A Muse with a View

I have traveled quite a bit in the past few months, and every time I get on a plane I am reminded that the world of travelers needs a list of 10 commandments.

The 10 Commandments of Travel

1. Thou shalt not walk through security with a fifth of Tanquerey.

I recently flew from L.A. to Portland and had to go through a security line that was a mix of passengers leaving on domestic flights and international flights. I saw a guy walk right by the bin where you pour out the liquids and get busted for having a fifth of Tanquerey in his backpack. He said he thought the ban was on water only.

2. Thou shalt not call your spouse on a cell phone as soon as the plane hits the tarmac.

It never fails The plane touches down, everyone reaches for their phones, and one idiot calls someone and loudly announces, “We just landed.” Have you heard of text messaging? Why do we all have to hear your entire conversation with your spouse about the lack of tasty snacks on the plane? The plane will be at the gate in five minutes. Please don’t torture the rest of us while we are all trapped in the fuselage with you.

3. Thou shalt not stand in line to board the plane if your group or row number has not been called.

Hey you with the roller bag and the boarding pass that says Group 5, go sit down! The flight attendant said First Class, MVP, and Group 1. Trying to get on board before your group is called will not win you a prize, get you more peanuts, or even get you space in the overhead bin, because the gate agent is going to call you out when you get to the podium. The gate agent comes on the PA and says, “We have a gate crasher at Gate 87. Someone isn’t listening. I’m sorry sir, but you will now go to the end of the line and board last,” as she takes out a ruler and slaps the back of your hand.

4. Thou shalt not bring stinky food on the plane.

Smart travelers know to bring their own food on the plane unless they want to be stuck with a “picnic pack” for dinner. Smart travelers also realize the air in the plane is circulated around and around, and if you bring a stinky curry on the plane you aren’t the only one who has to smell it for the remainder of the flight. Sandwich good. Curry not good.

5. Thou shalt not walk through the metal detector with metal.

It’s called a metal detector for a reason! Why do you have five dollars in change in your pocket? A smart traveler will keep her eyes and ears open for people wearing belts, jingling change in their pockets, and carrying a raft of TSA infractions, and will avoid going through the same scan line.

6. Thou shalt not block the jetway with three children and a stroller.

You managed to get your kids on the plane and check the stroller at the jetway. Why must you block the jetway for everyone while you try to organize your stroller, your diaper bag and three cranky kids? The courteous thing to do is to allow everyone else to exit the plane first so you can take your time with your kids.

7. Thou shalt be prepared if you are traveling with children.

I can’t tell you how many times I have seen parents get on a plane with their kids and have nothing for them to eat, and nothing for them to do. The key is distraction people. No kid wants to sit in a seat with a seatbelt on for hours on end with nothing to do. If you don’t entertain them they will entertain themselves, which usually involves flipping the tray up and down and kicking the seat in front of them.

8. Though shalt not stand sideways in the aisle.

Remember that blog I wrote a long time ago called “Crotches and Asses?” The next time you’re standing sideways in the aisle of a plane, take a look at the view you’re giving the passengers on either side of you. Yep. Everything below the belt is right at eye level with that poor sap who chose the aisle seat.

9. Thou shalt not bring reading material into the lavatory.

I was recently on a flight where a passenger picked up a book off the flight attendant’s jump seat and brought it into the lavatory. That is disturbing on two levels. First off, that book belonged to a flight attendant, and I’m sure she was really grossed out with the fact that a passenger brought it into the lavatory in the first place. And second, the flight was less than two hours. Why does anyone need to spend time in “the library” on a short flight? Do your business before you board. Note: passengers on flights coming back from Mexico are exempt from this rule.

10. Thou shalt not hog armrest real estate.

What is it with people, especially businessmen, who sit down and spread out like they’re in an easy chair in their living room. Don’t give me the flight elbow! That armrest is a mere two inches wide, and one inch of that is mine!

