*This advisory is a repeat. Happy Rerun Friday!
Ladies and Gentlemen...
Easter is coming. Please: Don't do this to your children. No Easter hats that look like birthday cakes/lamps. It will scar them. Forever. *
*This advisory is a repeat. Happy Rerun Friday!
*This advisory is a repeat. Happy Rerun Friday!
It's Banacek, Baby! BANACEK!
He's kinda inscrutable!
Here are more Banacek Sayins'!
A truly wise man never plays leapfrog with a Unicorn. (Sha-HA!)
"Read the whole library, my son, but the cheese will still smell after four days." (True dat!)
"Twelve good horses and silver candlesticks won't stop the snow from falling in Bialystock." (Okaaaaaaaay...)
"A wolf that takes a peasant to supper probably won't need any breakfast." (Yepper!)
"Even though a man anoint himself with fragrant oils, he can still end up with a broken face."(What kind of fragrant oils?)
And, my personal favorite:
"When an owl comes to a mouse picnic, it's not there for the sack races."
Here are more Banacek Sayins'!
A truly wise man never plays leapfrog with a Unicorn. (Sha-HA!)
"Read the whole library, my son, but the cheese will still smell after four days." (True dat!)
"Twelve good horses and silver candlesticks won't stop the snow from falling in Bialystock." (Okaaaaaaaay...)
"A wolf that takes a peasant to supper probably won't need any breakfast." (Yepper!)
"Even though a man anoint himself with fragrant oils, he can still end up with a broken face."(What kind of fragrant oils?)
And, my personal favorite:
"When an owl comes to a mouse picnic, it's not there for the sack races."
Obama Approval Rating "Plummets," "Skyrockets," then "Does a Dippy Do"
PRINCETON, NJ--An exhausted Barack Obama's pledge to cure the nation’s ills by finding Leprechaun Gold has increased his public support to 67%, just two points below his term high. In an “off-mic” comment following a recent speech, the president muttered, “Look, gimme a break. I’ve been in office 57 days. Why don’t I just fix everything by hunting down a leprechaun, hitting him with ‘me shillaley,’ and stealing his treasure?” The resultant upswing in his popularity has been directly linked to the impending leprechaun hunt—quickly dubbed “Operation Endearing Lucky Charms” by pundits—and comes on the heels of a term-low 59% reported by Gallup.
Obama's promise appears to have won him support he had been losing in prior days, and then some. A whopping 9 out of 10 voters expressed their belief that Obama’s pledge was “magically delicious.” In Gallup’s phone survey, the majority of those interviewed had guidance to share with the president. John Atherton of Boise, Idaho stated, “I guess you could call me cautiously optimistic about this bold new plan. He just needs to be really careful and sneak up on the leprechaun. He should get some stealthy shoes—maybe Hush Puppies.” Katy O’Rourke of Sunapee, New Hampshire reflected, “I think that after all this time—I mean, it’s been over two months and everything isn’t all better—Obama is finally on the right track. But, I think he should also consider waving his magic wand and fixing everything. I think that would be good, too.”
The current approval rebound is due to increased support from all political groups, but especially from independents, Republicans, and the segment of the population that wears “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” t-shirts on March 17. Yet, another group of voters may feel differently.
When asked to comment on Obama's pledge, Leprechaun-American community spokesman Jinxie O'Doublooney turned pale green and stammered, "But we only gots a wee bit o' pots o' gold left. Bernie O'Madoff got most o' our treasure and the rest hae been a'tankin' in our 401ks." While some do not believe the Leprechaun-Americans' claims of poverty, the community's outcry prompted the Obama camp to issue a statement that, "Operation Lucky Charms was an ill-advised joke made by Vice-President Joe Biden and in no way expresses any intentions on the part of the President to seize the Leprechaun-American community's assets." As this story was filed, Gallup was in the process of recalculating Obama's approval rating. A spokesman for Gallup stated, "I dunno. The approval rating is maybe 62%? 61.5%? We're in the middle of debating whether we can officially say it is plummeting. Right now it looks like it's doing a Dippy Do."
