A Very Eightblack Christmas...
Dec 28, 2011, 11:33 am
#151
Join Date: Dec 2009
Location: New York, NY
Programs: AA Gold. UA Silver, Marriott Gold, Hilton Diamond, Hyatt (Lifetime Diamond downgraded to Explorist)
Posts: 6,776
Dec 28, 2011, 1:03 pm
#152
FlyerTalk Evangelist
Join Date: Jan 2004
Location: Worldwide
Posts: 12,949
The next was getting the flights. Where to start? So, I fired up ExpertFlyer and starting tapping away, like a kid who drank too much Red Bull and forgot to take his Ritalin. When that didn't work I fired up another laptop and booted up KVS. Smoke started to belch from both machines. When I thought I had something, I told Skype to do its thing and moments later, I was connected to US Air's IVR.
Dec 28, 2011, 4:36 pm
#153
Join Date: Oct 2006
Location: IAD, and sometimes OMNI/PR. Currently: not far from IAD, but home will always be SAN (not far from the "touch my junk and I'll have you arrested" Memorial TSA Check Point) even if I'm not there so much these days.
Programs: UA, CO, Calcifer Award for Mad Haiku Skillz
Posts: 5,076
Best. Driving. Instruction. Ever.
"Please drive a like a you stole it.”
Number One Son sounds like a great travel companion. Well, except for the whole first-class lav thing. Thanks for sharing this. Happy holidays to you and your family, eightblack.
"Please drive a like a you stole it.”
Number One Son sounds like a great travel companion. Well, except for the whole first-class lav thing. Thanks for sharing this. Happy holidays to you and your family, eightblack.
Dec 28, 2011, 10:20 pm
#154
Join Date: Dec 2010
Location: Tulsa, OK
Programs: AA EXP, UA Silver, SPG Plat, Marriott Plat
Posts: 1,264
Eightblack,
I've never laughed outloud so many times in my life until I read this TR. I even forwarded the text to several non-FT'ers to share it. Truly.. Thank you sir!
I hope your flight home is uneventful.
I've never laughed outloud so many times in my life until I read this TR. I even forwarded the text to several non-FT'ers to share it. Truly.. Thank you sir!
I hope your flight home is uneventful.
Dec 28, 2011, 10:25 pm
#155
Join Date: Dec 2007
Location: DFW
Programs: AA Lifetime Platinum, Hyatt Plat Hilton Gold, SPG Gold, Club Carl Gold, IHG Plat
Posts: 1,002
Dec 29, 2011, 5:31 am
#157
FlyerTalk Evangelist
Join Date: Apr 2003
Programs: UA*Lifetime GS, Hyatt* Lifetime Globalist
Posts: 12,337
OMG! What a report!
I just managed to find time to read this TR!
I am an absolute nerd when it comes to reading TR in this forum, but I actually copied and pasted this TR into a Word File (first time for me) to read it over a few times. Absolutely blowing my mind away from my stress of travel and work.
Eightblack, have you considered (if not already) publishing all your excellently written TRs in the mainstream media (short stories, travel magazine columns, etc.)? I know I would buy it!
Simply fantastic!^^
I just managed to find time to read this TR!
I am an absolute nerd when it comes to reading TR in this forum, but I actually copied and pasted this TR into a Word File (first time for me) to read it over a few times. Absolutely blowing my mind away from my stress of travel and work.
Eightblack, have you considered (if not already) publishing all your excellently written TRs in the mainstream media (short stories, travel magazine columns, etc.)? I know I would buy it!
Simply fantastic!^^
Dec 29, 2011, 8:06 am
#159
Moderator, Trip Reports
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2009
Location: Denver, CO
Programs: UA GS-2MM, Marriott Ambassador
Posts: 3,715
Quite a few years ago, I took up flying lessons. Not fixed wing. Rotary. As in Helicopters. Real flying. My wife blamed this new found interest in piloting to my mid-life crisis. I politely told her that her definition of a mid-life crisis and my definition were sort of diametrically opposed. As in polar opposite. For example, I have a good mate in Australia who decided to have a mid-life crisis with his pilates instructor. Thinking that this be something that I might like to try, I remember asking my wife if I too could play with a twenty-something young person who could put their ankles behind their ears. Sadly, she didn't share my enthusiasm for such an exploit. But she did say that she could easily put any part of my lower body behind any part of my own ears with the aid of a chainsaw.
