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Well, it’s been a fun Thanksgiving holiday. I’ve enjoyed being able to put my feet up and watch TV for four days without taking the slightest note, but all relaxing things must come to an end; so here I am, back at the airport, preparing to fly back to the workaday mania of TVgasm. Oh, what am I talking about? I watch TV all day. It’s not that “workaday.” Nevertheless, if I’m at the jetBlue terminal, that usually means only one thing: time to bust out the laptop and blog the flight! Since it’s Monday night and I’m flying through primetime, I should have a wide variety of programming to choose from. CBS has its usual crops of comedies that I’ll be sure to ignore. FOX has the fall finale of Prison Break, which I would totally watch if I weren’t already an episode behind. Plus, there’s also an episode of House on, which I’ve probably already seen anyway. None of this matters though because I plan to spend a chunk of my six and a half hour flight watching Monday Night Football. Green Bay vs. Seattle. I don’t care particularly for either team, but many fantasy football outcomes hang in the balance. With a little luck, my troubled teams will spark to life again, but in all likelihood, I’ll probably be crying by the time I touch down. Alas.5:29 PM
Well, this is great. I’m sitting here in the jetBlue wireless hotspot, all ready to go onto the Internets, but there’s one problem: this hotspot is neither hot nor a spot. Discuss. That’s right, despite what the signs are saying, none of us poor, techno-dicted passengers sitting in the hotspot can get any sort of online access. I wasn’t sure if it was just me or not, but I didn’t feel like being that guy who asks everyone “Are you… are you online by any chance? No? Oh, okay. Good. I thought it was just me [polite laugh].” This of course then means you have to sit through some dumb comment like “Real pain in the ass,” to which I would then have to reply, “Yeah, I know.” Luckily, however, someone two seats down from me stepped up and asked us this very question, thus confirming my fears that we all were offline. How very frustrating. jetBlue can’t just tease us with promises of online access and then not provide. Then again, they did change cookie suppliers, and that wasn’t cool either.
By the way, the guy who asked us all if we could get online is now laughing on the phone with his friend. I swear to god, he has a perfect cackle. I couldn’t even emulate it if I wanted to. Basically, just imagine Snarf from Thundercats, except as a human.
Anyway, it’s not all doom and gloom here in JFK. I was able to procure much better pre-boarding food than at Burbank. Unlike my Eastbound flight where I was stuck with nothing but a meager (but tasty) chocolate croissant, I have now purchased a veritable meal fit for a king (a king of a very, very small, insignificant country, that is). Just like I had over the summer, I bought a smoked ham and brie sandwich with a dark chocolate Toblerone for dessert. Yes, it should be a gourmet flight this evening. I just hope I can keep the tin foil shreds from getting all over the place (let alone those dangerous chocolate flecks).
It’s always funny when women with big breasts and no bras go running through a terminal.
Okay, as you can see, quite a bit of time has passed without blogging. I can explain. So we get on the plane, and everything seems awesome at first. I had an exit row seat, but unfortunately, it wasn’t optimal (middle). However, some guy asked if I wanted to trade for his exit row window seat (on the other side of the aisle) so he could sit next to his friend. Well, I’m not an idiot. I was sold in an instant. I now was thrilled because I had pretty much the best seat on the plane. Even better, the middle seat was empty! This was pretty much unheard of. I knew the situation wouldn’t last — I mean, exit row seats are the equivalent of, well, I don’t know. I can’t think of any good analogies, but you know they’re the equivalent of something AWESOME. Surely it had to be filled.
Well, the flight was due to take off at 6:15, and at around 6:10, the woman on the aisle seat looked at me hopefully and said, “Maybe…” She was cool because there was this horrendous baby that was alternating screaming and playing with a squishy toy, and the woman looked at me and said something along the lines of “I WANT TO KILL THAT BABY.” It wasn’t that severe, but that’s what her body language was saying. Keep in mind that this is an older Asian lady, not the cynical type. Anyway, at about 6:14 PM, just when it seemed like we might be pulling off the best seating arrangement of all time, a guy suddenly walked onto the plane. A pit quickly formed in my stomach. I looked over to Asian lady. She too had dread all over her face. You just know it when somebody’s gonna take the vacant seat. Sure enough, the guy headed towards us, and as we had feared, he plopped his stuff down right on the seat. Great.