Obama's promise appears to have won him support he had been losing in prior days, and then some. A whopping 9 out of 10 voters expressed their belief that Obama’s pledge was “magically delicious.” In Gallup’s phone survey, the majority of those interviewed had guidance to share with the president. John Atherton of Boise, Idaho stated, “I guess you could call me cautiously optimistic about this bold new plan. He just needs to be really careful and sneak up on the leprechaun. He should get some stealthy shoes—maybe Hush Puppies.” Katy O’Rourke of Sunapee, New Hampshire reflected, “I think that after all this time—I mean, it’s been over two months and everything isn’t all better—Obama is finally on the right track. But, I think he should also consider waving his magic wand and fixing everything. I think that would be good, too.”
The current approval rebound is due to increased support from all political groups, but especially from independents, Republicans, and the segment of the population that wears “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” t-shirts on March 17. Yet, another group of voters may feel differently.
When asked to comment on Obama's pledge, Leprechaun-American community spokesman Jinxie O'Doublooney turned pale green and stammered, "But we only gots a wee bit o' pots o' gold left. Bernie O'Madoff got most o' our treasure and the rest hae been a'tankin' in our 401ks." While some do not believe the Leprechaun-Americans' claims of poverty, the community's outcry prompted the Obama camp to issue a statement that, "Operation Lucky Charms was an ill-advised joke made by Vice-President Joe Biden and in no way expresses any intentions on the part of the President to seize the Leprechaun-American community's assets." As this story was filed, Gallup was in the process of recalculating Obama's approval rating. A spokesman for Gallup stated, "I dunno. The approval rating is maybe 62%? 61.5%? We're in the middle of debating whether we can officially say it is plummeting. Right now it looks like it's doing a Dippy Do."
WildviewTM Cam Stake-Out '09!
Last week, the elderly fellow next door and I had a stake-out of his back yard. He's seen up to five deer feeding there at once over the last couple of weeks--he puts out corn.
First: This is why I like elderly people--well, one of many reasons why I like elderly people. They never ask you, "So, what do you do?" Instead, they say, "Ask me what I did in 1948!" And, you say: "What did you do in 1948?" And then they tell you--sometimes for 15 minutes, sometimes for 45 minutes. I love it. I always want to hear what someone did in 1948, and I hate talking about myself and that kind of chit-chat. Even if they decide to ask a younger person a question, they often don't care much about the answer. They look away with a faraway smile, nodding as you blather out some mambojambo, and then they say, "Ask me what I did in 1954!"
Anyway: Here are the photos from our stake-out. Enjoy! And: Have a great weekend!
First: This is why I like elderly people--well, one of many reasons why I like elderly people. They never ask you, "So, what do you do?" Instead, they say, "Ask me what I did in 1948!" And, you say: "What did you do in 1948?" And then they tell you--sometimes for 15 minutes, sometimes for 45 minutes. I love it. I always want to hear what someone did in 1948, and I hate talking about myself and that kind of chit-chat. Even if they decide to ask a younger person a question, they often don't care much about the answer. They look away with a faraway smile, nodding as you blather out some mambojambo, and then they say, "Ask me what I did in 1954!"
Anyway: Here are the photos from our stake-out. Enjoy! And: Have a great weekend!
Happy Bill Day!
Howdy! Happy Friday to ya, and--most importantly--Happy Bill Day! No, no. Kee-RAP no! I don't mean those kinds of bills in the envelopes.
I've got the itch to make my own holidays up. So, today's holiday is Bill Day--in tribute to Bills everywhere. If you or someone you know (this sounds like a line from an ambulance-chasing lawyer commercial, doesn't it?) is a Bill, or if you've ever heard the name "Bill," go ahead and take the day off and party on down. Tell your boss "Sparkle Plenty" told you to do so and send any spoilsport boss letters of protest to Pop Mechs.