Common Sense

Most of the commandments are just common sense. If you’re going to fly I suggest you do the following:

• Review the rules of your chosen airline on their website. Check to see what the cut off is for baggage check-in, fees for checked bags, and whether or not there will be food for purchase on the flight.
• Review the TSA website, because you never know what they will ban next. Their website even has tips for how to gett hrough the line faster. http://www.tsa.gov/
• Review the 10 Commandments of Travel, because you never know when you might run into me on a flight!

Enjoy your trip!

Originally published on MySpace on September 11, 2009

I was running along the waterfront late yesterday afternoon, when I spied the KOIN 6 Local news van. My friend, and former news anchor, Anne Jaeger just started working for KOIN again, so I figured she just might be in the van. So, I made a detour over to see if I could find her.

She was indeed working yesterday afternoon, and she immediately asked me if I would go on camera and answer a couple of questions she was asking people on the street. I declined, only because I had been running for an hour in the 80+ degree heat, and I looked like it.

However, I did ask her what questions she was asking people. One of the questions was, how did the events of September 11th, 2001, change the way you view life and live your life?

I looked at Anne and said, “Anne, my answer to that question is so boring. It didn’t change my views at all.” And it’s true.

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I have always lived my life like I’m on borrowed time. We all have a finite amount of time on this planet, and the truth is that none of us knows exactly how long we have. So you can put everything off until “things get better,” or you can put nothing off and live life like this minute is your last.

The events of September 11, 2001, were tragic, and my heart goes out to the people who lost their lives and lost loved ones. I was lucky enough to visit Ground Zero last November. This is my 2-minute video.

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Originally posted on MySpace on August 6, 2009

I thought I posted this blog yesterday, but I think my Internet connection dropped before it actually posted.

Anyway, I spent 12 hours in the car with my three kids and Lili the Wonder Pug driving to our family cabin in Tahoe. We were coming across the Mt. Lassen Highway (44) from Redding (California) to Susanville when I saw something that looked like a large thunderhead.

The view from a few miles away.

According to the news this was dubbed the Sugarloaf fire, and was started by a lightening strike.

Originally published on MySpace on June 24, 2009

As most of you know I went to Finland a few weeks back, and then I went to the Bay Area for a week of SQL Server bootcamp. In those two and a half weeks I flew eight flights and had eight seatmates. Some were interesting, some just slept. Here’s the rundown…

Portland to Washington DC
I usually use the first leg of any long trip to catch up on the sleep I haven’t been getting for the past five years. My seatmate had the same plan. I can’t tell you his name, because he slept the whole time. Me? I slept a bit and then watched “He’s Just Not That Into You” in Spanish, because I wanted to bone up on my Spanish since I was on my way to Finland. Oh wait, wrong country. I was bored okay!?

Washington DC to Copenhagen (that’s in Denmark people)
This was an SAS flight, and it was going to be awesome. Yeah, that’s what he said. I had an aisle seat in the middle of the plane, which is a strategic place for food and beverage consumption. We left the gate on time, got in line for takeoff, and then the dreaded announcement over the PA.

“We’re going to be on the tarmac for a while here. There’s weather over the Northeast portion of the United States and Canada, and all flights heading North have been grounded. We’ll be shutting the engines down for a while.”

This stuff always happens right after a big air diaster, and the Air France flight that broke apart in rough weather was most certainly the reason for this extreme caution. Because you know most airlines will fly you through a snowstorm with thumder and golfball size hail.

So we sat, and sat, and sat. An hour into it they finally rolled out the drink cart and the chocolate! And we started having happy hour in my area of the plane.

Next to me, Stuart, a cardiologist from Virginia, on his way to Stockholm. He went to med school in Belgium and had lots of stories.

Across the aisle from me, Hanna, from Finland, who was flying to the same little city (Turku) in Finland that I was. She was drinking whiskey because she had a sore throat. And when she found out I was on my way to Laitila she told me about a famous Laitila dialect poet named Heli Laaksonen.

