You're a whiney little thing, aren't you?

I travel.

A lot.

I bitch.

A lot.

Surprisingly enough, I don't bitch about travel a lot. I actually enjoy the travel.

It's all the other bastards I have to share my on the road world with that I can't stand!

I often post real time on social networking sites about the funny little things that happen to me while I am interacting with said bastards is semi-real time.

On a recent flight, one of my best friends suggested:

 "You should start writing a travel blog. It would be hilarious to hear of your adventures and your uniquely cynical take on them."

J, be very careful what you wish for!

So here we go. You will get to experience the joys of modern business travel with me. There will be a LOT of bitching about the blue shirted airport monkey groping pervert semi-cops who just want to see me in black and white, backscatter X-Ray, naked glory (TSA agents should have to speak English as a FIRST language to work in US airports!!), observations on particularly nasty flight attendants (with names if I can get em), reviews of hotel rooms, cars, flights, food, etc, etc.

For example:

One of my bigger pet peeves in life, not just on the road, is a total lack of common sense in the generation of rules and regulations. I understand fully that many of these rules are put in place to protect us from ourselves, but some thought should be put in to the implementation.
As in:
Before a plane can push back from the gate, flight Nazi's pace up and down the aisles in there jack boots and brown coats (disguised as sensible flats and blue pantsuit uniforms) ensuring that every single solitary jackass with a heartbeat, including yours truly, has buckled their seat belt low and tight across the hips. The plane will not move until this check is complete and they have reported back to the flight crew (these guys I have REAL respect for and I am truly jealous of their jobs, damn FAA taking my medical away and such). Now, as the plane pushes back from the gate and begins to taxi to the active, they spend approximately 5 minutes describing, then demonstrating, how to buckle my seat belt. Um, the fact that THE PLANE IS MOVING proves, beyond a shadow of a doubt, defensible in any court of law, that I had, in fact, figured out the use of my seat belt completely without your assistance, description, or demonstration. Now, give the seat belt extender back to Shamu and fetch me a Jack and Diet! (look, I'm 6'1" and weigh 250 and I don't need the thing, so if you do, put the burger down and back away slowly!) This is not just Delta (whom you will figure out pretty quickly is the airline I fly the most, being in a hub city and all) but all of the airlines. Hey aging mattress back Barbie, perhaps you should have been explaining the procedure to the uninitiated before we started moving instead of hiding behind the curtain in the galley sipping your Schweppes Tonic Water. And why is the overhead light not working? No, I'm not so deficient that I can't figure out how to push the button. See, no one else's is working either. OH, YOU FORGOT HOW TO PUSH THE BUTTON UP FRONT!! Who feels like a dumbass now? And where is my Jack and Diet?


Now, in preparation for landing, please bring your seat backs and tray tables to their full upright and locked position and ensure that all electronic devices are in the off posi <static>