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To: ComradeBrehznev who wrote (74881)	12/10/1999 6:27:00 AM
From: lee kramer	Respond to of 120523

(OT) Home again. Hooked up my 'puter. Such prices! The trip back was uneventful. Well...not quite. Suzy and I go to the little airport. From there we take a "puddle-jumper", small plane that resembles a VW camper, only smaller. Sits 6 people plus the pilot. I always thought the pilot was the most important person on the plane, 'cause he drives. But I was wrong. The guy with the toughest job is the fellow behind the counter who checks you in. He's gotta get everyone's weight and the weight of the baggage; too much weight and the plane has a nasty tendency to lose altitude fast and meet the sea. So he asks me and Suzy how much we weigh. We tell him. As we turn away a lady who stands six-foot eight siddles up to the counter. You've heard the expression "The opera doesn't end until the fat lady sings?" Well, this lady ends all operas. The clerk behind the counter says "And what is your weight mam?" "Hundred and 12" she says firmly. (She must go 325,easy.) The clerk nods, scratches something on his pad. Suzy and I look at each other. The plane's gonna drop into the ocean like a cement block dropped from the Eiffel Tower. Suzy pops a coupla valium. I down a stiff drink. We board the plane. The pilot guns the engine and we're maybe five feet from the end of the runway, engines groaning, when we barely lift off. From there it's up, down, up, down. What a flight! But we make it. Suzy pops more valium, I have another double shot. Next, we get on the big plane for the ride to Logan Airport. We're both tired, frazzled, lookin to sleep three or four hours. We find our seats, settle in. Who plops down in the seat in front of us? The lady who ends all the operas. She hits the button that pushes her seat back. I'm outta room, lookin like a pretzel. I try to sleep. But the lady who ends the operas talks non-stop to her seat-mate. Whenever I nod off she hollers to make an important point. I nudge Suzy. "What's she talking about now?" I ask. "Curtains" Suzy says. The opera lady talks about curtains for 600 miles. "Lemme know when she's through with the curtains" I plead. "But when she gets to doilies, wake me if I'm snoozing. I wanna hear about her doilies." A lovely trip we had. (Lee)