In the row in front of me, Carrie Ann, the head chef of Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines. She was on her way to Turku as well, which happens to be a huge cruise ship building city, to check out the kitchens on the newest (world’s largest) cruise ship. She was going for ONE day! She also used to be the chef at one of my favorite restaurants in Saratoga, CA, called the Plumed Horse.

Next to Carrie Ann was Eduardo, who looked like a rock and roll guy, and was in fact traveling with his band to tour in Sweden. He taught us all how to swear in Portuguese.

We sat on the tarmac for three hours, and had multiple drinks in our makeshift happy hour in the aisle of that Airbus. The three of us who were going to Turku discussed how we would get there from Copenhagen if we missed our connection (we did miss our connection).

Copenhagen to Stockholm
SAS’s solution to our missed connection from Copenhagen to Turku was to fly us to Stokholm. An extra leg, and extra five hours. Bonus! My seatmate on that flight slept, so I can’t tell you who he was.

We arrived in Stockholm and had some time to kill so Hanna and I had a snack and did some duty free shopping. She was bringing home a bottle of whiskey for her husband.

Stockholm to Turku (Finland)
It was one of those puddle jumper prop jobs where you wonder if they’re powered by a hamster wheel.

I arrived in Turku, and my bag went to Barcelona. Lucky bag!

Turku to Copenhagen
Boring. No fancy seatmate.

Copenhagen to Chicago
My seatmate, Adam, was an unemployed 25-year old marriage and family counselor in L.A. who had been in Copenhagen visiting his brother who decided to live abroad for a year. My first question to Adam was, “So Adam, why do people get divorced?” This 25-year old with little life experience gave me a surprising answer, “Because everyone wants instant gratification. No one has the patience for marriage anymore.”

We spent the first hour debating marriage and relationships, and then we both slept the rest of the way.

Chicago to Portland
I honestly don’t remember this flight. I do believe I passed out with my mouth open, and a bit of drool hanging on. I was tired.

Portland to San Jose (CA)
My seatmate was a healer who lived and worked in Monterey and Santa Cruz, two very healer-friendly cities. He was on his way back from a healing conference in Vancouver, BC. He told me my frozen shoulder was caused by emotional trauma, which is probably true considering what I went through in the past year.

San Jose to Portland
My seatmate asked one question, “What kind of dog is in there?” and that was it. I had Lili the Wonder Pug stuffed into a carrier under the seat.

Sometimes you hit the jackpot, and sometimes you get stuck. Ever had an interesting seatmate? A really smelly one? One who wouldn’t shut up for the 32-hour trip to Hyderabad? do tell!

Originally published on MySpace on November 19, 2008.

One of the most incredible nights on my trip to NYC with CB was spent standing in Times Square on election night. It was totally unplanned. Impromptu. Just a random walking destination after dinner that night. We had no idea what we were walking into.

Times Square…

Arriving in Times Square in my vintage Value Village coat…

In awe…

..

The crowd…

The ABC billboard…

The clock strikes 11pm East Coast time, and the polls are closed on the West Coast. Barack Obama is declared the winner and the crowd goes wild.

My personal favorite taken in the Dulles airport…

All photos by Cabana Boy.

Technorati Tags: Times Square, Obama, NYC, Election

Originally published on MySpace on November 10, 2008.

CB and I spent our last day in Manhattan exploring and being tourists. We went to Wall Street, Ground Zero, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and when we couldn’t stand any longer, a little restaurant near Central Park called Bella Cucina (E 87^th Street and Lexington Avenue).

We were seated at a small table by the window in a sort of enclosed sidewalk patio area. The view to the street was blocked by a row of large white trailers, because we were sitting smack in front of the staging area for a film called “Solitary Man.” We tried to guess who would star in a movie called Solitary Man, and CB suggested Russell Crowe. I was thinking it was probably some older actor who plays angst well. Someone like Bill Murray. We finally gave in and looked the movie up on IMDB and found it stars Michael Douglas, Susan Sarandon, Mary-Louise Parker, Jenna Fischer and Danny DeVito. Hmmm, could be interesting.