I'm celebratin':
Wedding Bell Blues! which slides in under the billdar due to the use of the name Bill (we'll consider it the official Bill Day anthem) and which I'm just including because I love this video, this song, and how awesome is Marilyn McCoo? C'mon! Awesome.
Bill Franzen, Bill Franzen, Bill Franzen, Bill Franzen, Bill Franzen! (Bill Franzen) and his book that NEVER should have ended up in the bargain bin where I bought it and that sells on Ebay for $1.00, which I hate because it's my favorite book: "Hearing from Wayne and Other Stories."*
Pooooor, Poor Dollar Bill! ("one of the nicest and most straightforward men I have ever met"):
Bill Murray! (No explanation necessary.)
Billie Dawn! (Judy Holiday in "Born Yesterday")
(Harry Brock: "Shut up! You ain't gonna be tellin' nobody nothin' pretty soon!" Billie Dawn: "DOUBLE NEGATIVE! Right?" Paul Verrall: "Right.")
Billie Holiday!
Bill Holden! (a cool, cool cat...a very special breed of cool cat)
Bill Wyman!
Make merry! Be gay! Happy Bill Day!
*Yes! Dickens, Wodehouse, Bernard Shaw, Parker, I love 'em all and everybody else you might be about to name! However, when I apply the stiff criterion of "What book makes me feel exactly as I did--GREAT--when I first read it? This book wins. My favorite three stories: "Hearing from Wayne," "The Volunteer Organist," and "This Uncle." Did I mention Bill Franzen? BILL FRANZEN!!!! And, this has nothing to do with the fact that he is also a stand-up guy who, during my college years, called me after I wrote to him via his publisher and talked to me about writing so I could do a STUPID presentation in my fiction writing class. BILL FRANZEN! Crap. I should make a special day just for Bill Franzen! Consider it done. Tomorrow is Bill Franzen Day, okay? Synchronize watches.
I've got the itch to make my own holidays up. So, today's holiday is Bill Day--in tribute to Bills everywhere. If you or someone you know (this sounds like a line from an ambulance-chasing lawyer commercial, doesn't it?) is a Bill, or if you've ever heard the name "Bill," go ahead and take the day off and party on down. Tell your boss "Sparkle Plenty" told you to do so and send any spoilsport boss letters of protest to Pop Mechs.
I'm celebratin':
Wedding Bell Blues! which slides in under the billdar due to the use of the name Bill (we'll consider it the official Bill Day anthem) and which I'm just including because I love this video, this song, and how awesome is Marilyn McCoo? C'mon! Awesome.
Bill Franzen, Bill Franzen, Bill Franzen, Bill Franzen, Bill Franzen! (Bill Franzen) and his book that NEVER should have ended up in the bargain bin where I bought it and that sells on Ebay for $1.00, which I hate because it's my favorite book: "Hearing from Wayne and Other Stories."*
Pooooor, Poor Dollar Bill! ("one of the nicest and most straightforward men I have ever met"):
Bill Murray! (No explanation necessary.)
Billie Dawn! (Judy Holiday in "Born Yesterday")
(Harry Brock: "Shut up! You ain't gonna be tellin' nobody nothin' pretty soon!" Billie Dawn: "DOUBLE NEGATIVE! Right?" Paul Verrall: "Right.") Billie Holiday!
Bill Holden! (a cool, cool cat...a very special breed of cool cat)
Bill Wyman!
Make merry! Be gay! Happy Bill Day!
*Yes! Dickens, Wodehouse, Bernard Shaw, Parker, I love 'em all and everybody else you might be about to name! However, when I apply the stiff criterion of "What book makes me feel exactly as I did--GREAT--when I first read it? This book wins. My favorite three stories: "Hearing from Wayne," "The Volunteer Organist," and "This Uncle." Did I mention Bill Franzen? BILL FRANZEN!!!! And, this has nothing to do with the fact that he is also a stand-up guy who, during my college years, called me after I wrote to him via his publisher and talked to me about writing so I could do a STUPID presentation in my fiction writing class. BILL FRANZEN! Crap. I should make a special day just for Bill Franzen! Consider it done. Tomorrow is Bill Franzen Day, okay? Synchronize watches.