But wait! Suddenly the flight attendant called out the guy’s name. “Jeff? Jeff?” (It may have been Dave, but who really cares anyway). Turns out Jeff/Dave wasn’t allowed on the flight for whatever reason. That’s right, HE WAS YANKED. Middle seat preserved! Glory returns to exit row 11! For at least thirty seconds. The guy was pulled off because someone else was there to claim the seat. Yes, our hopes and dreams were destroyed. Middle seat was officially, irrevocably taken.
Turns out it was okay though. Middle seat guy (Mario, to be specific) has turned out to be pretty cool, and we’ve been bantering the whole flight. Hence, my lack of recapping. That’s not to say I haven’t been watching TV. I have. There’s been little on. I did watch Deal or No Deal and saw some idiot get greedy and wind up with a mere $10 (he deserved it for being so dumb). I also saw a promo for the next Law and Order: SVU featuring Bob Saget and Bernadette Peters. Wow! Sign me up! If only NBC could have booked Bonnie Franklin too, it would have been a trifecta!
In meal news, I denied the jetBlue snack basket (shocking, I know) in lieu of my own meal, the aforementioned ham and brie sandwich with accompanying dark chocolate Toblerone. I’m sure this was significantly better than the “Holiday biscotti” they were offering.
There was also a bit of horrendous flight etiquette as some dumbass bitch sitting in front of us put her hand behind her seat and draped it over Mario’s TV. What made this worse was that this was the second time in so many flights that I’d seen such shameful activity. Of course, in such a situation, you can’t just tap a person’s hand to get them to move. That would be too obvious. So I decided to take matters into my own hands. I adjusted the tilt of the TV screen. It was my subtle way of saying, “Hey, I’m not going to be rude and tap you, but get the fuck off this TV screen.” (I was doing all this because I simply could not sit back and watch another hand-on-screen situation silently again, even if it wasn’t on my TV screen). Anyway, I tilted the screen, but no reaction. Either this woman was oblivious or she was passive-aggressively staking her territory. That’s when I decided to document this egregious behavior. I took a pic with my webcam:
Needless to say, after enough snickering from us, the woman moved her hand. Now, back to TV.
For those of you caring about my fantasy football situation, here’s the deal. I’m in three leagues — second place in one (soon to be third), and dead last in the other two. In one league (the one that actually has money on it, dammit), my situation is utterly hopeless. I’m done and over with. In the other league, my only glimmer of hope is to beat J-Unit. As you can see, tonight’s game has TVgasmic implications. If J-Unit beats me, I am also done in that league. Oh cruel fantasy. I feel almost as tortured as that fat guy who lost $147,000 on Deal or No Deal.
Uh oh. Nightmare squealing baby has emerged from her devil-hibernation. I bet Asian lady is just as unhappy as I am.
The hand-draper is busy watching Monster’s Ball. Hey, hope you enjoy the most depressing transcontinental flight EVER.
ESPN again for some football. Two-minute warning? Sounds like it’s time for some 227 on TV Land. The perfect remedy to mid-flight malaise.
Huh. 227 isn’t as funny as I remember it. Someone just did the old “I’m rubber and you’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you” routine. Now that’s some fresh writing!
OMG!!! IT’S A YOUNG SHERRY PALMER!!!! PENNY JOHNSON JERALD ON 227!! Oh, how I wish I was Tivoing this. Except, I’m not sure this is actually 227. Turns out it’s The Jeffersons. I should have realized. (No Jackée).
Did you know that Ed Asner is now going by Edward Asner? I mean, what’s the point? You’re already 123 years old. Why switch now?
For the first time ever, I decide to watch Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Appropriately enough, we immediately hit turbulence. Fun fun.
Rat-a-tat-tat dialogue, hallway walking, obscure references — it’s nice to see Aaron Sorkin branching out. Ha! Matthew Perry just said “Rat-a-tat-tat” two seconds after I had typed it. This is so meta.
The past fifteen minutes have been torturous for me. I’ve spent the entire time trying to remember the name of the actress who plays Mary on 227 and Flo on The Jeffersons. How could I forget this? This is like forgetting who’s the President of the United States.
VH1 has some sort of reality show that involves Ileana Douglas house hunting. It’s the perfect union of bug-eyes and real estate.
Because it’s dry in the airplane or something like that, my eyes are tearing at the edges. Hence, it looks like I’m crying, which is especially embarrassing because I’m watching VH1 Classic.
Bad news for one poor guy on the Fox Movie Channel: he just got killed by the Predator. Luckily, Danny Glover’s here to save the day! Hooray for crappy sequels.
