The Professor
		8.21.06
	Flying First On a recent flight home from the west coast, I found myself with the suprising fortune of a first-class ticket. I don't know why or how this came about, and I don't much care. As I basked in the luxus of a full-sized chair, which had beckoned my arrival with a wool blanket and the promise of a pre-flight drink, I stared at the panorama outside my window: the first such view without the obstruction of a wing, an engine, or the seat in front of me. I pushed by seat to its fully reclined position -- and, believe me, it was a recline sufficient for a longer and deeper sleep than the restless upright slumber one experiences in the main cabin. And I stretched my legs out, allowing them to fall casually as they pleased underneath the next seat forward. Remember the in-flight bag of peanuts? Remember when they were replaced by lousy pretzels, usually about 6 or 7 to a mini-bag? Well, apparently no one in first class got the memo about the hazards of tree nuts, especially the pistacios, almond, and cashew mix that I enjoyed out of a warm bowl. It was a pretty salty treat, though, which made me glad when the flight assistant (Taylor's her name) dropped by with a moist towlette. It was a satifying snack -- a great prelude to the main course. Over the loudspeaker in the cattle cabin, I heard what was on tap for the in-flight lunch: nothing. Well, nothing unless the folks wanted to shell out $4.00 for some crackers and cheese, topped with something the flight attendant referred to as a "beef stick". I wouldn't ask. After the warm dish of pistacios, almonds, and cashews, I was getting a healthy appetite worked up, though, so even a little cheese-cracker action was beginning to sound mighty good. That's when the sweet voice of Taylor came my way. "Today we have a fresh turkey wrap or a chicken salad sandwich. What would you like?" Well, I opted for what might be one of the freshest turkey wraps I've ever had for an in-flight meal. Juicy slices of turkey wrapped up with corn and green peppers, embraced by lettuce and a fiesta-red flour tortilla that was pasted closed with flavored cream cheese.  That, along with the pasta salad, cheese-and-crackers (that's spreadable cheddar and cocktail crackers, if you please), and shortbread cookies, was certainly quite enough. Washed down with a glass of chardonnay, the meal ended with a crisp, relaxing accent that required me to put the seat back on full recline. Now, as the ground below turns from desert hues to the more familiar quilt of fields and farmland, I realize that my time as a first class passenger is coming to an end. I would be nice to live farther east -- to enjoy a glass or two more of chardonnay, another bowl of mixed nuts, or perhaps just the friendly company of kind Taylor, but all things (good and bad) have to give way to all things next. In my case, it's the home leg of my flight back home, on a considerably smaller plane without the first class cabin that's made me home for the past two hours. After that, there's a yard to tend to, a house in desparate need of a spring cleaning, and a loving family with a baby that spits up on my jeans five times a day, on average. As the wine wears off and Taylor avoids eye contact in her rush to make preparations for the next onrush, though, I can't say that I'm not looking forward to the next things.
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