Signs like this one are a constant reminder that I am in Texas, though. Note, I can bring my gun to the local coffee shop. I just have to be sure it’s licensed. Not that I’m completely anti-gun, either. I can see why some people like shooting at targets at firing ranges. There must be some sort of release in all that firepower. Whatever works for you. I’m much more concerned about what it reveals about a person that he or she thinks bringing a gun for morning coffee is necessary. I mean, how afraid of life are you that you think the most benign of daily activities may be life-threatening? Isn’t all that fear exhausting? I remember in grade school, the wimpiest thing a guy could do is bring his big brother to a fight, to kick your butt if he couldn’t handle you. Isn’t a gun just a warped variation of that? That’s what I see when I see someone with a gun strapped to his hip, anyway. I see irrational fear.
On the plane now. A quote from the safety lecture: “We never anticipate a change in cabin pressure, but in case we do…”
Well, I would hope you anticipate a change in pressure as a possibility. In fact, you DID anticipate it, which is why you’re providing us with oxygen masks. Anticipation is the hallmark of good safety. The word you’re looking for is expect. We don’t expect a cabin pressure change. And while we’re at it, what is a cabin pressure change, anyway? Is there any chance we’re talking about the pressure increasing? How about, “While we don’t expect the air to suddenly become unbreathable, oxygen masks will pop down in front of you if it does.”
Sitting in the front row. Behind me, three boys between the ages of 6 and 9, unaccompanied by any adult. How is that even legal?
Thank god for the Sensaphonics earbuds. I’ll be blasting Alice in Chains the whole flight, I think.