On DirecTV’s little music station, Five For Fighting is performing. Let’s be honest here: that Superman song was okay, but aside from that, this band (or guy, really) just sucks. All their songs sound the same, they all are whiney, and there’s always an annoying, twinkly piano. And don’t get me started on his emo falsetto. I think I’m just cranky because I still can’t remember Mary’s real name. This is seriously eating away at me.
Well, well, well. Turns out hand-draper couldn’t deal with Monster’s Ball. She had to switch to TLC. Typical.
Btw, I think someone from The Sopranos is on the plane. The young accountant cousin. Whoever he is.
Hasselbeck finally gets a touchdown. GREAT. Smell ya later, fantasy football playoff chances.
I’m back on TV Land, hoping that the next show to come on might be The Jeffersons. Unfortunately, “Due to Normal Aircraft Movement, Programming is Temporarily Unavailable.” I guarantee I’m going to miss the opening credits and Flo’s real name.
Well, this is exciting. We’re approaching the Rocky Mountains, which means we’re in for some hardcore turbulence. I’m fairly sure I’ll miss all of it because I’m so consumed with remembering whatsherface’s name.
Embarrassing fact: I really enjoy the “Every Kiss Begins With Kay” jingle.
TV Land is back. Oh please please please be The Jeffersons. Or 227. Or any TV show guest starring whatsherface.
Are you kidding me? TV Land, after showing black comedies from the ’70s all night long now is showing Stark Trek. I call bullshit. Eh, back to football.
Darrell Jackson gets a touchdown! 6 points for me! But 6 points for J-Unit too. BLAST.
MARLA GIBBS!!!! MARLA GIBBS!!!!
Oh, that felt good.
In a weird way, I bet it’s probably really fun to watch the Superbowl on jetBlue (as long as there are no idiot hand-drapers sitting in front of you).
Speaking of Kay Jewelers (sort of), ESPN just ran a promo for its new Muhammad Ali special. It’s all tough and rah rah rah, and then at the end, the announcer says, “Sponsored by KAY JEWELERS!” I look forward to ESPN’s upcoming special, Jeremy Shockey Revealed sponsored by Tampax.
Rocky Mountain turbulence is upon us. And sadly, Marla Gibbs no longer can distract me. What to do? Luckily, I can now enjoy this football game, which just happens to be quite exciting. Almost as exciting as trying to determine when the girl in front of us will drape her hand over the seat again.
More turbulence. Excuse me while I grasp my armrests with all the strength in my hands.
Is it supposed to feel like I’m on a roller coaster that will never stop?
Well, the turbulence passed, and I wound up spending the past forty minutes absorbed in the football game. I’m fairly sure it was a bust fantasy wise. Now people are awake and roaming around, thanks to the flight attendants who passed out the miserable Wheat Thins Chips to everyone. Of course, the awful result of this is that the demon child has arisen once again and filled the cabin with all sorts of ear-piercing squeals and screams. Hey parents, SHUT YOUR DAMN KID UP.
The flight attendant just shot the demon child an evil glare. The sort of evil glare that only a flight attendant can pull off. Little did she realize that her eyes will be pecked out by a crow as soon as we land. At least, that’s what happened on The Omen II, which just happens to be appropriately playing on the Fox Movie Channel. I swear, Damien’s on this flight right now.
Well, it seems like the battery’s about to die. It’s been fun. I blame Damien.
And now the joyous epilogue. Nothing too eventful happened the rest of the trip. There was some casual Conan viewing, which came on the heels of a twenty-minute dead period of television programming. There was nothing on. Upon landing, I then had to wait a good thirty-five minutes before my bags showed up because for whatever reason, the hatch on our airplane refused to open, which meant mechanics needed to tinker with it for an intolerable amount of time. For all you wondering how my fantasy teams fared, let me just say, it was not pretty. I was hoping that at least in the league where I was in second place, I might somehow beat my opponent (who had LT), but I even lost in that, but a mere .32 points! Frustration incarnate. I was almost as angered as when I heard for the second time that DirecTV had bailed on installing HD in my apartment, saying they wouldn’t be available for two more weeks (it’s already been SIX weeks of waiting). There shall be an angry rant tomorrow….
Until then, I better go to sleep. I have an Amazing Race recap to attack tomorrow morning. Safe travels to all!
UPDATE: I can’t believe I forgot this, but when I was waiting curbside for J-Unit to pick me up at the airport, who should pull up to get her friend? None other than Casey from The Duel. Only in Los Angeles…