Back to the story… We perused the menu and were pleasantly surprised to find that the wine list contained bottles of wine that ranged from $25-$35 a bottle, which seemed to be completely unheard of in New York. We ordered a bottle of Chianti Classico, an appetizer and our entrees, and settled in for a nice dinner.

My friends will tell you that I’m a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, especially if I’m drinking on an empty stomach. I was getting giggly before I even finished the first glass of wine. It was at that point that I noticed the table cloth was actually a sheet of butcher paper, and I whipped out my ballpoint pen to get creative.

I challenged CB to a limerick contest, and we both started writing furiously. The idea was to write fast and furiously without editing.

I finished my first limerick, and began to read it out loud to CB, barely able to finish each line because I was laughing so hard. Here’s the first limerick:

I once had a friend named Mike

Who rode around all day on a trike.

When asked if the seat

Made mince of his meat

He said, “Not anymore than I’d like.”

And here’s me cracking myself up.

I think this was CB’s first limerick for me:

There once was a girl named Kelly

Who had the most extraordinary jelly.

It swayed and it shook

And wobbled amok

And made nervous the whole of New Delhi.

By this time we were in hysterics. I then asked CB to give me a word to include in a limerick. He said, “Antidisestablishmentarianism,” to which I replied, “Uh no. How about a word I’d actually use.”

“Okay,” he said, “Makeup.” Ahh that’s better. I gave him the word “bustier” and here’s what we came up with.

Makeup

As a makeup artist I know

That on diva’s you have to go slow

Some powder, some gloss

Let them be the boss

Or out the door you will go.

Bustier

Her bustier was full of delights

And her knickers were feathery light

A kiss on her breast

Was always the best

Way to kick off the long summer night.

The evening went on like this until the entire table was covered with drawings and limericks, and the limericks just kept getting raunchier and raunchier as the night wore on. The couple at the table next to us (a mere four feet away) finally asked what was so funny. I told them we were being creative and writing nasty limericks. They were on a Match.com date, and were none too thrilled to be seated next to a loud silly couple like us. Too bad, so sad. As CB would say, “Get over it!”

When the meal was over and the bill was paid, we artfully rolled up our butcher paper full of memories and walked down the street to catch the subway back to the hotel.

Originally published on MySpace on November 8, 2008.

Punking Carl…

The scenario: Anna from St. Petersburg shares a cab with CB from the airport and then he can’t get rid of her.

We arrived at the hotel in the late afternoon, and CB called Carl to tell him he’d meet him in the lobby of the hotel at 5:30pm. When 5:30 rolled around I put on my best Russian accent (not that great but certainly passable), and headed down to the lobby with CB.

I let CB walk ahead and greet Carl, while I stayed back a bit behind a potted plant. I “Anna” then casually walked up to the pair with a sly smile and waited to be introduced.

“Oh, Carl this is Anna,” said CB with a complete poker face. I said hello to Carl and listened to the boys chit chat about where to go and what to do, until CB turned to me and asked, “What would you like to do Anna?”

“I need drink!” I replied in a think accent. “In cab you promised buy me drink.”

“Well, there’s a couple of pubs down the street,” said Carl. “I went to one the other night that was pretty good.”

“Beer?” said CB. “Anna probably wants vodka.”

“Yes, I’m flying all day and need drink vodka,” Anna said.

Carl looked a bit confused by this point, seeing that he had no idea who Anna was or where she came from, and CB wasn’t giving any details. The three of us decided the pub would be fine and headed out of the hotel to find it.

When we got to the first street corner Carl said, “My cousin married a Russian girl. From Moscow I think”

Anna turned to CB, hit him in the shoulder and said, “See! I told you Russian girl very nice. You should marry Russian girl!”

“Where you from again Anna?” asked CB oh so innocently.

“I told you in cab. You remember nothing!” Anna said getting a little irritated.

