Sitting at American at LAX waiting to fly out to Austin. As a semi-frequent flier, you'd think I'd be used to getting bumped from a flight every now and then, and that it wouldn't bother me. But, i'm not and it does. Well, a quick clarification. It bothers me not a little when I'm treated like some fungible commodity or airline detritus to be bumped and tossed aside and into the great (and getting greater) pissed-off queue where quite a few American Airlines fliers have been going these days.
Sitting with me today is Owen Wilson; he just walked into the Gate 45 area and sat down directly across from me. Hmmm. Not sure why he's not up in the Admiral's Club (or whatever they're calling it these days), but he's rockin' his Reebok gym bag, and no one's recognizing him or bothering him.
Now, here's the odd thing: my brother-in-law was the founding drummer of Black Flag, the early punk band. This morning (oh, about 7 hours ago!), Henry Rollins, the former lead singer of Black Flag (after my brother-in-law left the band) was sitting in the EXACT same chair as Owen Wlson. Too funny. And, because I'm in Terminal Hell, I was alive and well to witness one of entertainment's minor concidences. Btw, these two alums (Mr. Rollins and my sister's hubby) from what is arguably the greatest or most punkiest band of all time just met at the NAMM show this year. Too school for cool, as I always say to my boys.
Sending you all bon voyage and good traveler wishes (journey mercies!), Dear Reader, so that you don't have domestic peregrinations keeping you from your destinations. Mine's Austin ... and I'll be there about 9 hours late. Fat, sausage-like fingers crossed that my luggage is waiting for me in Austin!