Long-distance dada

I'm in San Francisco until Sunday for work and am using the hotel's business office right now to post [never let it be said that I'm not dedicated].

For some reason, our office routed me to San Francisco through Oakland via Kansas City. I think it would have been faster if I had connected in Reykjavik. The first leg was nice and quiet, but when we got to KC, the plane filled up and I got to sit behind the only person in the world who was unaware that she couldn't have her cellphone on during the flight.

I am not some kind of world-weary traveling sophisticate. In fact, I think this is the first time I've flown in more than a year. But even my parents know you can't have a cellphone on during a flight, and their VCR clock is only right for half of each year.

To make matters worse, cell-phone lady had a small child, a very large child, and an even larger husband, who, for reasons I can't begin to comprehend, refused to allow the small child [I'm guessing he was 5] to have the window seat. He himself sat across from the mother and two kids, taking up the aisle seat opposite them. You only need to know this because he spent at least a third of the flight alternately leaning across the aisle to threaten the two kids or actually getting out of his seat to take a swipe at one of them. Good times over the Rocky Mountain west.

I'm sure the nice folks at the Oakland Chamber of Commerce won't use this in their promotional materials, but there's something endearingly shabby about what little of the city I saw. The airport itself reminded me of the one in San Salvador; again, probably not the kind of appraisal you'll be seeing anytime soon on the Oakland Visitor's Bureau website.

That's all for now; lots to do tomorrow, and I catch the redeye back Sunday morning. I miss you, Samson. Get a good night's sleep, and be good for mama.