Wine o'clock, somewhere over Ohio
I must confess, I was not quite my usual festive self at Thanksgiving this year. All day long I was thinking about the TV interview the next day.
Partly I was concerned about it going well, but mostly I was worried about getting up on time (4:20 am) and being clear of head and white of cornea enough to do a decent job. In the end, it went great, as can be seen here.
But it did put a damper on the evening before. I had to get to bed early and I had to forego the wine at dinner. These occasions are dangerous -- every time you turn around somebody's filling your wine glass. By the end of the evening you don't know if you've had three glasses or thirty-seven.
I was feeling fairly cheated, but then my reward came at the end of the day, when I was upgraded to first class on the flight home. (Not on my own merits, mind you -- I have the good fortune to run with a super-platinum crowd.)
And that is where the bottomless wine glass came into play. Hoo-boy. Good thing it was just a two-hour flight or I might not have woken up 'til Sunday.
It was wonderful to see how the other 1% lives. I could really get used to it. In fact, flying is barely a chore when you've got endless leg room and a giant cushy seat.
The only downside? The plane was configured so first class boarded to the left and coach to the right. So I didn't get the chance to look elite to all those people streaming back to their sardine can seats.
Probably they'd be thinking the same thing I think when I file past: how did this schmoe rate?