Volando...

Here we go....

After a hectic morning at work it was down through oakland , zipping over to the Mission on BART

and then continuing, carry-ons only, down to SFO where I found the British Airways counter with no problem.

However, I was dismayed to find out that, while I am tall (6' 4'') and a "premium" member of the "One World Alliance" (Little Bandit needs Premium, Dude!!!), this did not gaurentee my usual emergency row seat... That was a bad sign. I have always prided myself on my ability to befreind the helpful ticket agents and stewardess', but apparently in this situation, my charms were not working.
Here's how it goes now in the USA on international flights now that trhe airlines have reduced leg room. I was told that people come 4 HOURS EARLY to reserve the emergency row seats. For those of you emergency seat virgins out there, this behavior dooms the more tardy, tall people who rely on those seats to allow the blood of life to pump through their veins without the horrible cramps of regular economy travel. Emergency rows are first come first serve. However, I believe they are generally reserved for taller people who are extremely uncofortable in the more and more cramped seats in the bulkhead.
So anyway, I don't have a picture, but I was sandwiched in the middle seat between a nice Kiwi software designer and some middle aged couple. All I can say is that I survived by standing and pacing and then finding the landing seat for the flight attendants in the very rear of the plane near the bathrooms, and posting up there for the majority of the flight, enjoying free coctails and the company of several older passangers who are always up roaming the isles due to poor circulation and needs to pee...
Sitting on this little jumpseat, I caught visions of the glaciers of Iceland which we passed over on our great circle route...

At the same moment that the full moon was rising over the glaciers, on the other side of the plane, the sun was rising...