The down and dirty---I used to jump out of planes about 31 years ago. Once I had kids, I became skittish and did not fly (or take unnecessary risks) unless necessary-unless I could have a parachute. Since a parachute is not considered carry on luggage, I became a white-knuckled, martini drinking, sociable passenger. The better to numb the anxiety. Here is what it took to get to New York: A bottle of wine before leaving, 2 martinis at PBIA, 2 scotches on the plane, 2 martinis at ATL and 2 scotches on the plane to Westchester County Airport. I had to practically be poured into my mom's car. I make no apologies. I also did not consume as much as a root beer during my stay....Nuf said.
Friday, July 25, 2008
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