08.26
Red Carpet Club, Heathrow Terminal Three.
What a Dopy Old Goat! Too stupid to be allowed to travel long distances alone to faraway places. This morning he has arrived for long journeying without reading spectacles. Pooey pooey
The Minx will not be at all surprised. I occasionally catch her glancing at me as if to say well, you may be old & stupid but at least you’re not incontinent. (Cf Toyah’s November newsletter).
At other times, she gives me instructions on how to cross public thoroughfares lest I wander into oncoming traffic, although this is perhaps a function of being half blind, as well as stupid. Sometimes, I wonder whether my Wife believes her husband occasionally incontinent as well. Better she not learn of this present witlessness, or she will be convinced that sentience is in the past tense for The Man Who Leaves Her Constantly.
The spex are most likely in the Happy Gigster’s Shopping Basket, a holddall of items placed in the front passenger seat while driving to London en route for places abroad. The HGSB is presently in the back of my car, parked outside Chateau Minx in Chiswick, my opportunities for reading in the basket.
This is not a problem, only a difficulty - unless you’re half-blind, dopey & traveling unaccompanied on international flights, that is. This will be dealt with in Seattle.
20.12 Hotel Acceptable, Uni District, Seattle.
Left…
Centre Right…
The first flight – London>Chicago: once onboard my adjoining passenger sniffed reliably ever 40 seconds. After several minutes of this, I anticipated (based on thousands of miles of accompanying Booby-Sniffers of the Male Variety - all my Boobiest pals have been male, I report) was that Mr .Booby-Sniffer of UA929 on this given day would not be able to unseat and/or dislodge whatever he was sniffing, given whatever length of time available (8.5 hours to Chicago). Noise Cancellators stayed on my head for most of the flight, so I am unable to report whether the sniffing reached an end point, or not.
A swift transition through immigration & customs procedures, a must to make a connecting flight, straightforward train-ride to the relevant terminal, a relatively easy transition through security for the flight to Seattle.
The second flight – Chicago>Seattle: the passenger on my right was a Throat Booby. At the beginning of the flight, before Noise Cancellators were applied, heroic efforts to clear something-or-other failed several times. At the end of the flight, with NS removed, similar attempts were continuing to be made, also without success.
Travis the Good was waiting in baggage claim, a cheerful face to greet a weary Traveling Gigster, and delivered me to Hotel Acceptable. This last part of a long journey, too tired to protect oneself from opportunist local taxi drivers, is a point of vulnerability. A pal waiting is a considerable lift to the journey.
My usual room at HA had been reserved & confirmed, and I had it in writing to prove it. The hotel lied. The room was not available & there was no record of the room reservation. But it’ll be OK tomorrow! We’ll see whether the first lie of the Devil applies here.
John, arrived in town this afternoon at the end of the Adrian Belewbeloid tour, delivered my guitar so I can get practising for the sessions with Jeff Fayman next Monday & Tuesday.
Dribble.
"The simplest is the most difficult to discharge superbly."