“Oh that’s right, Leningrad,” said CB.

“No! Not called Leningrad long time. St. Petersburg now,” said Anna with authority.

And on we walked.

When we got close to the pub CB asked Anna what she normally ate in Russia, and what she’d like for dinner. “Borscht? You eat Borscht?”

“Cabbage, potatoes, borscht. I had enough Borscht for lifetime. No more borscht!”

As we approached the front door of the restaurant CB pulled Carl aside, gave him a God-help-me look and said, “I shared a cab with her from the airport and now I can’t get rid of her!”

An angsty Irish waitress greeted us as we entered the pub and showed us to a table in the corner in the back of the pub, which was a good thing because Anna was about to get “drunk” and start getting more forward.

We sat down and looked at the menu, and Anna started asking questions. “What’s dis, chicken fingers? It’s real fingers?” Carl and CB explained that they were not real chicken fingers at all, and that chicken didn’t really have fingers. Anna continued to peruse the menu and ask totally naïve questions about the various food items until the waitress came back.

“What’ll ya be having,” she asked in a lilting Irish accent. CB and Carl each ordered a pint of something, and then CB asked if there was a full bar because Anna wanted vodka. He ordered a vodka tonic for Anna and the waitress rolled her eyes as she walked away.

Anna downs her first vodka tonic…

“I’m feeling tired. I can’t go sister’s house now too late. I stay with you?” Anna said as she put her hand on CB’s thigh.

“No Anna, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said CB.

Carl was getting visibly uncomfortable at this point and starting to sweat.

“You told me in cab you have two beds in room. Yes?” said Anna, pressing CB even more. “I just sleep okay? I sleep in other bed with clothes on. I not want sex with you. You thinking I want sex with you. I don’t.”

I could see Carl’s mind spinning, wanting to find a way to get his work colleague out of this horrible predicament with Anna. “We have a meeting at 9, remember?” he piped up, hoping this would help CB’s case.

“You told me in cab you have two beds. My sister live so far away. Can’t go tonight. I sleep in your room, okay? It’s good. I go home early morning.”

“Carl’s right, we have a meeting at 9. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Anna continued to touch CB’s leg, his arm, his face, and get more “drunk” and persistent. Carl had a look of desperation on his face at this point. CB was having a hard time keeping a straight face and I couldn’t take it anymore, so I “Anna” turned to CB and said, “Daahling. I think you tell Carl what’s going on now.”

“Carl, I’d like to introduce you to my girlfriend Kelly,” said CB. “She does a lot of improv, and she’s not really Russian.”

Carl just looked like he’d been hit with a two-by-four and looked at CB. “No shit!” he mumbled.

In the end we raised our glasses and toasted Carl for being such a good sport. I’m pretty sure he has yet to recover from being punked by CB and The Muse.

Originally published on MySpace on November 7, 2008.

Cabana Boy (CB) and I had to rise before dawn to make our 7:49am flight to NYC on Tuesday morning. There was nary a mention of my Ford F-150 baggage that morning until we had to drag all of the baggage out to the car in the rain.

We drove to the airport in peace, and parked in the Back 40 (long-term economy parking), so named because you have to take a bus from the parking lot to the terminal.

We didn’t originally have seats together on our long flight from Portland to Washington D.C. You see CB actually has some clout with United so they put him in the Premier section, and put me in Row 16. When we arrived at the airport we informed the United desk clerk of our situation and she immediately said to me, “Would you like six more inches of legroom for $59?” WTF? That’s almost $10 an inch! Then she informed me that since I was basically considered a beggar on this flight (since I have no United clout) that I would also be charged a fee for the ONE bag I was checking. Excuse me? Then she decided to be nice and check my bag under CB’s name since he apparently can check as many bags as he damned well pleases. (CB would like to note here that his bag was small enough to be a carry-on and he had no intentions of checking anything until The Muse showed up with the bag that ate Manhattan).