Anyway.
Not long after you master the basics of flying a helicopter (ie forwards, backwards, side to side and hovering), without killing you or the lunatic sitting beside you, they let you loose and you start doing circuits around the little airfield you train from. Round and round and round you go. Lap after effing lap. You start to lose the will to live.
Pretty soon, and after you've developed a completely unhealthy sense of over-confidence in your piloting skills, your instructor leans over and tells you that you are now going to practice auto-rotating. This is where the lunatic sitting beside you essentially turns the engine off (or simulates this by winding the engine throttle back to idle and pushing a big lever to the floor). Typically, this is not what helicopters enjoy.
He demonstrates. Eery silence as you hear the engine "die" and go into whisper mode. You approach the ground rather calmly. Sort of as you normally do. But in the last little bit, it all happens rather quickly as the ground approaches you. Very quickly in fact.
Then you poo your pants.
Actually, that's not quite true. I think this just happened to me.
Just before you think your family are going to have to fish out your dental records for identification purposes, the skilled instructor washes off most of the speed by pulling on something that sort of looks like a big parking brake (called a collective for those wanting me to use the right terminology) in a car and he flares the machine and you land. And you come to a sliding stop. All looks simple enough. Except for the part that it isn't.
I went through several pairs of underpants and the lunatic beside me got to hear much hysterical screaming before I got the hang of it. The challenge is that while it all makes sense when someone explains it to you from the stress-free environment that is the flying school whiteboard, the very plain truth of the matter is that you only get one chance at getting an auto-rotation right. You're either walking away. Or not. You could say that timing is everything.
The point of this rather silly little story is to try and paint a picture of what scares me. And what doesn't. Auto-rotations don't scare me anymore. I've looked those demons in the eye. However, ask me about my day today. Go on. Please….
Ok, then since you've chosen to ignore me, I will tell you.
Today, I flew with my family. Now that scares me. We're still going on something called a Westjet. It feels as if we've been traveling for days. I feel like Christopher Columbus. Although he probably achieved most of his travels while he was completely sober whereas I have not.
We left The Large One's last night around 5pm. Decided to spend the night at the Hyatt Dearborn. So we would be closer to the airport. Find a decent rate, use a Diamond upgrade certificate and the trusty Garmin gets us there in one piece. The Snow Gods are nowhere to be seen so we count our holiday blessings (or prayers). And would you believe that we are all crammed aboard yet another trusty Chevy Traverse. But this one is all grown up compared to Pepe.
Hotel has found us 2 separate suites, joined together. Kids promptly turn both rooms into a war zone. Restaurant isn't open so kids proceed to tip me right over by ordering room service. As in all of it. The staff have to use the service elevator to deliver all the food to our room. The delivery person hangs around like a bad smell, waiting for a tip, but they have already added 17% gratuity to the bill so I wave him off, telling him that for what I have just paid - he should be sending me a pilates instructor and a can of dairy whip.
Or something like that.
Thankfully, everyone conks out soon after they have eaten. I have a small matter of a rental car that looks like it wanted to be a farm tractor and it is covered from head to toe in Michigan mud. Some moron decided that because it had a Chevy logo on it and because it was allegedly a SUV that it would be fine to take down a track on the family farm.
Except for the fact that the only thing American about this silly vehicle was the state of registration. Everything else was Korean.
Ok, and that moron who decided to practice his 4WD skills would be me. As in yours truly. Extended family thought me getting bogged up to my nuts (as in wheel) was hilarious. As in too funny. Until they had to come push me out. Then much laughing from me, as the hillbilly cousins learned very quickly that the little Chevy that couldn't was only rear wheel drive and a spinning rear drive axle-shaft going in reverse, connected to large round things called tyres, with my foot firmly buried to the floor tends to spit mud towards the front. Which is where they were standing - pushing.
Much Michigan cussing. Much Australian laughter.
Wife however was very unimpressed as she was fearful that we would be hit up for a massive cleaning fee. Given that I had to refuel the car anyway, I decided that once the family were all asleep, I would go in search of a gas station with one of those do it yourself car washes.
I mean how hard could it be.
Except for the fact that I took a wrong turn out of the hotel and within minutes was in a rather rough part of downtown Detroit. As in I think I nearly made another mess in my underpants.
