Good Day, Sunshine!

Entry 1    6:39 p.m.

We are on the tarmac. The hoi polloi, my people, are still boarding as we sit in First Class. The whole process is fraught, with what I am not sure. It just seems really clear that it is no funoving through like pigs to the slaughter, having to see the freer range pigs already in their pens. I haven't had this much leg room on a plane since the last time Sam Kinison screamed a joke.

I am riding with a large Armenian family they take up all of Row 1, the progenitor, his two daughters, and  granddaughter, and a teenage  grandson sitting next to me. I don't know where the father is, but I  fascinated.

Back to boarding. I find it fascinating that the airlines see fit to tell people in general boarding that they need volunteers to check bags or they will force people to do so. If I paid for a ticket and believed I was bringing carry-on, it feels like bait and switch to change it up. 

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