Spring is Coming!
Almost Spring!
This weekend, I noticed lots of bulbs starting to come up around the house--crocus and daffodils, for sure, and I even saw a cluster of snowdrops blooming in the flowerbed with the raspberries. I was quite excited, and I was all set to take pictures to document the springiness of it all.
And then, this kind of happened. Pretty, but it's a definite obstacle in terms of flower growth:
This is how it looked just a few days earlier. Note the happy sight of the bare ground.
Still, the snow kind of makes it look like I live in a gingerbread house, and I do like that:
And, I love watching the birds who hang out at the following feeders:
The "Robot-Looking Ones That I Bought for A Dollar Each Because They Were Shiny and $1 and That Suck Because the Birdseed Freezes in The Bottoms of 'Em When It Is Cold"
"The Dr. Seuss Feeder" (I don't know why I started calling it this--it just seemed Seussish--like something that would hang in Whoville and feed flocks of exotically-colored birds with whimsical names--the Whirlsnobbler and the Fandiddler and the, uh, "Robin," etc.)
"The Iron Maiden"...Okay. It's not that bad. Let's just call it "The Feeder That I Can't Get the Top Off of When It's Cold and I Freeze My Fingers Off Even When I'm Wearing Mittens (ow)"
"The Carousel"--This one was here when I moved in. I think it belonged to the elderly woman who lived here for decades--I like to think that, anyway, because she sounds like a lovely woman.
Note the homemade bird food lurking in it--I made that yesterday because I ran out of birdseed. It's all stuff that they should, technically speaking, enjoy: chopped peanuts, crumbled corny stuff, dried cherries that I meant to use in something (couscous? cookies? no idea) but have been sitting in the cupboard for a year. I saw a couple of bold juncos trying it out as I peeked out the window, but then they all just started hanging onto the empty "Iron Maiden" feeder and pecking at the little seedless holes which was a very sad sight indeed.
I kinda knew this would happen--and I'll be heading out to purchase more birdseed as soon as I finish working on someone's resume. 'til then, I've emptied a few bits of non-frozen birdseed out of the robot feeders and mixed it into this stuff--trying to disguise the homemade birdseed in a way that reminds me of when my grandmother tried to get my sister to eat liver by pretending it was meatballs.
Anyhoo, in keeping with the Spring is coming thought, here are ideas for "Children's Lunch Bags and Picnics" (chicken fricassee? lobster stew?). I like the old-timey "blueberry grunt" and "raspberry shrub," as well as the "Desperate Mother's Quick Frank Stew" (why doesn't the desperate mother just use her power to make fire and hand the child a stick and a hot dog?) and while I can't quite remember what "Scotch Eggs" are (maybe hardboiled eggs rolled in sausage and breadcrumbs and fried? Dunno) I like her line: "They also like Scotch Eggs because they look like yellow eyes, a child once told me..."
From this Book:
Later today, I think I'll go try to dig out the snowdrops--I can sense 'em there, blooming pluckily under a foot of snow--after I shovel off the bulkhead and carve out a racing track for Lily in the back yard.
Hope you have a great day!
This weekend, I noticed lots of bulbs starting to come up around the house--crocus and daffodils, for sure, and I even saw a cluster of snowdrops blooming in the flowerbed with the raspberries. I was quite excited, and I was all set to take pictures to document the springiness of it all.
And then, this kind of happened. Pretty, but it's a definite obstacle in terms of flower growth:
This is how it looked just a few days earlier. Note the happy sight of the bare ground.
