dumb waiters

So this morning I’m flying to Salt Lake and then on to Newark to meet the band and settle in to my hotel, maybe have a spot of dinner. Relax. It’s tough getting up at 3.15am but I’ll be there by evening and it’s the way.

OR I could do all that and be standing at the tunnel to the aeroplane and have them take my bag and appear to be scanning me before changing their minds and calling into the walkie talkie “Close the doors”. While looking my in the eye. They can see the desperation of the last hour in my eyes. This after being moved from curbside check-in at 5am to some other inside check in where i wait for 20 minutes behind some herman-munster looking rock dude with tatooed eyeliner and The Who sweater while he and his pals swap goth boots from bag to bag to avoid weight fees. Waiting. Patiently. When i finally get to the desk they tell me to split my two guitar cases and that the extra luggage fee is $165. Fantastic. Next up; the security line ‘ i ask my checking guy if i can be rushed through because the flight is now in 30 minutes. No he says. I get in line and call Bob. There’s nothing he can do but tell me to ask security to bump me up. They won’t. Waiting. There must be a thousand people in line. It goes from the terminal out across the road bridge to the carpark and back across to terminal and finally security. Finally, as the last boarding call is announced, perhaps sensing my sense that i’m getting down to the wire here, a security lady lets me jump past the last four people. Now, the bag guy decides he wants to run my clothes bag again and i split my jacket up the back bending to throw my shoes back on and run. That bag guy. That eyeliner dude. Thanks a lot. $150 rebooking fee and I’ll be in at 11pm. Sorry Bob. Sorry Furs; it was out of my hands. Seems maybe  i wasn’t meant to be on that flight.

There’s an airliner missing over the Atlantic. A missed flight is nothing.