Greetings, my fellow port swillers and stand back – I don’t want to infect you.

Yes, ol’ Robbo spent most of the day today in bed, down with a stomach flu which seems to have come a’calling at Port Swiller Manor.   And in that time he had a couple of his patented bizarro dreams, which frankly seem to have been on sabbatical for a while.  I can’t remember the one, but the other is very clear still in my mind.  Would you like to hear about it?  Oh, good….

Well, it seems that I was on an airliner, a wide-body, flying to some resort destination or other.  It was a long flight and people around me seemed resigned just to hunker down and tough it out, when all of a sudden the stewardess appeared at the front of the cabin, determined to turn the situation into a flying party.

I recognized the woman:  About four or five years ago I found myself making numerous trips back and forth to Cleveland on biznay.  At one point, we were flying out every week, sometimes twice a week, and it got to where we knew the flight crews pretty well.   (It was a Continental regional jet and there was only the one attendant  each time.)  This woman was one of them, and the reason I remembered her was that she started her pre-flight safety routine every time with a lame joke about us being en route to Honolulu.  (Nobody ever laughed.)

Anyhoo, in my dream she got up and announced that she and a golf pro who was onboard were going to have a driving contest, hitting from tees just behind the cockpit and aiming at targets on the aft bulkhead.  Once again, nobody laughed.  Indeed, they didn’t even seem to react.

I happened to be sitting right up front and to one side, so I knew the stunt wouldn’t affect me directly, but I thought it pretty hard cheese on the people sitting in the potential flight paths.

Go figure what all that might have been about.

Oh, the other thing I recall is that the flight was a bit bumpy, but it didn’t bother me.