“We don’t have any seats together right now, but you can check with the gate agent,” she said with a smile that said, you’ll be sitting in the back with some chatty 2-year old while your boyfriend is up front enjoying his extra six inches of legroom. Ha!

We walked to the gate, making a brief stop at the Coffee People kiosk to grab a couple of triple shot lattes before the flight. I approached the gate attendant to see if she could move me into the long-leg zone with CB, or move him back to the knee-binding zone with me. No luck getting me into the Premier section, so CB would have to sit in the back with me.

We boarded the plane and settled into 16A and 16B. I graciously gave CB my window seat since he graciously gave up his extra six inches to sit with me in the back. Unfortunately it turned out not to be such a gracious gift after all, as the woman in front of him immediately fully reclined her seat into CB’s knees as soon as the 10,000 foot ding sounded in the cabin.

Once we took off a flight attendant with a voice that could have put an ADHD 12-year old to sleep came on to announce the in-flight services. “Today we have food-for-purchase available. We have a blue box, a red box, a yellow box a green box. Coffee, soft drinks, beer, wine and cocktails for $6,” blah blah blah. We perused the in-flight magazine for the contents of the colored food boxes and settled on the “Right Bite” which contained hummus, pita chips, lemon-pepper flavored tuna (yeah it was stinky and bad), crackers, Lorna Doone shortbread cookies and a square of dark chocolate. It was basically the only box that contained any semblance of protein.

During the flight we amused ourselves by doing three things:

1. Writing the first NYC blog by passing the laptop back and forth between us, made infinitely more challenging by the woman in front of CB who had fully reclined her seat.
2. Doing the crossword puzzle in the in-flight magazine. I will admit that when I get on a flight I immediately look for a magazine that has a completely untouched crossword puzzle. There’s nothing more annoying than starting a crossword puzzle that’s half done. Having expressed this sentiment to CB, he decided to write a little note on the crossword page when we finished it. The note said, “Get over it!” pity the poor soul who gets that magazine next.
3. And last but not least, we passed much of our light time hatching a plan to punk CB’s work colleague Carl.

Punking Carl deserves a blog unto itself (it’s coming). Suffice it to say that we spent at least an hour midflight trying to figure out how we were going to make poor Carl uncomfortable. You see, Carl has never met me, and in fact didn’t even know CB and I were dating, so I thought this a ripe opportunity for some improv of the highest order. Should I show up at a bar as CB’s long lost ex girlfriend from London? Should I be a Russian woman he shared a cab ride into the city with?

In the end we chose the scenario of the Russian woman that CB shared a cab ride in with and could now not get rid of…;^) Let the games begin!

To be continued…

Originally published on MySpace on November 4, 2008.

Cabana Boy: Travels with The Muse

(This is a collaborative effort. The first paragraph is written by Cabana Boy, and the second is written by me, etc…)

“Who else is coming with us?” I asked as The Muse wheeled in the largest suitcase I’d seen in years – the expandable gusset already deployed. “You know we’re only going to be in New York for four days, the other day and a half we’re on an airplane.”

“I’m a girl!” I said, “I need shoes and bags and coats. What if the weather changes?” It was true. My bag was the size of Ford F-150 packed for a 6-month road trip with a family of five. I had packed 2-week’s (okay, well, maybe three) week’s worth of clothing for a 4-day jaunt to New York.

When I travel for business I like traveling light. No checked bags, get in, do the work, get out. The Muse looked a little sheepish and I quickly realized that her mobile Macy’s wasn’t worth picking a fight over. Besides, we had a king sized bed waiting at the Roosevelt Hotel and who knew what secrets this vault of hers would yield up?

Macy’s? Hmph! Nothing but Nordstrom and Sak’s Fifth Avenue in my bag! Well, except for the vintage black wool swing coat I bought at Value Village for $9.99. Hey! This coat once graced the racks of I. Magnin. It says so right on the tag. Anyway, back to the subject at hand: the size of my bag. Size matters when you’re going to NYC.

