THE FLIGHT TO HELL IS PAVED WITH SCREAMING CHILDREN

Vancouver International Airport. 9:45pm - Red Eye to Montreal.

Sitting on the airplane and it’s already hot as hell. Everyone has found their seating assignments, there is a child screaming at the top of it’s lungs and the smell of feet has now begun wafting it’s way throughout the cabin.

Bri and I now sit in an exit row watching the safety demonstration and I don’t get it, I mean when you think of all the incredible technical advances in design/engineering, medical science, etc. that, “In case we ‘lose cabin pressure’” (and you need to ‘breathe’), a jello cup with a rubber band falls from the ceiling.

Man, if a seagull flies its ass into my pretzels at 35,000 feet I don’t want some dixie cup dropping into my lap, I want one of them Blue Angel/Snow Bird jobs with the hoses and bullet proof rubber. Seriously, the cuppy thing looks like something you’d get from a Toys R’ Us. “Sorry folks, we’re going down in a fire ball, but ‘till then, we’re all gonna play a giant game of ‘telephone’.”

Montreal. Oh, Montreal. Always wanted to go. So looking forward to this.

The city that is… Jazz. Class. Culture. Women don’t just ‘dress’ in Montreal, instead they embellish themselves with color. Adorn their frames with the finest of fabrics. I’ve often joked that Vancouver is the only city in the world where you can get ‘vintage fleece’. “Your great grandmother wore that fleece hoodie on her wedding day.”

Anyway. Here we sit. On an ‘air bus’. And it is. Interesting though. From the outside they call it a ‘bus’. But once you get inside, they call it a ‘cabin’. Sounds lovely. Perhaps I should just kick off my shoes and put my feet up? Christ, I think the guy behind me just did.

Anyway, Madison left for Gino Vanelli-land earlier this afternoon and Derrick is kissing lobsters in Newfoundland.

But it’s been a day. Yet another. Posters and fliers, dvd sleeves and dvd cases. 400 bucks to the printer. 450 to the duplication house. 250 to Fed Ex (oh ya). And the train kept a rollin’.

God it’s hot in here. Seriously. What the hell is with that? Maybe that’s why they call it a cabin? Perhaps somebody’s stokin’ a fire in the ‘living room’. My chestnuts are roasting. And I’m not kidding about the kid. You’d think his mother was pulling his finger nails off.

Bri just pointed out a giant moth that’s causing a bit of excitement among the passengers. How cool is that huh? Flappin’ up and down the aisle. And I just keep thinking that once we land 3,000 miles from here, is he ever gonna be in for a surprise.

But such is travel right? Nuts. This trip is going to be a blast. Madison has family in Montreal and she gets to share the whole experience with her aunt, whom I believe is like 90 years old. How incredibly cool is that? Taking your 90 year old aunt to a glitzy movie premiere.

Hope she likes Karate’.

God it’s hot in here.

Stewardess just asked, in the event of an emergency, ‘would I be willing to open the exit door.’ I said, “You kidding? No problem. Just don’t ask me to stick around and hold it open for anyone else.”

Cause I’m out of here.