I spent a good chunk of yesterday getting home to
the Silicon Valley from Sedona—from about 1030 to 1700, door to door. And of
course I have a couple of observations on this process.
USAir has to be one of the saddest carriers still
limping along, flying the most dilapidated aircraft that actually make it into
the air. Their flight attendants do not inspire confidence when they can’t even
read that flight safety announcement.
(The one from Flagstaff to Phoenix seriously had the card in front of her face, and she still couldn’t get it right.)
The thing about spending the entire day on airplanes
where they give you nothing to eat but a packet of pretzels is that, with only
a couple of toaster waffles in you, you arrive home absolutely empty, but too
tired to cook anything.
Thank God for TJ’s holiday-only “handmade” tamales
that you can nuke for a couple of minutes.
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