It was at the local Citco gas station on West Warren. Google Maps tells me I was in the leafy suburb known as Warrendale, which all sounds quite peaceful and civilized, doesn't it. It truly was rather frightening at 10pm at night. In addition, the untrusting owners of petrol stations in the US nowadays, rarely let you purchase fuel anymore before prepaying. So off I go into the little store and peer through what would have to be 4-in thick bullet proof glass. Hand them my card through a revolving plexiglass contraption. Man grunts and says how much fuel do I want to pre-purchase. I say I have no idea, I just want to fill the tank. The man, sensing an altercation, takes one look at me, one look at the car, and then says $30. I say fine.
All matter of people stream in. Buying cigarettes, gum and the odd rocket propelled grenade launcher, as well as prepaying for $5-6 bucks worth of gas. The 30-seconds it must have taken them to run my card was the longest 30-seconds of my life. Clearly I was out of my comfort zone.
I pretended to saunter back to my car (I'm sure pee was running down my left leg) and fill the car as quickly as I could. I decided that to hell with a finding a car wash at this hour, I would simply make a run for it back to the hotel. Which I did.
When I got back the valet guy was standing there and asked me if I needed help with the car. I explained the predicament and he said, oh thats cool, we'll just have the rental car folks pick it up from here in the morning, so you wont have to frig around with dropping it back to the airport. But what about the mud, I quipped. He waved it off as nothing.
Feeling most pleased, I went up to the room and decided that I did in fact, deserve a jolly good drink.
Our flight was at 8.41am. I had everyone up at 6am. The rest of the crew were downstairs in the lobby at 6.45am. I thought I would double check with the nice folks at Enterprise Car Rental to see if they were in fact cool with collecting the car.
"No, Sir, we don't do that anymore"
"What?"
"Yes, we don't pick up cars from Dearborn anymore"
"Why not?" I demand
"Because we don't…" she says firmly
"But the Valet from the Hyatt said you did. Or do."
"Was his name Vince?"
"Er Yes"
"Yes, Vince doesn't actually work at the Hyatt"
I begin to wave my arms in the comfort of my own room - but then the phone goes dead. I decided not to try and make sense of the conversation...
Mild panic started to set in. I bolted downstairs and had to yell at someone to retrieve the keys and then run around like a banshee in the the rainy slushy snow to find the car. It was like that scene from Home Alone, where the family sleep through the alarm and then set off in a mad panic. In fact, it was exactly like that. I find the silly car, charge back to reception, literally throw the bags, kids and wife in the back and charge off at a frightening speed to the Enterprise returns at DTW.
We're at the car rental returns by 7.10. In the shuttle by 7.15. All is well. I hope.
Then we have to get 10-bags on 2 trolleys (don't even start me with the amount of luggage we had). Find the Delta Premium Desk (or whatever the hell it is) and wait. Some well dressed businessman charges into the area and does a very decent DYKWIA impersonation, thinking that all these scruffily dressed people cannot possibly belong here. He starts complaining. I start smiling because were in front of him and know that it is going to be March 2012 before we are all checked in and ready to go.
Amazingly, tagging the bags all the way through to Kelowna was child's play. I had booked this particular leg of the journey on Orbitz, and would you believe, found a great routing (ie DTW-LAS-YLW). As I was navigating my way through the booking process, the Orbitz machine asked if I wanted to upgrade the DTW to LAS legs to F for $69 a piece. Hell yes. To save on waiting in a queue, with no Delta status, 2 kids and a wife who thinks that traveling with the kids isn't really all that hard. Plus a mountain of luggage. I'll take 4 thank you very much.
The leg from LAS to YLW was on Westjet, which is a one-class carrier. Would worry about telling Number One Son that little detail later.
Get to the gate at DTW, where the flight is close to getting ready for departure. Wife and The Small One and Number One Son decide that they are hungry and go off in search of something to eat. I start foaming at the mouth. They promptly ignore me and disappear into the labyrinth that is DTW.
I don't fly Delta. At all. Even though they now fly to SIN and probably just about everywhere else I want or need to go. I think, as a result of FT, I've heard too many bad things about Skypesos that it has scarred me for life. Probably for no good reason.
As you would expect, the flight is jammed. To the rafters. The impatient woman on the desk starts calling for volunteers. No one budges. The upgrade list for F rolls on from one page to the next.
