Location, Location, Location
I'm 30 kilofeet above the Missouri River, westbound from IND to DEN, with (United tells me) eight minutes to get from Gate B24 to Gate…?. It's blank. Doesn't say. I guess we'll find out.
Update over Nebraska: We need to get from B45 to B25 in 8 minutes or less. It'll be fun if we make it. [Update later: we made it, just under the wire, and it was—perhaps also for others in the thick crowds who might be amused by the sight of a geezer with a packpack ambulating at speed down long concourses (one with an inconveniently disabled moving sidewalk between gates.]
Meanwhiles
I tend to use seatback screens on planes only to show a map of where we are, while I look out the window and shoot photos. (Here are 19,411 examples.) But the ground between IND and DEN was undercast, so I thought I'd try a movie, since on new and refurbished planes United now provides a bluetooth connection to one's headphones and ear pods. The first movie I tried to watch was Spinal Tap: II the End Continues. I liked the original too much to stick with it, and thought of more funny things they could have done with the script than they did, so I punched out after about ten minutes. Then I tried Mission Impossible: The Final Reckoning. I had trouble figuring out what was going on while all the time studying Tom Cruise's 63-year old face (seemingly always in close-up) for signs of aging. I didn't see any and got bored anyway, so I went back to the map and listened to a podcast on my phone, providing an example of what I wrote about on Tuesday.
Oh my god!
I know Louis CK got canceled and all, but what he said here before that happened is still true. I'm living it now. In a chair. In the sky.
Predicting the predicting
I fear I will come to hate coverage of politics through prediction markets as much as I hate coverage of sports through gambling. So does this guy.
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