nude highway driving

Overheard from the breakfast table this morning as she was looking at the local paper:

“Jesus, all the suffering that’s going on in the world and all the people who could use help and some woman pays $50,000 for a fucking cat?”

After yesterday’s quickie about the bus ride (they have little kiosks where you get 10 minutes of high-speed Net for 100 yen all over the airport), I zipped through immigration so I could get some duty-free sake before getting on the plane.

I know I’m a dork, but I was excited to fly Northwest, which in Japan is marketed as NWA. I just wanted to fly a plane with a big-ass NWA on the side (cause I’m Old School like that). All flights come straight outta Compton. I even enrolled in the “Fuck Tha Police Frequent Flier Program.” Plus, I figured they were a good airline after they won my heart with the ability to print my boarding pass before I got to the airport.

Now I think they should change the name to SWA, for “stewardesses with attitude.” I understand why some of my Japanese friends will not fly U.S. airlines when they travel abroad &#8212 they like a polite flight crew who treats them well, not a gang of angry white women who want you to know they hate their jobs. It began immediately, when I noticed a suitcase behind my seat (last row before the divider wall). I thought: “This probably belongs to an attendant, but I should be security-conscious and ask just in case.” I flagged an attendant.
Me: “Excuse me, I noticed a bag behind my seat. Does it belong to the flight crew?”
Her: “Yeah, what do you want?”
Me: “Nothing, I just thought I should check …”
And then I watched her turn around and walk away as I was still talking. The other wonderful incident occurred with an elderly Japanese woman in front of me. Breakfast was being served, and the attendant asked her what she wanted. She started asking for something in Japanese. Instead of getting someone who could translate, the attendant just stood there and said “I have no idea what you’re saying. Here, why don’t I give you this and we’ll figure out if it’s right?” Hello? You’re working on a Tokyo-Detroit flight. Duh.

Overall the flight wasn’t painful (I just didn’t ask the scowling stewardesses for anything), and I was glad nobody gave me a hard time about my seat back being reclined, since it refused to lock into place. I think we were on somebody’s cousin’s special-bargain plane, as I noticed other people with seat trouble, too; one of the bathrooms had flushing issues, and the little map that told us where we were kept freezing. Or maybe I was just bitter that the in-flight movies included “Without A Paddle,” which is today’s hot young stars doing “Deliverance,” and “Raising Helen,” another heartwarming Kate Hudson vehicle.

Landed in Detroit no problem (the highlight of which was the attendant announcing it was 12:45, curious since that’s one hour ahead of Eastern time). I saw the fancy main terminal that had a water fountain (oooh) and a neat-looking electric tram for lazy Americans. I thought about popping into the “online Cafe” for a burger and to check e-mail, then I noticed they charge $6 for 15 minutes of online use. (Rule of thumb: Anything more expensive than Tokyo is a ripoff.) So I walked through the “space tunnel” of neon lights and flashback-inducing sound effects and headed for the special terminal where they put all the tiny prop planes going to places such as West Virginia. There’s basically one customer-service desk for about 19 gates and it’s surrounded by an angry mob because half the flights are delayed. You then go through a door to a long hallway along which all the planes park. I knew I’d have no trouble finding the Charleston flight &#8212 I just looked for the scary people.

We waited an hour on the ground (which is also the total flight time) because there weren’t enough people working to load suitcases on all the planes, watching our overzealous (but very nice) flight attendant check all the bags to make sure they really were under the seats in front of us and even examine our electronics to make sure they were, in fact, turned off.

Now I’m here, I just had an amazing night’s sleep, and I can’t wait for the culture shock of walking into the local Wal-Mart. It’s kinda like walking onto a military base, in the sense that everyone’s wearing camouflage and they all own guns. Where it differs is none of these people are in shape and none of them should be allowed to own firearms.

More from the front lines later.

On the bus from ANA Hotel to Narita, I heard the Japanese announcements say something about cell phones, and I assumed it was an overly polite plea to not use them. Then the English translation said: “Passengers are reminded to not use cell phones while on the bus, as it annoys the others.”
Yeah! Raaar! Why can’t they have that announcement on every train, bus, plane and store in America?

Who from “back in The Day” wants a special edition G.G. Allin iPod for Christmas this year? All proceeds go to microphone sanitation research.
If you’ve lost your “taste” for G.G., there are many other fine models to choose from here.

The Korean Anti-AIDS Federation asked the public a couple months ago to help them come up with a Korean name for “condom” so they could begin their safe-sex campaign. The public picked aepil, which roughly translates into “the necessity in having sex.” The organization was all set to launch their campaign when they started getting complaints from people named … Aepil. Turns out there are maybe 10 people in South Korea with this name.

The federation doesn’t want to offend anyone, so they’re going to ask for a new name next year.

First, I think it’s a little silly to delay a safe-sex campaign because a few people have the same name as the newly designated Korean word for condom. On top of that — why are these people complaining? They have the greatest name in South Korea. “Hi — I am the necessity in having sex. Bow down before me! Er, I mean, uh … bend over before me.”