As were sitting there in the cosy F cabin on Delta's 757, son turns to me and says...
"Dad, is this economy?"
"No this is First Class" I say matter of factly.
"You're kidding…"
"No, I am not"
"Where's economy then?"
I point behind me and then ask if would he like to try it.
Profanity spews from his 11-year old mouth which would make a sailor blush.
But you know what. I couldn't fault Delta. Firstly, because of the interline agreement with Westjet, they were able to tag our bags all the way and issue boarding passes for both flights. The onboard service was fine - they had no trouble delivering Bloody Marys or Chardonnay at 8am in the morning. Ok, the breakfast was some sort of egg-substitute product, but tell me which US airline has got catering to an acceptable level. See you couldn't - could you?
At least DL have onboard wifi and the movies are free. That part of the journey was most excellent. All in all, an uneventful flight despite the mad rush to the airport earlier.
Then we transit through McCarren. That was a little more stressful. We had to head to the B gates, and clear security again with a 1hr 10 connect time. Much screaming by me, much ignoring by the rest of the clan. The kids wanted more crap to eat. Wife decided that she might like one of those shoulder massages. I told her she could marry the guy if she wanted as pretty soon I'd be taking the flight solo to the snow.
But we made it. The Westjet flight is also jammed to the gills and Number One Son is demanding my credit card so he can watch an onboard movie.
I hand it to him, lean over and whisper in his ear…
"Now this is economy…." and smile.
Anyway.
Not long after you master the basics of flying a helicopter (ie forwards, backwards, side to side and hovering), without killing you or the lunatic sitting beside you, they let you loose and you start doing circuits around the little airfield you train from. Round and round and round you go. Lap after effing lap. You start to lose the will to live.
Pretty soon, and after you've developed a completely unhealthy sense of over-confidence in your piloting skills, your instructor leans over and tells you that you are now going to practice auto-rotating. This is where the lunatic sitting beside you essentially turns the engine off (or simulates this by winding the engine throttle back to idle and pushing a big lever to the floor). Typically, this is not what helicopters enjoy.
He demonstrates. Eery silence as you hear the engine "die" and go into whisper mode. You approach the ground rather calmly. Sort of as you normally do. But in the last little bit, it all happens rather quickly as the ground approaches you. Very quickly in fact.
Then you poo your pants.
Actually, that's not quite true. I think this just happened to me.
Just before you think your family are going to have to fish out your dental records for identification purposes, the skilled instructor washes off most of the speed by pulling on something that sort of looks like a big parking brake (called a collective for those wanting me to use the right terminology) in a car and he flares the machine and you land. And you come to a sliding stop. All looks simple enough. Except for the part that it isn't.
I went through several pairs of underpants and the lunatic beside me got to hear much hysterical screaming before I got the hang of it. The challenge is that while it all makes sense when someone explains it to you from the stress-free environment that is the flying school whiteboard, the very plain truth of the matter is that you only get one chance at getting an auto-rotation right. You're either walking away. Or not. You could say that timing is everything.
The point of this rather silly little story is to try and paint a picture of what scares me. And what doesn't. Auto-rotations don't scare me anymore. I've looked those demons in the eye. However, ask me about my day today. Go on. Please….
Ok, then since you've chosen to ignore me, I will tell you.
Today, I flew with my family. Now that scares me. We're still going on something called a Westjet. It feels as if we've been traveling for days. I feel like Christopher Columbus. Although he probably achieved most of his travels while he was completely sober whereas I have not.
We left The Large One's last night around 5pm. Decided to spend the night at the Hyatt Dearborn. So we would be closer to the airport. Find a decent rate, use a Diamond upgrade certificate and the trusty Garmin gets us there in one piece. The Snow Gods are nowhere to be seen so we count our holiday blessings (or prayers). And would you believe that we are all crammed aboard yet another trusty Chevy Traverse. But this one is all grown up compared to Pepe.
Hotel has found us 2 separate suites, joined together. Kids promptly turn both rooms into a war zone. Restaurant isn't open so kids proceed to tip me right over by ordering room service. As in all of it. The staff have to use the service elevator to deliver all the food to our room. The delivery person hangs around like a bad smell, waiting for a tip, but they have already added 17% gratuity to the bill so I wave him off, telling him that for what I have just paid - he should be sending me a pilates instructor and a can of dairy whip.
