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The (Insane) Air Up There

June 18, 2012

I travel a lot for work.

I don’t often talk write about it because I consider it rather boring. Many people believe that traveling for work must be glamorous. The truth couldn’t be further from that illusion. In reality, I spend a good portion of the time hold up in offices or hotel rooms, and any air time is spent working so that my already-long days don’t end up stretching any longer.

Today, though, I couldn’t help but notice my row mate on the first leg of my trip to Albany, N.Y. The long-haired rocker seemed to — literally — jam to his own tune. He danced down the aisle in his own time, declaring, “the gang’s all here,” and “cool, dude!”

I immediately imagined that he was a bit of a wannabe Matthew McConaughey. But without the same boyish good looks. Or the same washboard abs.

He slept the majority of the flight, which was great. I worked.

As we got ready to land, though, and I had to put away my computer, I realized that the laid-back surfer-dude beside me was getting increasingly excited. He danced in his seat to his iPod (even though it should have been off) and started snapping photos as we approached the ground.

When we finally touched down, he declared, “Minneapolis, baby!”

I didn’t know what to think.

He turned to me, winked and said, “home of Prince!”

He paused for a couple of beats on whatever song was playing in his head and then — as if he needed to clarify — said, “the purple one.”

Yeah … Got the reference. Thanks.

I have to hand it to him: It was definitely one of the most entertaining landings I’ve experienced in a long, long time.

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