|These are respectful, patriotic stunt breasts. Do not try this at home.|
I’m on Woodford Reserve on the rocks #3, I’ve just had a pretty good inflight dinner, and Jerry Butler is belting out an R&B classic in the noise reducing earbuds.
Before that it was some Fatboy Slim while I worked on some delicious short ribs, ZZ Top while I finished the salad and started on the all natural vanilla ice cream.
Everything has gone smoothly so far today. The seat up in J is nice and wide, the Delta service is great, I’m comfortable, the sunset is lasting forever, and I’m on my way to Las Vegas.
I have a case of happy tummy and a mysterious smile on my face, the smile that comes just before the stupid plastered smile. But I won’t go there. I’m going to surf this wave of sweet delight just as long as I can.
After all, Good Vibrations has just come on shuffle.
So back to the train ride. It was great! Here’s the comparison.
The Aerodrome Way
Leave home. Half hour to Flusherville Regional Aerodrome. Park and pay $100 or so. Wait for about one hour while checking phone 500 times to see the plane you need hopefully coming from Toronto. Hope there are no mechanical delays. Hope there are no weather delays
|This clock is from 1855. It gets wound once a week.|
|Talk about luck! I happened to be in the station the moment they pretended to wind the clock because I asked them to for a photo.|
Land in Toronto and it’s 15 minutes of taxiing while your assbone grinds against they plywood seats.
Get of the plane, walk across the tarmac, and walk to the gate. It’s now 3 hours.
If everything doesn’t go perfectly, it could be waiting for 2 or 3 hours in Flusherville, shitting Air FU Canada shaped bricks the entire time, barely making it to Toronto, and running for you flight. Or maybe not making it at all and going back home after 5 hour investment. I’ve done that more than once.
|Somewhere on this cart there is a Caesar.|
Now let’s look at the Lamondo Way.
Lamondo picks you up and drives you to the train station. 15 minutes. You are 15 minutes early for the train. It arrives.
2 hours 30 minutes to Toronto while you sit back, relax, and take rude pictures of your wife or something. The seats are comfortable, there’s food and drink, no parking charges, and you can get up and crop dust if you need to.
There is incredibly high quality In-Roll Entertainment that you can bring yourself.
|How many times has Mr. Ted Lange had to repeat the Isaac the Bartender Point and Smile routine?|
And now it’s a metalized version of Beat It courtesy of Fall Out Boy - one of those remakes that is worthy and maybe better than the original (Edward Van Halen guitar solo excepted, of course).
Where was I? Ah yes, the train service. They even gave out Remembrance Day poppies. I gave the Quad Queen mine, so she could wear both of them in an uplifting display of support for our veterans.
I know they would approve.
At Union Station, grab the PU to Pearson. 35 minutes max. 3 hours 35 minutes and you’ve had a way more comfortable ride.
It should be noted that when flights are cancelled out of Flusherville Regional Aerodrome, they send you on the train.
Anyway, a very good experience today.
|It has kept the grandeur of its heydey in the early 1900s when it was used for dirigible storage.|
As mentioned, we got a nice second breakfast, and the bar opened at noon. So Caesar for me, vodka for the lady.
Contentment music report - Bruce is perking me up with a slapback echo-infused blaster Stand On It.
More train stuff - they brought around mints. Little things of Tic Tacs in cellophane. I declined because Tic Tacs are evil.
Tic Tacs taste great at first and refresh your mouth - and when they are dissolved, your mouth tastes all gross and mungy and there is only one relief possible and that relief is to eat more Tic Tacs. It’s kind of like smoking, except with mint.
|This is as close as we'll get to... you know Who FU... on this trip.|
When I was a young guy running Royal Flusher Records, we tried to sign Lonnie after I got hooked on his music, which I mostly found in delete bins. This cosmic shit was way ahead of its time and so was I, and I have the original vinyl to prove it.
I understand that Lonnie Liston Smith has now got a minor cult following in the slightly burgeoning millenial space bachelor pad music scene. My early support for bongos and those tinkly dingly chimes things that you drag a pencil across to sound cosmic clearly has played its part.
We had to wait a few minutes for the PU but that was okay - we got to Pearson in plenty of time. Security was a breeze, except for encountering a cereal killer who was just out to get some kick on the way.
|That is nine ways fucked up.|
Harrumph! I think not!
I vowed to drink the difference on the flight.
And here I am.
Next stop, Slat Lake City, and then a short hopper to Las Vegas.
I just hope that we have time to raid the Delta lounge in SLC!