Notes from the Bay

Years ago in China, I was riding a bus that was winding its way down out of the mountains of Yunnan. At one point, the person sitting next to the window on my right began to vomit. After a minute or so, the guy sitting in front of me joined in. They were then accompanied by the woman sitting across the aisle to my left. I was surrounded by a symphony of retching and heaving. So I began to direct it, using my hysterical laughter to lead the group throught the hard parts, collasping into giggles when they'd subside. What else could I do but howl.

I had a similar situation on my flight over the Pacific. I had hoped to sleep a little, to ignore the terror I feel at flying, stomach in knots at the absurd notion than an object weighing this many tons can stay up this high for 10 hours. I mean it defies physics man, doesn't it?
But sleep I was denied, first by the screaming infant who would occasionally shout "Papa!" into my subconcious. Then the man sitting behind me, violently coughing nonstop from take-off to touchdown. God knows what wonderful things he shared with the rest of us.
Anyway, flying the Friendly Skies, I remembered the old ad that featured Gene Hackman and Rhapsody in Blue. It was made ironic by the fact that Gershwin's original inspiration for the tune was a train journey he once took.
During the flight I was happy to finally catch Oceans 12, with its wonderful throw-away dialogue. The Julia Roberts gag was especially genius.

So I've been in the States now for a couple hours. I'm getting fatter by the minute, arteries firming up. Once I get my anti-depressants, I'll sue my parents for all my own flaws. It's good to be back.
But what am I doing here? I'm down in the Mission, man. I'm gonna go get me a burrito...


On the turntable: "The Hopper Room" (soundtrack, of sorts)
On the nighttable: W. Somerset Maugham, "Far East Tales"
Gunther Grass, "My Century"