I’m not sure how interesting this will be, but I recently spent Remembrance Day Weekend tearing up the streets of New York City. In my travels, I brought along a pocket pad of paper and a pen, furiously scribbling trip notes so as not to forget the details. This first entry will be the easiest to write, as it’s basically already written: I just have to transcribe my writings from the plane ride. Further entries will rely on my ability to make sense of those notepad scribblings, but I think I’m up to the task. [NOTE: This entry will be skimpy on the photo side, for hopefully obvious reasons.]
I’m preparing to head to the city that never sleeps, and I’m already tired. It’s been a long few weeks, packed with assignments, due dates and parties. Add that to the fact that I haven’t slept in a real bed since the flood in September and you’ve got yourself a recipe for one tired dude. Unable to take a car this morning, I’ve been woken at 6AM and dropped at school four hours early for class. Sadly, I do not use this time to sleep.
I am now crammed in the backseat of an SUV driving down to Seattle to fly out of SEA-TAC. It’s the second time I’ve made this drive in the last three weeks, and as much as I’d love to be sleeping right now, there’s no room for that. My knee is jammed against my little brother’s leg, and my shoulders are wedged between his and the door. There is no comfort here. It’s a wonder I’m finding room to write.
After a brief stop in Blaine for Mexican food at Dos Padres, we make our way through Seattle traffic to the airport. With so much outrage surrounding invasive security measures and TSA patdowns of late, I’m expecting a full cavity search but (thankfully) receive nothing of the sort. My belt-buckle draws mild bemusement and security diligently checks my sweater sleeves to make sure I’m not hiding anything. Somehow, my lower body escapes inspection. Why would you check (and repeatedly re-check) my arms? Come on, man. If I’m hiding anything, it’ll be in my pants. …not that I’m complaining.
I’m on-board the plane now. We have yet to take off, but a baby is already crying. No, not crying — that’s not a strong enough word. Screaming. Most women being murdered don’t shriek like this kid. It’s been 15 minutes now and this is the worst thing I’ve ever listened to. This baby belongs on the no fly list. I would rather slice my limbs off with a sword and slowly bleed to death than continue being on this flight. I long for the sweet release of death. I am never having children.
What if this baby is like Devon Sawa in Final Destination? What if it’s trying to warn us all that we’re in serious danger? Is this plane going to blow up shortly after takeoff? Baby can’t use words!
We’re in the air now, finally. Sounds like the mother is trying to smother her child, but baby’s screams will not be stifled.
A dog stowed beneath us in the cargo hold is now audibly barking at Screamo. This is quickly becoming a waking nightmare.
A woman in front of me turns around, peering towards the baby. Her jaw hangs open in awe. I suddenly wish I could take a picture, her look of disgust is just too perfect.
As an in-flight diversion, I watch John Hamm on Conan and Mick Foley on Stewart — two of my favourite people, so wildly different. As Colbert begins, Baby’s horrifying screams start to worm their way through the headphones and back into my skull. Each and every one of my inner ear hairs is standing on end.
Channel-surfing, my morbid curiosity leads me to FOX News, where Glenn Beck is railing against George Soros for having the gall to fund watchdog newsgroups opposed to (shock of all shocks) Beck and FOX News. This apparently makes Soros some kind of global puppet master out to overthrow America. Beck is completely incoherent, constantly tripping over himself, flubbing his script and jumping to inconceivable conclusions. It boggles my mind that anyone could be taken in by this. He is literally putting on a puppet show and it is embarrassing to watch.
Meanwhile over on MSNBC, Keith Olbermann, fresh back from a slap-on-the-wrist hiatus, is ripping this segment to pieces. Thank God. Someone has to. [Editor’s Note: Jon Stewart would go on to masterfully rip this segment to shreds one week later in his Thursday, Nov. 18th show. If you’re in Canada, you can watch that by clicking here.]
We land at JFK safely, without incident. Chew on that, Devon Sawa.