Still, the snow kind of makes it look like I live in a gingerbread house, and I do like that:
And, I love watching the birds who hang out at the following feeders:The "Robot-Looking Ones That I Bought for A Dollar Each Because They Were Shiny and $1 and That Suck Because the Birdseed Freezes in The Bottoms of 'Em When It Is Cold"
"The Dr. Seuss Feeder" (I don't know why I started calling it this--it just seemed Seussish--like something that would hang in Whoville and feed flocks of exotically-colored birds with whimsical names--the Whirlsnobbler and the Fandiddler and the, uh, "Robin," etc.)
"The Iron Maiden"...Okay. It's not that bad. Let's just call it "The Feeder That I Can't Get the Top Off of When It's Cold and I Freeze My Fingers Off Even When I'm Wearing Mittens (ow)"
"The Carousel"--This one was here when I moved in. I think it belonged to the elderly woman who lived here for decades--I like to think that, anyway, because she sounds like a lovely woman.
Note the homemade bird food lurking in it--I made that yesterday because I ran out of birdseed. It's all stuff that they should, technically speaking, enjoy: chopped peanuts, crumbled corny stuff, dried cherries that I meant to use in something (couscous? cookies? no idea) but have been sitting in the cupboard for a year. I saw a couple of bold juncos trying it out as I peeked out the window, but then they all just started hanging onto the empty "Iron Maiden" feeder and pecking at the little seedless holes which was a very sad sight indeed.I kinda knew this would happen--and I'll be heading out to purchase more birdseed as soon as I finish working on someone's resume. 'til then, I've emptied a few bits of non-frozen birdseed out of the robot feeders and mixed it into this stuff--trying to disguise the homemade birdseed in a way that reminds me of when my grandmother tried to get my sister to eat liver by pretending it was meatballs.
Anyhoo, in keeping with the Spring is coming thought, here are ideas for "Children's Lunch Bags and Picnics" (chicken fricassee? lobster stew?). I like the old-timey "blueberry grunt" and "raspberry shrub," as well as the "Desperate Mother's Quick Frank Stew" (why doesn't the desperate mother just use her power to make fire and hand the child a stick and a hot dog?) and while I can't quite remember what "Scotch Eggs" are (maybe hardboiled eggs rolled in sausage and breadcrumbs and fried? Dunno) I like her line: "They also like Scotch Eggs because they look like yellow eyes, a child once told me..."
From this Book:
Later today, I think I'll go try to dig out the snowdrops--I can sense 'em there, blooming pluckily under a foot of snow--after I shovel off the bulkhead and carve out a racing track for Lily in the back yard.Hope you have a great day!
Spring is Coming!
...Soon. Okay? Spring is coming soon--I swear. We'll just call the storm we experienced yesterday "a minor setback."
Ask Pop Mechs! He Has the Answers to All Your Questions!
From the Desk...of Pop MechsDear Pop Mechs (popmechs@hotmail.com),
...What do you think of Pitbulls as pets?
Parker B. Nosy
Dear Mr. Nosy,
Our dog crop is almost as important as our wheat or cotton crop; three times as much as our potato crop.
All set? You bet! Thanks for stoppin' by!
Pops
Dear Pop Mechs,
"Crop"? "Dog crop?" What the heck are you talking about, you sick old bastard?
Parker B. Nosy
Dear Mr. Nosy,
Having won a variety group, the dog begins to take on value. If he can repeat he usually scrambles into the money. His owner is besieged with applications for stud services.
All set? You bet. Thanks for stopping by!
Pops
Heyyyy, Popster!
So, what you're saying is: a Pitbull could be a money-making proposition? And, if I get one, we'll "scramble into the money"--whatever the hell that means. And, chicks will dig me? I will be "besieged with applications for my services as a stud"? Hey HEY hey...Thanks, man! Cool. I'll call him Chewbacca. What else should I know?
Parker B. Nosy
Dear Mr. Nosy,
The modern dog shop is a revelation. Beginning with dog beds and mattresses, dog houses and dog chinaware, its stocks include hundreds of styles in harnesses, leashes, and muzzles; rain capes, plaid jackets, woven sweaters, nobby gabardine and camel's hair wraps, leather mittens, and fur-lined galoshes.
