Farewell to arms

So this the last hours and minutes of San Diego.
A storm has rolled up from the south, carrying rain and fantastic vistas across the Eastern Pacific. I’ve been chased from one side of the country to the other by rain.
How pleasing to be free at last of work, to have an end to the week.

How great it will be to get home at last. There is just one pillow in the world I’m after and no 5 star hotel can do better than the pillow sitting on my bed.
I’m looking forward to my cats, my dogs, my wife. Its always hard coming home, it takes me a day or two to get use to Karin. She is not a very flexible character, but she has learnt to try and keep the house in a semblance of tidy. But I’m always in a bad mood once I step off the plane. One of my theories is the absence of personal space.
So many and such a small area, that and I hate airline food and have been screwed around a good few times while travelling for work.
It does make wonder when the ‘Jet Age’ died, because to tell you the truth – I missed it. These days there are no cocktails, people in sharp suits, looking suave and smug and exciting. And don’t hold a mirror up to me kids, ‘cause you are sure as hell not going to see me looking any better than the dishevelled zombies usually hanging limply in a chair throughout airports anywhere in the world.
But there is no faster way of travelling. My suggestion (thus legitimising my complaining) is for someone clever (that ain’t me by the way) to invent some kind of virtual world total immersion thingy. For example say your stuck on a flight for 8 hours, would you rather a; sit there eating shitty food, in a crappy seat with bad airconditioning that messes with your ears…..or……slip into the holodeck or whatever and go fishing or rockclimbing or whatever you think will take up 8 worthwhile hours of your life. It’s the least they could do I tells ya.
I just think that would be fun, I just hate wasting my life in pressurised tin cans, watching tiny movies and drinking heavily.