They’re strange places.  Germ incubators, marvels of technology, and tests of any rational person’s patience.
That’s because, while no one wants to be talked to on a plane, we’re all connected to each other in the flying tubes.  What one person does affects another.  Blow up the bathroom, and we all suffer.
And if you bring your four children, all under the age of 7, we all gotta put up with them.
This was a flight from Atlanta to RDU.  Six hour drive.  Now, I felt super lazy about flying, but I was tired.  I imagine the parents in question were tired, too.  But you don’t need to share what’s making you tired with the rest of us.  You didn’t see me doing a show on the plane, did you?
So I had four critters behind me, and you know critters can’t be together without acting up.  Admittedly, these kids weren’t dreadful.  That said, why roll the dice with the rest of us, ha?  If it’s less than eight hours, pack up the minivan and leave us alone.  Thanks.
Now, let’s talk about the funny of the trip.  Some dude with an S-curl was sitting next to me.  That was humor in and of itself.  But right before the plane takes off, dude starts stirring next to me.  I look over, and what has he done?
Put on a fur coat.
It was almost 70 degrees in Atlanta today.  My flight took off at 6.  It was not fur weather.
And what was his hand?  A clear plastic hanging bag with his clothes.  I’m reluctant to say “bag” because that wasn’t what it was.
So you such a baller that you wear a fur on the plane, but you can’t afford a hanging bag?
The friendly skies.  The friendly friggin’ skies.