All set? You bet. Thanks for stopping by!
Pops
Dear Pops,
Okay. This is a little eerie. I was thinking about getting a Pitbull as a pet, and instead it's sounding like I'm moving in with my ex-wife again. Woven sweaters? Rain capes? Camel's hair wraps? Sounds just like Deena's closet. I'm not gonna even "go there" with the harness and leash stuff. 'nuff said. Tell ya what, 'though, if this crap will help Chewbacca and me "scramble into the money" I'll be kitting him out to the nines. I'll get California Closets to come by and make him a storage space for those leather mittens and such. So, what should I feed Chewie?
Parker B. Nosy
Dear Mr. Nosy,
Dog feeding is the largest single entry. Half a billion dollars a year is an extremely conservative estimate of Fido's American dinner check.
All set? You bet! Thanks for stoppin' by!
Pops
Whoa, there Pops!
Not so fast. Half a bil is an extremely conservative estimate of Fido's American dinner check? First, let's both just nod our heads and admit that you talk funny. Next, his name will be Chewbacca--not Fido. Will this reduce the cost of his "American dinner check," whatever that might be?
Parker B. Nosy
Dear Mr. Nosy,
The most prevalent of city dog-ailments are constipation, intestinal parasites and pyorrhea.
All set? You bet! Thanks for stoppin' by!
Pops
GEEZ, Pops!
You have the attention span of a flea. We were talking about the "American dinner check" and now you're all about the pyorrhea. Can you stay focused? Also, now it sounds like you're down on me teaming up with Chewie. You're saying we can scramble into the money, but it also sounds like Chewie will remind me of Deena and go around pyorrheaing. No idea what that is. Can't be good.
Parker B. Nosy
Dear Mr. Nosy,
When a director needed twelve reindeer for a motion picture being filmed in Alaska recently, they were transported by airplane from a point 500 miles away. The animals, carried six at a time, were trussed securely, but one escaped his bonds and only quick work by the pilot's assistant saved the plane from damage. Also on the plane were twelve sacks of reindeer moss.
All set? You bet! Thanks for stoppin' by!
Pops
Dear Pops,
WHAT?
Parker B. Nosy
Dear Mr. Nosy,
Raise giant frogs! Markets waiting! Frog legs in big demand at good prices the year round! Easy to ship. Small pond starts you.
All set? You bet! Thanks for stoppin' by!
Pops
Dear Pops,
WHAT?
Parker B. Nosy
Dear Mr. Nosy,
Go where there's lots of fun--on a Harley-Davidson. Yes, Siree--motor improvements give greater sustained horsepower that cuts gas and oil costs WAY DOWN. And you'll get streamlined designed, snappy color combinations, and smooth, gliding speed.
All set? You bet! Thanks for stoppin' by!
Dear Pops,
Okaaaaaaay. I gotcha. You lost me for awhile there, but now I'm reading you loud and clear--you're like some zen master speaking in parables, aren't you? I'm still not sure what that reindeer stuff was about, but I know it was some deep shit. Bottom line, I'm thinking straight now: Forget the Pitbull. Chewie's out. I'm getting a Harley--probably get more gals linin' up for my "stud services" that way anyway, huh? No. No. Don't answer me. Let's leave it just like this. Thanks for your help!
Parker B. Nosy
True Real-Life Stories that Are True and Real!
So, I took a trip recently. I got on an airplane and I figured the airplane would, y'know, go--do that crazy flying thing it does so well.
