This morning I was thinking this week’s post would be about the power of apologizing.  You know, there’s lots of great stuff written about gratitude,  appreciation, and even forgiveness, but less air time for saying you’re sorry.

Then I got on a plane with a stomper in front of me and a screamer behind me and I felt like breaking style and going on a bit of a rant.

For starters, the seating was so tight, the seat pockets (normally in front of you to hold magazines, barf bags, and errant gumwrappers) had been removed so that one’s knees could be squeezed in. Then no matter where i put my feet, the guy in front of me found a way to smash his clodhoppers into my toes. Here are a couple things I wanted to say to that guy:

“Dude, those things that you are slamming into are attached to a human”

“How about if you continue to  interrupt my attempt at meditation, I’ll start acquainting your forehead with the tray table in front of you?”

Then the guy all too close behind my right ear is sharing every adventure of his last ten years with his unfortunate seat mate. He has no confidence in the capacity of the human voice to project the necessary six inches, so he is belting it out so the captain – 20 rows ahead – could join in. To him I fantasized about saying (recalling Steve Martin to John Candy in Planes, Trains, & Automobiles)

“Here’s an idea – when you’re telling a story – have a point, make it amusing, it makes it so much more entertaining for the listener … Or at least keep your freakin’ vocal decibels below the turbo engine.”

I  feel purged. In addition to all the high-minded, good-hearted stuff I write about, I suggest you allow yourself a good rant now and then.

 

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