where Holiday Magic and Madness collide with ultra-flashy over-the-top pyrotechnical stuff—”

RR: This is nothing like the screenplay I wrote. I mean, c'mon, shoving aside little old ladies just to get to the head of the Starbucks line is completely out of character. . .
and I don’t even drink coffee.

WF: The sponsors love this kind of stuff, Rick. It’s what they’re paying for.

RR: Unbelievable. . . well, then what becomes of the original screenplays?

WF: I think they used to toss them in a landfill just west of Hollywood, but nowadays, in order to be eco-friendly, screenplays are spooled onto tiny rolls, given a spritz of lavender and hung in the bathrooms.

RR: Wha—

KP: Oh yeah, I can lose myself for hours in an MGM stall.

RR: Really?

KP: Yeah, I can’t tell you how many times my legs have fallen asleep in there.

RR: Uh, okay, so. . . uh, why am I even here?

WF: Ha, yeah well. . . the lead actor was unavailable.

RR: The Amish guy?

WF: Yeah, seems he’s busy on the set of “Good Will Flaunting”.

KG: Awww. Jacob’s not coming? Man, I wanted to find out if those stories about his wild escapades on the set were true.

WF: Kip, you’d be amazed how popular that guy was with the ladies.

KG: [again in his deep voice-over tone] “In a world… were innocence and desperate Hollywood sluts collide—

RR: Y’know what, you guys should continue this without me.

WF: Huh? Wait–

RR: No, no. Aside from the concept, I obviously had nothing to do with this film.

WF: But, there’s still 138 minutes left. . .

RR: Can someone please validate my parking?

KG: [still using his voice-over tone] “In a world where parking is free. . .”

WF: Nobody walks out on an audio commentary, Rick.

RR: Well, this'll be a first. Maybe this’ll boost DVD sales. Best of luck guys. [door closes]

WF:
Damn writers!

KG: [voice-over tone] “. . . and the Oscar for best film commentary goes to. . .”

WF: Ah, shut up Kip! Somebody get me Lawrence Fishburn on the phone.



[END OF AUDIO COMMENTARY]



© Copywrite 2009 Rick Rantamaki


Wednesday, August 26, 2009

More Ruminations...

By RICK RANTAMAKI http://rantamaki.blogspot.com


Back by popular demand, even more daily ruminations! (also known as mental vomit) I'm beginning to think these should be printed. . . on toilet paper.


1. "Each time you make a choice, that creates an alternate reality in a new universe.” Snatching the menu from my hands, my wife handed it to the waitress and said, “He’ll have today’s special."

2. Normally just a metaphor, I once found myself in a backwoods bar literally proclaiming, “I don’t want to get into a pissing contest over this.”

3. A recent US market research study revealed that 40 percent of Twitter messages are “pointless babble.” The study went on to say stuff about other things, but I got sidetracked while Twittering updates of my prostate exam.

4. What kinda day are you having when a prostate exam is a humorous convenience?

5. Behold! I’ve been permitted to venture outside – unsupervised.

6. If I could only be half as proud of MY book as the college bookstore is of THEIRS.

7. From today’s Reuters newsfeed – “Cash-strapped Cuba says toilet paper running short” (I dunno, maybe they should print their money on something else.)

8. “…and who brought the water cannon when you needed talked down from that ledge, eh?”

9. From the “Senility’s Surprises Everyone” File: Today, a 60-year-old man was convicted of groping Minnie Mouse during his visit to Walt Disney World. The man claimed he was just trying to locate Minnie’s mouse pad.

10. Can the folks at Oxford Dictionary sue me for plagiarism?

11. Welcome to the South – where the mirrors quiver to the beat of thumping Bibles and the Holy Water is served iced and thickly sweetened!

12. I’ve got raisins on the bran.

13. While making a run for more beer, a brazen drunkard (whose license was revoked because of a previous DUI conviction) attempted to evade police by weaving in and out of traffic on his riding lawnmower. The police chief was later overheard saying, “He thought he was a cut above arrest.”

14. “The Guiding Light” soap opera will end its record 57-year run. Here’s a suggestion for the show’s finale: During a steamy adulterous interlude, the walls of the set fall away exposing a group of monkeys backstage, spinning a wheel labeled: amnesia, plane crash, adultery, evil twin, dream sequence, lost at sea

15. Spellcheck: Can't live with it, can't liv witout et.

16. Nigerian Army attacks Islam . . . with email scam, which promises an all out holy war (provided the Islamist supply the Nigerian Army with an initial stockpile of weapons). “Nobody falls for that crap,” said an Islamic official, unaware of his colleagues ululating in the streets below.

17. “Accountability is not my concern, ‘cause Sunday resets absolve me,” was too wordy for their bumper sticker so they went with, “Born to Pray.”