Instead, my airplane sat on the runway. For three hours. During the first hour, they told us we would be taking off, ooh, every 15 minutes or so. During the second hour, there was absolutely no word until a low, savage grumbling began to arise from the sweating, peevish masses. (Okay, maybe it was just me being sweating and peevish?) The wing de-icing equipment came. And glided majestically away 'cross the glistening tarmac. Then, five minutes later, we all heard this announcement by the flight attendant--oh, she was a stewardess, let's call a spade a spade:
"Ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to thank you again for your patience. We need to wait our turn to have our wings de-iced. Once that happens, we'll be underway and (this was clearly a doomed effort to get us all excited and happy) soon we'll have beverage service! Fountain drinks, juice, and water costs $1.00. Alcoholic beverages cost $5.00. We're so glad you chose to fly our airline and be here with us today!"
Plane full of people sat there staring at each other. We had all seen the de-icing equipment come. And go. We had seen it, really, we had seen it! In fact, we were a pale-faced, icy-fists-gripping-stomachs pack of William Shatners in that Twilight Zone episode when he sees the gremlin on the wing. He SEES it. Except the gremlin that we saw was what I shall call "disquieting hints of flight crew incompetence."
Two minutes passed. Two minutes jam-packed with stewardess buttons being pounded and frenzied, spitty, agitated, hissed conversations between and amongst the flight crew and us William Shatners.
Two more minutes brought the dawn of a bright new announcement:
"Uh, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking...as several of you have kindly called to our attention, we have already had our wings de-iced. What we're doing now is..." squeaky muffled sound as there is a failed attempt to cover the microphone, "C'mon. What should I tell them? What should I tell them?" Other voice: "Tell them snow...just tell them snow" squeaky muffled sound as the pilot tries to re-engage the communications system that is already working just fine. "...yeah, what we are doing now is...it's a little too technical to explain, but we found some snow on the engine and..." random squeaky muffled sound, "...yeah, we need to put some heat on the engine. Yep. We'll be underway after we put some heat on the engine."
Then, it was another hour before we took off.
The only conclusion to draw from this story? They were attempting to sober the pilot up. They did! I got there and back!
Instead, my airplane sat on the runway. For three hours. During the first hour, they told us we would be taking off, ooh, every 15 minutes or so. During the second hour, there was absolutely no word until a low, savage grumbling began to arise from the sweating, peevish masses. (Okay, maybe it was just me being sweating and peevish?) The wing de-icing equipment came. And glided majestically away 'cross the glistening tarmac. Then, five minutes later, we all heard this announcement by the flight attendant--oh, she was a stewardess, let's call a spade a spade:
"Ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to thank you again for your patience. We need to wait our turn to have our wings de-iced. Once that happens, we'll be underway and (this was clearly a doomed effort to get us all excited and happy) soon we'll have beverage service! Fountain drinks, juice, and water costs $1.00. Alcoholic beverages cost $5.00. We're so glad you chose to fly our airline and be here with us today!"
Plane full of people sat there staring at each other. We had all seen the de-icing equipment come. And go. We had seen it, really, we had seen it! In fact, we were a pale-faced, icy-fists-gripping-stomachs pack of William Shatners in that Twilight Zone episode when he sees the gremlin on the wing. He SEES it. Except the gremlin that we saw was what I shall call "disquieting hints of flight crew incompetence."
Two minutes passed. Two minutes jam-packed with stewardess buttons being pounded and frenzied, spitty, agitated, hissed conversations between and amongst the flight crew and us William Shatners.
Two more minutes brought the dawn of a bright new announcement:
"Uh, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking...as several of you have kindly called to our attention, we have already had our wings de-iced. What we're doing now is..." squeaky muffled sound as there is a failed attempt to cover the microphone, "C'mon. What should I tell them? What should I tell them?" Other voice: "Tell them snow...just tell them snow" squeaky muffled sound as the pilot tries to re-engage the communications system that is already working just fine. "...yeah, what we are doing now is...it's a little too technical to explain, but we found some snow on the engine and..." random squeaky muffled sound, "...yeah, we need to put some heat on the engine. Yep. We'll be underway after we put some heat on the engine."
Then, it was another hour before we took off.
The only conclusion to draw from this story? They were attempting to sober the pilot up. They did! I got there and back!
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