I realize that every time I go somewhere that requires flying, when I get home, I announce in my very firmest voice "I am never going anywhere again." I am a cranky old man with a bad back and I am too tall for the cramped confines of the torture devices airlines laughingly call seats. I can either get my shoulders or my butt to more or less fit where they're supposed to but I can't do both of them at the same time.
So of course, having promised to never leave San Francisco until I do so in an urn, I found myself wheeling off to the airport last week to go visit my brother in Houston. My brother, who still lives in the swamp where we grew up, is suffering through Parkinson's and not doing well. Aside from the physical debility, he also has developed psychosis and has to deal with frequent hallucinations. I was worried and wanted to see for myself how things are going. Spoiler alert: things were not going well.
But what about me and how I suffer? The flights, even in first class, were painful. I am here to report that first class now is what economy class was 15 years ago. Narrow lumpy seats and not enough legroom. Yeah, I will definitely pay extra for that. By the time we were somewhere over Arizona, I was fantasizing about just jumping out. I have a niece in Phoenix, maybe I could land in her backyard.
As usual, food was the best part of my whole time in the old country. I had excellent, excellent Mexican food and we had a large family gathering with most of my nieces and nephews and my brother where we ordered barbecued from a place we all like. Tragically, the beef was sort of disappointing, but the macaroni and cheese and the potato salad and coleslaw were all top notch.
This concludes our travel report, thank you for coming to my TED talk. I am never leaving San Francisco again.
Boys I'll be staying home with:
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