18. Born to be riled.

19. Dementia: It's where the "YOU ARE HERE" arrow is pointing (and I thought I was in Sane).

20. Mondays: It’s what caffeine is all about.

21. It’s neurotoxin time; a little pick me up to put me down.

22. The necessity for his bicycle helmet wasn’t immediately clear until the well-dressed lad said, “Good afternoon sir, do you realize your inclination towards caffeine is destroying your relationship with Him?”

23. Learning Spanish (the hard way): Apparently, "Emergency Room" means "FREE health clinic" in Spanish. (Hey, this full immersion crap is paying off.)

24. I exist only to satisfy your idea of reality . . . and this is what you make of me?!

25. NASA officials recently admitted they accidentally taped-over Neil Armstrong’s infamous “giant leap” video. That’s right, what was quite possibly the most significant film footage captured by mankind now only contains the ‘79 season opener of Diff’rent Strokes. Just goes to show, you really DON’T want a rocket scientist working the VCR.

26. From the "All Eyes on Us" File: We piled into a booth at a local pancake house. My two sisters and I on one side, mom and dad on the other. Before the waitress could take our orders, mom’s side of the booth collasped with a thunderous snap. Our dad slowly slid down the lopsided bench and into mom. Smiling broadly behind his bushy gray mustache he said, “I like this place, it’s cozy.”

27. According to California tax officials, legalizing pot could generate an estimated $1.4 billion in revenue for the cash-strapped state. The officials went on to say that they plan to continue their analysis some time after the pizza dude arrives.

28. A story my mother liked to recount: A kid in her elementary class raised his hand during a lesson and asked to go to the bathroom. The elderly teacher, who was notoriously hard of hearing, earnestly replied, “You can sharpen it later.”

29. From the Epiphany File of my childhood: “If you have nothing nice to say,” mom once chided, “then don’t say anything at all.” Without a hitch, I responded, “So, tell me more about this sarcasm stuff.”

30. There’re times when age knocks you for a loop. Moments when you realize, life’s happened. And when you’re finally able to refocus, it becomes clear… the message was delivered by a younger generation.

31. Okay, why would anybody publically claim to be Michael Jackson’s cosmetic surgeon?

32. From the Preposterous File: The lab results are in and whadda you know, I'm a child of Michael Jackson too!

33. I politely declined the invitation to attend Michael Jackson’s funeral citing, “He lost touch with me once I started middle school .”

34. An entry on our subdivision’s online forum (verbatim): “how many rules we need ,does wee need all that does we realy think wee need to hold grown ups hand and tell them everything...“ Apparently, I overlooked the Lobotomy Clinic on our amenities list.

35. How many movie trailers does it take till you forget what movie you came to see?

36. The cat continued to clean its paws as the lieutenant sifted through the crime scene. The only witness crouched in the corner, wrapped in a blanket and sobbing. She wasn’t ready to talk. She didn’t need to, because the discarded Scratching Post condom wrapper said it all.

37. Sometimes I even surprise myself, especially when my arm's asleep.

38. From the Distorted Ego File: We waited patiently while the harried clerk attended to some other customers. As the clerk tried to sort out a myriad of requests, she turned to me and mindlessly said, “You're something else.” I turned to my wife and said, “You see, that's what I've been trying to tell you all along.”

39. From the No Respect File: During a workload meeting one of the principals indicated he needed Adam S. for the afternoon, which would temporarily pull Adam S. from Adam B.’s project. So I said, quite cleverly, “Sooo, you’ll be splitting Adams today?” Not one laugh. Not one. For a moment I wondered if perhaps I didn't say it out loud, but the incredulous glares said otherwise.

40. "Why do I keep asking myself questions? I dunno. Do I enjoy interviewing myself? Yes, because it keeps you from asking questions I'm trying to avoid. Can I go on like this? Absolutely. I'm prepared to do this for as many seasons as they'll pay me." - Kate Gosselin

41. Shhhhh... I'm secretly controlling the plane with my cell phone. Flaps up, flaps down, flaps up, flaps down, flaps up...

42. Do you think the airlines train their pilots to mumble morosely over the intercom?

43. Tough Crowd: I've tried several times, but no one at this airport is amused by my Herve Villechaize impersonation.

44. Alright, I kept runnin' into this same guy in the airport restroom (he was singin' and pissin' and carrying on) and I thought he lived there or something, but during my last sortie I figured out it was just a full-length mirror.

45. Alone with my thoughts (which violates a restraining order somewhere).


© Copywrite 2009 Rick Rantamaki

Friday, July 20, 2007

Enjoy Your Flight

By Rick Rantamaki http://rantamaki.blogspot.com
Update: This article was published in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution on 2007-08-05.

ATLANTA, GA - Whenever possible, I avoid flying. Not because I fear it, but rather, it’s a pain in the [buttocks]. The whole experience sucks, from the parking lot, to security, to the congested concourse, to the cramped seating, to sub-standard in-flight service, it all sucks. However, there are just some circumstances where flying is the only option - and they know it.

If you’re flying, you’d better get there early. It’s not like the old days when you could arrive an hour before take-off and have plenty of time to chat with the leisurely folks at the ticket counter. Oh no, if you’re not there three hours before departure, the check-in kiosk will refuse to print your boarding pass and laugh at you for trying to check-in only fifty minutes prior to take-off.

