Come fly with me

First Class- Should a plane crash, those seated at the front are almost guaranteed a clean death. Their passage to the next world is eased by a decent last meal, unlimited alchohol and enough leg room to meet their end with dignity.
The middle classes sitting behind in full economy with their knees pressed neatly up against their throats know that they will have to wait longer to die. They may even be condemned to survive in some horribly maimed condition. As for the lumpenproletariat in the cheap seats at the back, they stand a reasonable chance of walking away from the
wreckage in good health, thus being denied release from their vale of tears on earth.
John Ralston Saul, The Doubter's Companion

I tend to have a wretched time trying to sleep on airplanes. The neck is twisted out of shape, you're trying not to nudge the person next to you with your elbows. All the while mewling babies are setting each other off like car alarms.
So I've got twelve hours or so of pure monotony to look forward to. Stuck in the grey belly of a 747 crammed to the gills with experienced travellers, first-time flyers, mothers with brats, brats, people
who worry about terrorists/ deep vein thrombosis,
(sp?) trying to amuse myself with the in-flight movies that compete for the title of 'Most Banal'. And I'm no picnic either.

How is it that one guy can start off an ear-popping 12 hour trip a perfect gentleman (huh?), but touch down
at Narita Airport a complete arsehole? The bar cart is partially responsible. That's when words like
'cockpit' and 'black box' start to get funny. When boredom starts gnawing at me I start hassling people, and when there's a little button that summons people
that are paid to keep you happy....'Can I use the oxygen mask? I want to breathe like Michael Jackson.
Are there lonely people out there who enjoy getting a body cavity search?' etc,etc,etc. I am at my absolute worst when I'm bored- I do dangerous things. Headline:
Wasabi snorting contest goes tragically wrong. (I don't know where I was going with that either)

So, as a final thing before I leave (I'm only going for two weeks) I have two words for you guys:

Old School.

This little baby is hot off the press on October the 8th and I implore all of you to run, don't walk, to your local video store to rent it out post-haste. Funny, funny, funny, funny, funny stuff.