So I’m composing blog posts while sitting in a 757 on the runway at Newark, on the way out to Las Vegas for work.
No, I’m really going to Vegas for work. Stop laughing.
Okay, I’m staying at a casino. But it’s all that’s really available. Yes, the room is being comped for me.
And yes, I will be spending time with known gamblers. No kidding. It’s Las Vegas. The city is full of them. Sure, some of them are high rollers.
No, I’m going alone, no supervision. No, I don’t know how I’m going to be spending my evenings yet, although I’ve heard something about going out with some sports guys. Maybe a few party happy millionaires– oh, and a few pro poker players who could make livings as professional models.
But it’s all for work. Honest. Why don’t you believe me?
I’m composing all this now, and we’ll get to see what this looks like when I make it to Vegas, as I won’t be able to upload this until I get to someplace with a net connection. Lord only knows what this post will look like when I’m done. Think of it as a catch up for all the stuff that I haven’t posted in the last week or two, since work started getting hectic.
I’m sitting on the tarmac, listening to the piped in music, and just as there are Bad Songs For Weddings, there are Bad Songs for waiting for take-off.
It’s Too Late and Eternal Flame… oh, such lovely omens.
Midnight Train To Georgia… a train song on planes? Sure.
What Are you Doing New Year’s Eve? The way things are going, still sitting here.
Take It To The Limit… hmm. Put me on a highway?
Free Bird. Oy. And not even the real version, but the one combined with “Baby I Love Your Way”. Heresy. Of course, if they were going to choose the Skynyrd one, you might thing about– oh, heck, you might as well start playing Buddy Holly music then. Maybe some Stevie Ray Vaughn.
Could It Be I’m Falling In Love? Okay, that one’s pretty innocuous… we’ll let them go from there.
Speaking of Buddy, Stevie, and so on: isn’t it stunning that it’s been 25 years since John Lennon was shot?
Want to know what’s even more amazing? Since then, over 800,000 people have been died from firearms in America.
Shutdown now, time for takeoff–
–back. Still not King.
Seems that the in-flight movie is Batman Begins, which is a good choice. I’ll let you in on an admission: Ducard got me. I was expecting something entirely different, and it was written just to sucker in fanboys like me.
Of course, some readers are wondering why I’m watching the movie instead of working on the writing I’m supposed to be doing for them. Patience, I say– this is a warm up exercise. A long warm-up exercise. An exhaustive warm-up.
That was weird. Something just made the same ping-pong noise that gets made when they’re closing the doors on a subway car. What doors are closing here, and why didn’t I feel the draft?
What was that West Wing about night flying? It’s annoying to not be able to get my hands on scripts and/or net access from six miles up.
Good grief, what am I talking about sometimes? As I sit in a pressurized metal tube flying across the planet, going non-stop over 2500 miles, typing on more computing power than they used to land Apollo 11, watching movies and being blase about it all.
Yet more to be thankful for.
I think as I grow older, Thanksgiving is becoming my favorite holiday. I think I know why– it’s secular, there’s really no religious component to it; but most of all, there’s no acquisition to it. We don’t go out shopping for gifts, we don’t spend time figuring out what we want for gifts so that people can get something appropriate for us, we don’t fake smile at the stuff we don’t want and get and we don’t panic about when we get a really good gift that ours is inadequate.
All this holiday is a bout is being thankful for what you have and sharing what you have with others, both people you care about and people who you barely know. What a pleasant change of pace.
Which reminds me: there was a fellow posting in the comments on Peter’s blog about how he was thankful for nothing– everything he got, he earned. What an amazing ego. He must make his parents very proud, earning their genetic heritage and all. Even if you have no one to thank, be thankful for what you have. Heck, be thankful for all the things you didn’t want and didn’t get.
I hope you’ve had a good Thanksgiving, and found something to be thankful for.
Continuing on inappropriate in-flight entertainment: All right, now they’re running a Hope And Faith episode where, if I’m viewing this right, Hope and Faith fake being stewardesses to sneak aboard an aircraft and find their mom. Wackiness ensues.
Do the airlines really want to be showing an episode showing how easy it is to sneak onto an aircraft?
Got in a half hour early, drove around the city a bit in a PT Cruiser, registered, unpacked, got some food at the all night restaurant in the casino, and won enough money to pay for my internet connection all week.
More later.
Just a couple of points on your music musings.
1–“Midnight Train to Georgia” was originally inspired after songwriter Jim Weatherly had spoken with someone who was taking a “midnight plane to Houston”. Weatherly thought that a train would have a more romantic sounding aspect so he wrote it as “Midnight Train to Houston”. When an Atlanta-based producer working with Cissy Houston on a recording of the song asked to change the destination to Georgia, Weatherly agreed. Shortly after Cissy Houston’s version came out, Weatherly’s publisher sent a demo to Gladys Knight and the Pips’ manager and a music classic was born.
2–Regarding the “Free Bird” medley with “Baby, I Love Your Way” not being the “real version”, when the medley was being put together and the group (Will to Power) was seeking permission to use the song, it did seem to be little more than rank heresy. However, an interview with one of the surviving members of Lynyrd Skynyrd seemed to lessen the distaste. The gist of the interview was little more than “whatever keeps the Skynyrd legend alive is fine”. Now, as for the song’s being a “Bad Song for Waiting for Take-Off”, well, it took me a decade of not hearing it to be able to listen to it without screaming. (And compared to some of the rest of the garbage out there now–or even from 1988–it’s really not all that bad. When it’s played 50 times a day, yeah, it’s atrocious. When it’s played only one time every 50 days or so, it’s not so bad.)
Really? I didn’t know the Pips version was a cover. I’ll have to hunt down the original.
I have a big weakness for cover songs, something I should go into in another post if I haven’t already.