High Times

After a week of my mom’s food, babies galore, and some air-conditioned rest, I’m back to the ol’ NYC grind. My time home went entirely too fast. I feel odd writing about my trip when I was hanging out with most of the blog’s readership. However, Graham insisted. He likes the “shout outs.” Check.

I did learn an important lesson on the trip – the cheapest flight is not always the best flight. The cheapest flight does, however, always guarantee a cast of characters on board. On the flight to Atlanta, I sat next to a real winner. While already in the air, the Atlanta airport was shut down due to bad weather. We took a few laps around Georgia waiting for it to reopen, but low fuel forced us to land in Columbus. Once on the ground, my row-mate proceeded to throw a genuine hissy fit on the phone with his family that included one too many f-words for my taste. Trying not to make eye contact, but unable not to look in his direction, I saw that he had a High Times in his lap with a joint sandwiched between two pages. For him, it marked the article he didn't quite finish about the best artificial heat lamps. For me, it marked my loss of faith in airport security.

Somewhere between Columbus and New York, I remembered that I had concert tickets for the next day. The plan seemed a lot more reasonable before I spent a long evening with the president of Snoop Dogg’s fan club. But, I sucked it up and Whitney, Jennifer, Sarah, and I joined the throngs of lesbians and hippies at the band shell in Prospect Park. Minutes after staking our place in the crowd, it began pouring rain. So here’s the scene – I’m running on four hours sleep, still in my work clothes, cold and wet, anticipating having to soon use a porta-potty, and well, a little cranky. As it turns out, the skies cleared, the plastic/non-flushing toilet was not so bad, and Feist was quite charming. Perhaps not $35 I would spend again, but well worth it.

I’m reaching my four paragraph blog limit, so I must bid you adieu. If I wasn’t so tired (and a bit homesick), I would have some Full House-style ending to wrap this up for you. If one comes to me today while I’m solving the world’s cereal advertising problems, I promise to add it later.