Auto-Pilot, Auto-Harp, Oughta Shut Up

American Airlines Pilot: And if you look out to your right, you’ll see a nice view of Sioux City, Iowa as we head into Nebraska.

American Airlines – we know why you fly.

Apparently you don’t. It certainly isn’t to see Sioux City, Iowa from 32,000 feet. Even better was that we later flew right over some snow-capped Rockies and some beautiful painted desert spotted with mesas without another word from the flight deck. Maybe as soon as they hit Nebraska they put the baby on auto-pilot and catch a few zzzzz’s until the tower in San Diego wakes them up with some Black Sabbath. Some time the tower should “forget” to wake them until they’re all the way out over Guam. I’m not even sure where Guam is exactly, but it sounded funnier than Hawaii to me.

Speaking of Guam, the other night I became obsessed over the autoharp. I went from believing it was the lamest instrument ever made to absolutely wanting to buy one and find an autoharp instructor. If a door-to-door autoharp salesman had happened to knock on my door during that particular hour, he totally would have made a sale. By the way, I’m over it now so don’t go getting me one for Mother’s Day or I’ll be really pissed.

But I digress. After landing safely and checking into my hotel I did what any normal person would do – I bought a toothbrush and found a bike shop. Oral hygiene is a priority in my life, and one never knows when one might need a bicycle.

I mentioned this to the Mrs., aka Miss Safety, who wanted to know if they also had helmets available.

“I’ll wear a Subway bag on my head if I go riding.”

“I don’t think that will afford the same protection as a helmet.”

“Well, I planned on filling it with lettuce first.”

She actually debated the merits of a helmet versus a Subway bag filled with lettuce for a moment before realizing that I’m an utter moron and changing the topic. She would probably get along with Gladys very well.