Airborne Corpulence

The gentleman in Seat 31E on the April 20 8pm flight from ORD to PDX, should be paying for part of my seat. Here's how I see it:

I understand that airline travel is not supposed to be comfortable or luxurious. You pay airlines a few hundred dollars. For this number you get to deal with sub-human customer service representatives (with a few wonderful people sprinkled in...just to keep you hoping!), forced to stand in no fewer than three long lines, poked and prodded by TSA primates who seem able to miss handguns aplenty, but will sniff out every last four ounce bottle of shampoo. If you survive this, you get crammed like sardines into a flying tin germ trap. That makes sense.

But here's the problem; these seats have a maximum width. Unfortunately, some of the people who inhabit them do not. And lest you think I'm being harsh, Gentle Reader, we're not talking about folks who are "overweight", or "carrying a few dozen extra pounds", or even "obese." If an NFL lineman gave any advice to the gentleman in Row 31, it would be, "Dude, you need to lay off the double-thickburgers!"

Here's where we get into the unique properties of fat. You see, in copious amounts fat behaves like a liquid, spilling over the cusp of whatever is feebly attempting to contain it -- in this case, an armrest. And because one can't pull one's scapulae together for an entire cross-country flight, occasionally one's elbow relaxes and sinks ... into a sea of simple carbohydrates only barely covered by sweat-damp polo.

This, my friends, is not a healthy feeling.

As such, about 25% of my seat was uninhabitable. I feel that the gentleman in the middle should definitely pick up the tab.

by popular demand...

By popular demand, photos from the ROC->PDX roadtrip.

roundabout trip

So here we go - I'm currently sitting in the Atlanta airport, en route to Rochester from Vienna. This is the segment of the season that alternates between Europe and the Deep South -- Atlanta GA, Germany, Austria, then Charlotte NC. Two North American Cups, two World Cups, all in five weeks.

T-minus three days. In that three days, I need to:
- Make my entire life fit (with the exceptions of cat, bike and fencing bag) into my Pontiac Vibe.
- Do a week's worth of work, and figure out a future of contract work with my employer.
- Attend two going-away parties, one of which is 2.5 hours away.

No sweat. And if that gets accomplished, I'll roadtrip back from Hamilton Ontario at 4am on Thursday, hop a plane to Charlotte, coach at the Junior Olympics. My plane arrives back in Rochester at 5pm on Tuesday. If I'm back in a timely fashion, all my worldly possessions go into the back of the car, and I'm off!

The timetable looks something like this:
- Drive until I can drive no longer; hopefully this means I get to Indianapolis on Wednesday morning.
- Spend Wed/Thu/Fri with parents and Indy friends.
- Leave Sat morning (early). Make it to Lawrence, KS by evening.
- Leave Sun morning (early). Make it to Denver, CO by evening.
- Get K from the Denver airport.
- Drive to Portland!

As previously mentioned - no sweat!

I suspect this segment of life will be heavily powered by Brawndo, and thank the intelligent designer that my caffeine tolerance should be way down at this point. The over-under on all-nighters this week is 2, but I can't see Vegas being willing to play -- after that "Super Bowl" debacle, I suspect the house's appetite for risk has to be way down.