Or something like that.
Thankfully, everyone conks out soon after they have eaten. I have a small matter of a rental car that looks like it wanted to be a farm tractor and it is covered from head to toe in Michigan mud. Some moron decided that because it had a Chevy logo on it and because it was allegedly a SUV that it would be fine to take down a track on the family farm.
Except for the fact that the only thing American about this silly vehicle was the state of registration. Everything else was Korean.
Ok, and that moron who decided to practice his 4WD skills would be me. As in yours truly. Extended family thought me getting bogged up to my nuts (as in wheel) was hilarious. As in too funny. Until they had to come push me out. Then much laughing from me, as the hillbilly cousins learned very quickly that the little Chevy that couldn't was only rear wheel drive and a spinning rear drive axle-shaft going in reverse, connected to large round things called tyres, with my foot firmly buried to the floor tends to spit mud towards the front. Which is where they were standing - pushing.
Much Michigan cussing. Much Australian laughter.
Wife however was very unimpressed as she was fearful that we would be hit up for a massive cleaning fee. Given that I had to refuel the car anyway, I decided that once the family were all asleep, I would go in search of a gas station with one of those do it yourself car washes.
I mean how hard could it be.
Except for the fact that I took a wrong turn out of the hotel and within minutes was in a rather rough part of downtown Detroit. As in I think I nearly made another mess in my underpants.
It was at the local Citco gas station on West Warren. Google Maps tells me I was in the leafy suburb known as Warrendale, which all sounds quite peaceful and civilized, doesn't it. It truly was rather frightening at 10pm at night. In addition, the untrusting owners of petrol stations in the US nowadays, rarely let you purchase fuel anymore before prepaying. So off I go into the little store and peer through what would have to be 4-in thick bullet proof glass. Hand them my card through a revolving plexiglass contraption. Man grunts and says how much fuel do I want to pre-purchase. I say I have no idea, I just want to fill the tank. The man, sensing an altercation, takes one look at me, one look at the car, and then says $30. I say fine.
All matter of people stream in. Buying cigarettes, gum and the odd rocket propelled grenade launcher, as well as prepaying for $5-6 bucks worth of gas. The 30-seconds it must have taken them to run my card was the longest 30-seconds of my life. Clearly I was out of my comfort zone.
I pretended to saunter back to my car (I'm sure pee was running down my left leg) and fill the car as quickly as I could. I decided that to hell with a finding a car wash at this hour, I would simply make a run for it back to the hotel. Which I did.
When I got back the valet guy was standing there and asked me if I needed help with the car. I explained the predicament and he said, oh thats cool, we'll just have the rental car folks pick it up from here in the morning, so you wont have to frig around with dropping it back to the airport. But what about the mud, I quipped. He waved it off as nothing.
Feeling most pleased, I went up to the room and decided that I did in fact, deserve a jolly good drink.
Our flight was at 8.41am. I had everyone up at 6am. The rest of the crew were downstairs in the lobby at 6.45am. I thought I would double check with the nice folks at Enterprise Car Rental to see if they were in fact cool with collecting the car.
"No, Sir, we don't do that anymore"
"What?"
"Yes, we don't pick up cars from Dearborn anymore"
"Why not?" I demand
"Because we don't…" she says firmly
"But the Valet from the Hyatt said you did. Or do."
"Was his name Vince?"
"Er Yes"
"Yes, Vince doesn't actually work at the Hyatt"
I begin to wave my arms in the comfort of my own room - but then the phone goes dead. I decided not to try and make sense of the conversation...
Mild panic started to set in. I bolted downstairs and had to yell at someone to retrieve the keys and then run around like a banshee in the the rainy slushy snow to find the car. It was like that scene from Home Alone, where the family sleep through the alarm and then set off in a mad panic. In fact, it was exactly like that. I find the silly car, charge back to reception, literally throw the bags, kids and wife in the back and charge off at a frightening speed to the Enterprise returns at DTW.
We're at the car rental returns by 7.10. In the shuttle by 7.15. All is well. I hope.
Then we have to get 10-bags on 2 trolleys (don't even start me with the amount of luggage we had). Find the Delta Premium Desk (or whatever the hell it is) and wait. Some well dressed businessman charges into the area and does a very decent DYKWIA impersonation, thinking that all these scruffily dressed people cannot possibly belong here. He starts complaining. I start smiling because were in front of him and know that it is going to be March 2012 before we are all checked in and ready to go.
