Pro tip: If you look like anything at all like this when you reach the apex of your vacation, you are definitely doing it wrong.
Unfortunately though, that is indeed a photo of me taken on Wednesday, May 22nd, 2013, when I was actually much much better than I had been. My wife refrained from taking any pictures at the nadir of this story. All of which is why I, writing this up in retrospect, think I’ve just returned from the Apollo 13 of vacations. Or maybe the Fantastic Voyage of vacations, considering that a miniaturized camera and high-tech equipment were sent deep into the nether regions where the Sun. Does. Not. Shine.
But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Even before things began hitting the fan, so to speak, in a way, my timing in getting away on vacation was ill-fated: the week that the Obama administration was very visibly melting down, with scandals on all fronts, my wife and I skipped town for a 9-day long cruise through the Caribbean followed by 3 days visiting friends and family in New York, or at least that was Plan A. Still though, unlike El Rushbo, who always claims to think that bad “Progressive” news happens when he’s away, I don’t think my rep is quite that big enough to say that the Obama-ites deliberately picked this week to implode.
The flight out from San Francisco Airport on Wednesday, May 15th was remarkably uneventful, though the in-flight magazines provided by American Airlines were a hoot. There’s the base magazine distributed throughout the airplane cabin, and “Celebrated Living,” American Airlines’ “Premium” magazine, which can be found in their Admirals Clubs, and onboard their planes, in the first and business class cabins. Nothing tells your executive passengers that they’re part of a swank, exclusive First Class One Percent Livin’ Large elite group like a last-page magazine profile of the drummer from a heavy metal group, with a toothpick dangling from his unshaven mug:
Paging David Brooks — your idea of “bourgeois bohemians” has officially exhausted itself, along with the rest of the American limousine left. And paging heavy metal: the idea that there’s any sort of “rebellion” involved is done as well. Why it’s as if Keith Richards had himself photographed endorsing Louis Vuitton luggage. (Oh wait…)