Wastin' away again in

I have discovered something about flying (on a jet, not physically mustering the ability to fly without a machine). I fly Southwest, for the simple reason that they are an inexpensive airline. But I believe that what I noticed is true for nearly all airlines: in order for me to board the plane quicker, I need to either lose my leg or purchase an infant. Now, this is something that many have you have probably also thought while watching the handicapable or child-burdened enter the jetway before you. I found myself wondering, however, how closely they check to see if the papoose you are holding is real. Could I get seating priority by carrying a doll?

I sat next to an obese person coming on one of my flights (thankfully one of a shorter nature). I had never before had to sit with my elbow on my crotch, my entire left side of my body collapsed like my muscles had intense dystrophy problems. That was extremely uncomfortable, and, when added with audible, struggled throat-breathing of the gentleman next to me, made for a largely unenjoyable flight. And I still feel that if he had only put the separating arm rest down between us, I would have been able to reach New Orleans without his warm, humid flesh reaching to me through his intolerably tight t-shirt.

But everyone complains about flying. We want more room, better snacks (Please bring back honey roasted peanuts with some sort of consistency! I can't handle salted any more!), a full can of drink, more attractive flight attendants (I miss the good ol' days when they were called Stewardesses and had to pass a visual test to serve drinks to cranky businessmen.) and the right to use our electronics in a continuous manner, from the time we enter the airport until we are in our city of destination (Really? My iPod is going to make the plane crash? I've never heard of that being the cause and I KNOW that some people aren't following the rule.). However, I think there is very little incentive for the airlines to provide us with everything we want, because there is very little customer loyalty. Let's be honest: if it were twenty dollars cheaper (and, obviously, some assurance of safety) to fly by giant slingshot to my destination, I would never step on a jet again. No real people ever turn down a cheap fare because "they don't offer moist towelettes and a compliment as I enter the aircraft." And people that do say that should be taken outdoors and beaten with Hot Wheels track sets (the old yellow, blue and red ones, that required creativity, not the new city block style play sets).

While in Florida, I had the delightful opportunity to eat at a restaurant known as "Margaritaville." As the name suggests, it is owned by Jimmy Buffett, singer and writer of the song after which the restaurant is named. It was a pretty cool atmosphere and the food was tasty (Although, after being charged $14.64 for a burger, I felt like I had been just slightly robbed. And they included the tip in the check! I didn't even get a chance to stiff them! I believe in paying food service people their full due [meaning: don't tick off the people who handle your food], but tipping wasn't always compulsory. What happened to earning your money?). In the restaurant, they had several large projection screens playing music videos, mostly of normal artists you would expect in a laid back restaurant, people like Ben Harper, Jason Mraz, John Mayer, et cetera; however, the rest of the songs were performed by, you guessed it, Jimmy Buffett. Unlike normal music videos, which show the band singing/playing a song, and perhaps showing a story to go along with it, Jimmy's videos followed this basic line:

1) Eight to ten seconds of Jimmy Buffett (with the nice red hue that only comes from spending too much time in the sun and being white) with a guitar player starting the song on a stage at a bar on a beach (wow, that's a lot of prepositions!)

2) Three and a half minutes of middle aged men and women getting absolutely PLASTERED. I don't mean they were playing with stucco, I mean they were consuming just about every known alcohol in every conceivable manner. This was usually interspersed with clips of these same stumbling 40- and 50-year olds dancing wildly (wildly meaning both provocatively and slightly unsteadily) to Jimmy Buffett music.

3) The final seconds show Jimmy and the band wrapping up the set.

All of this information has lead me to this conclusion: Jimmy Buffett music is like catnip for old people.

So that was my "vacation." On the final leg of my flight home I got to listen to three men discuss NASCAR at length. Never had I hoped for a plane crash so much in my life.

"I got my Hush Puppies on. . . ."

-Jimmy Buffett, sun-burnt and hard-partying 63-year old who was born on Christmas whose music has become widely lauded catnip for old people.