Amazingly, tagging the bags all the way through to Kelowna was child's play. I had booked this particular leg of the journey on Orbitz, and would you believe, found a great routing (ie DTW-LAS-YLW). As I was navigating my way through the booking process, the Orbitz machine asked if I wanted to upgrade the DTW to LAS legs to F for $69 a piece. Hell yes. To save on waiting in a queue, with no Delta status, 2 kids and a wife who thinks that traveling with the kids isn't really all that hard. Plus a mountain of luggage. I'll take 4 thank you very much.
The leg from LAS to YLW was on Westjet, which is a one-class carrier. Would worry about telling Number One Son that little detail later.
Get to the gate at DTW, where the flight is close to getting ready for departure. Wife and The Small One and Number One Son decide that they are hungry and go off in search of something to eat. I start foaming at the mouth. They promptly ignore me and disappear into the labyrinth that is DTW.
I don't fly Delta. At all. Even though they now fly to SIN and probably just about everywhere else I want or need to go. I think, as a result of FT, I've heard too many bad things about Skypesos that it has scarred me for life. Probably for no good reason.
As you would expect, the flight is jammed. To the rafters. The impatient woman on the desk starts calling for volunteers. No one budges. The upgrade list for F rolls on from one page to the next.
As were sitting there in the cosy F cabin on Delta's 757, son turns to me and says...
"Dad, is this economy?"
"No this is First Class" I say matter of factly.
"You're kidding…"
"No, I am not"
"Where's economy then?"
I point behind me and then ask if would he like to try it.
Profanity spews from his 11-year old mouth which would make a sailor blush.
But you know what. I couldn't fault Delta. Firstly, because of the interline agreement with Westjet, they were able to tag our bags all the way and issue boarding passes for both flights. The onboard service was fine - they had no trouble delivering Bloody Marys or Chardonnay at 8am in the morning. Ok, the breakfast was some sort of egg-substitute product, but tell me which US airline has got catering to an acceptable level. See you couldn't - could you?
At least DL have onboard wifi and the movies are free. That part of the journey was most excellent. All in all, an uneventful flight despite the mad rush to the airport earlier.
Then we transit through McCarren. That was a little more stressful. We had to head to the B gates, and clear security again with a 1hr 10 connect time. Much screaming by me, much ignoring by the rest of the clan. The kids wanted more crap to eat. Wife decided that she might like one of those shoulder massages. I told her she could marry the guy if she wanted as pretty soon I'd be taking the flight solo to the snow.
But we made it. The Westjet flight is also jammed to the gills and Number One Son is demanding my credit card so he can watch an onboard movie.
I hand it to him, lean over and whisper in his ear…
"Now this is economy…." and smile.
Dec 29, 2011, 8:36 am
#160
formerly known as lady1964
Join Date: Jan 2011
Location: Yorkshire
Programs: BA Bronze
Posts: 1,181
Hahahaha, I nearly spat my tea out at that bit - brilliant
Dec 29, 2011, 2:53 pm
#161
FlyerTalk Evangelist
Join Date: Feb 1999
Location: Seat 1A, Juice pretty much everywhere, Mucci des Coins Exotiques
Posts: 34,339
Wow, excellent trip report! And good on you for taking Italy as it comes. I travel there often (3 trips in the last month) and I have learned to very much enjoy it's unique take on things. And the pasta. 
Dec 30, 2011, 4:04 am
#163
FlyerTalk Evangelist
Join Date: Mar 2010
Location: JER
Programs: BA Gold/OWE, several MUCCI, and assorted Pensions!
Posts: 32,146
Dear eightblack,
Today it is pouring with rain, and both the OH and I have started really substantial head colds. We are busy cleaning and preparing for lunch guests on Sunday. The Cat is stuck indoors, and attacking everything that moves out of boredom.
None of this matters ... as you have again cast sunshine on my day. Thank you. ^
Today it is pouring with rain, and both the OH and I have started really substantial head colds. We are busy cleaning and preparing for lunch guests on Sunday. The Cat is stuck indoors, and attacking everything that moves out of boredom.
None of this matters ... as you have again cast sunshine on my day. Thank you. ^