"Ha! Ha! Foolish mortal. Did you think you could thwart the system?"

This would be embarrassing if it weren’t for the fact that your kiosk has joined a chorus of other kiosks already laughing derisively at a half-dozen, or so, other customers.

The synthetic voice echoes through the terminal, "I don’t care that it took you an hour to park in our grossly overfilled parking labyrinth, go stand in that long line with the fools who insist on bringing WAY too much luggage. And, while you’re waiting for our lethargic airline representative to reschedule your flight, you need to think about getting to the airport A LOT sooner next time. Enjoy your flight. Ha! Ha!"

I’m paraphrasing…a little.

Security, now that’s fun. Well, actually it’s not a joking matter. I would make light of it, but the feds will track me down and I’ll end up naked in an interrogation room with Vaseline dripping out of places it shouldn’t and Katie Couric waiting for me to come out and share my feelings. So lets just say there’s nothing unusual about a crowd of people waiting, shoeless, for some high school drop out to half-heartedly scrutinize their personal effects while she talks with her co-worker about her new designer fingernails. Nothing at all.

Okay, now that we’re through security, lets check out the concourse. Atlanta is "the world’s busiest passenger airport". So, you would think that with such a grand distinction our airport would want to make an equally grand impression. You know, take the opportunity to display posters, statues, and murals depicting Atlanta’s storied past and its diverse modern economy. Well, that’s not how our airport looks. Judging by our airport’s current interior decorations, you would think you would soon be stepping out onto the plains of the Serengeti. Ah, screw diversity.

Now you’ve got to hurry and get on that concourse train because, according to the cyborg voice, "the doors will close and not reopen". What happens to the body parts caught by these doors? Well, rumor has it they’re ground into the shape of honey roasted peanuts and served lightly salted. This is unverified…but if it were true, there’s nothing unusual about it. Nothing at all.

Now you’ve got to wait an hour, or so, before you can board your flight. During this time you’re subjected to a constant barrage of security alerts: "Attention passengers, Homeland Security has issued security threat level Orange. There is a high risk of a terrorist attack. So pucker up and enjoy your ulcer." and the classic "Never leave your baggage unattended", which should be modified to "Never leave your child unattended, because the waiting passengers will take that opportunity to discipline your little hellion".

Hey, it’s time to board. "Now boarding all rows…but yours." Is what they might as well say.

Somehow, I always manage to be among the last to board. There’s actually a benefit to being the last one on the plane, at least I don’t have to go through the agony of watching all the skinny people sit in other rows as the guy that has to squeeze down the aisle sideways makes a bee-line for the seat right next to me. (I’ve ceased to be amazed by this phenomenon years ago.) Besides, when I’m the last to board, that fat guy gets a complete workout just trying to let me in. Yeah, it’s a brief moment of satisfaction before he uses me as an armrest.

Here’s something odd, I think the airline accidentally added some extra seats on the plane. I’m sure these seats were farther apart before. Come to think of it, didn’t the 727 originally have fourteen rows of seats? Yeah, and you had to get up and walk to retrieve the ‘Sky Shopper’ magazine from the seatback in front of you. Now that same ‘Sky Shopper’ magazine is ‘technically’ the only thing that’s keeping us from spooning each other. (A little turbulence and I might unintentionally become a member of the mile-high club.)

Speaking of the good ol’ days, remember when the stewardess used to be amiable? They were the angels of the sky, with their elegance, grace, and beauty. At the very least, if the plane were plummeting to Earth, their composed, heart-warming, smiles could relax any sphincter. But, not today. Now the ‘flight attendants’ are truck stop waitress rejects with attitude. (You can’t say ‘stewardess’ any more either, or they’ll give you an ‘eat-[poo]’ look that even your kid will feel three states away.)

My ‘flight attendant’ is trying to reach over the fat guy to hand me my drink, but he’s pretending she’s not there - even though she just rammed him with her cart, twice. Well, she’s not really giving me a ‘drink’ per se, it’s just a plastic cup containing three ice cubes lightly coated with the flavor of my choice - I imagine the business class passengers get the whole can. She tosses me a complimentary packet of honey roasted peanuts. I check the label.

Eventually, we reach our destination. As we arrive at the gate, a flurry of cell phones spring to life and when the plane halts, everyone stands. I can’t, I’m trapped in the folds of my seat-mate.

Now we wait. It’s what the airline likes to call, ‘The Dramatic Pause’. They won’t open the exit door until everyone is sufficiently irritated. Only then will the pass-and-review process begin - this is when the flight crew scans the departing passengers to ensure they’re not trying to sneak off with one of their floatational devices (they do make lovely hats).

As I’m heading out to retrieve my rental car, I catch a faint, synthetic, echo from the main terminal.

"Ha! Ha! Foolish mortal. Did you think you could thwart the system?"

I have a return flight at six.