Monday, November 18, 2002

Well, as I am wont to say, at the asscrack of dawn I'll be sprinting out of bed to gather up camera gear, clothing and a few other small items (cd's of choice this trip = DJ Shadow/The Private Press, Tricky/Blowback & Daft Punk/Discovery, usually travel with Radiohead but I'm trying to be inciteful), what you others call "packing" and then driving to that hospital-aroma-ridden place full of treakly art and goofballs that they call the airport.
Lead Boy Colleague said that if I get to the USAir gate and there's a certain guy working I'm supposed to say that I know him and all that jazz. Why, I asked, so I can be graciously bumped up to first class?
I know Hillary C flies first class between the Middling City and Warshington, but does anyone else partake of the joys of inflight segregation besides politicoes on such short trips?
Hey, welcome to first class to NY Miss Parisi, here are some extry peanuts for your pleasure.
Still not sure about flying to Seattle for a gig after NYC to shoot the disco event at EMP.
If I end up doing that that'll be one primo primo tale.
Whirlwind Love.

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