At The Muse’s recent Sex and the City movie party I was invited to come as Mr. Big – but that’s another story. Guys, just so we’re clear, the I. Magnin wool swing coat wasn’t in the bag, but worn on The Muse’s rather fetching shoulders. Note no mention has been made of the computer or the handbag. We weren’t traveling light; we were prepared for an all out assault.

You can’t wear black shoes with brown pants! I had to bring the black shoes, the brown shoes, the running shoes, the four dresses, seven tops, three hats, three purses (because you can’t carry a brown leather bag when you’re wearing a black and white dress), the red patent leather flats (because I just might not be able to wear the stilettos for more than a New York block). “Honey, do you have a problem with the size of my bag?”

“No, dear, of course not.” I replied. To be continued…

I’m back in Tahoe this weekend, but instead of a houseful of kids and dogs it’s just me and my Cabana Boy. WTF? Cabana Boy? I’m calling him my Cabana Boy even though he is far from being a boy and actually has a few years on me. He wishes to remain nameless and faceless, so you’ll just have to wonder…

But now onto the story…

My CB and I dropped off Lili the Wonder Pug at a fabulous doggie B&B on Thursday morning and headed to the airport, trying to make an 11:25am flight to Reno.

We arrived at the Southwest gate after a slight delay having to do with the back of my heel and the wheel of my luggage crashing into each other as we raced from the parking bus to the terminal. I managed to procure a Bandaid from the Southwest desk agent before I bled all over the floor. Good to go.

We breezed through security even though I realized afterwards that I had forgotten to take my regulation plastic baggie of liquids out of my purse and send it through in a plastic bin. We checked the display board and noticed that our flight was boarding, so raced down to the gate. What’s the point of being in the A group on Southwest if you’re late for boarding?

As soon as we got to the gate I notice my friend Kevin at the gate with a couple of his friends, so I went over to say hi.

“Kev! What are you doing here?” I said as I gave him a big bear hug.

“We’re heading to L.A. to play some gigs,” he said, then introduced me to his friends. “This is Dane and this is Andrew. All drummers.”

Kevin and I used to work together, and he’s also my web designer, and he is also an awesome drummer who plays with the likes of Animotion and Missing Persons.

Our group started boarding, and I promised to try to save my drummer friends some seats once we got on the plane.

My CB and I settled into the emergency exit row, and Kevin and his friends were not far behind and ended up in the row directly behind us.

The rest of the story is best told in pictures…

That’s Kevin Rankin on the Right and Andrew Greene on the left. Andrew plays drums for a Guns & Roses tribute band called Appetite for Deception.

Left to right: Dane Haase (drummer for Abandonstage), Andrew Greene, Kevin Rankin, Me.

Me playing journalist and interviewing Kevin (taking notes on a barf bag).

“So, Kev what’s your schedule like this weekend?”

“Well, our flight lands in L.A. at 2:30. We have to be to a studio in Torrance by 4:00 to lay down some drum tracks. Then there’s a sound check in there somewhere and playing House of Blues at Disneyland at 7pm. Have a little meeting with Spawn drums on Friday, because they are sponsoring me and may be sponsoring Andrew. Then we’re playing the House of Blues on Sunset Boulevard on Saturday night.”

There was also something in there about having dinner with Miley Cyrus’s drummer (Nate Morton), and meeting up with the keyboard player from Berlin and the Googoo Dolls. I couldn’t keep up. I was taking notes on a barf bag!

After the interview…

We were having so much fun that the flight attendants wanted to get in on the action. Well, okay, we kind of roped them into the action.

This is Candace, who was reluctant to have her picture taken because she had been up since 3am, but doesn’t she look great?

And this is Stacey, who was not so reluctant once we convinced her we wouldn’t use the photos for evil purposes.

That’s another drummer named Nick (in the background), whom we randomly met on the plane. He was on his way to Reno to see Kiss.

I think we should play “Caption this Picture” with this one. Is he getting scolded or what?

And one more for Stacey.