I don't do much of the "diary-blogging" stuff, but a couple things struck me on my trip west today that I just wanted to blather about for my own amusement if no one else's. First, the airline I flew on today was apparently bought out by another yesterday. So we were told when the gate attendant announced the new name to our surprise. But after sitting through various delays caused by fuel pumps that wouldn't pump, electrical glitches, and autopilot warning lights (don't they know how to fly them manually anymore?), I concluded that whatever the purchasing airline paid was, well, too much. Even if it did get to keep its own name.
A few minute ago I checked into my name-brand hotel. Most of you who travel have seen the "Reuse your towels . . . blah, blah, blah . . . water is precious, save the planet" stuff. Now my hotel feels compelled to assure me that "Your bed linens are fresh when you arrive." Did I miss something, or isn't that supposed to be understood? I had my doubts before, but the fact that this hotel thinks they have to convince me they change the sheets reminds me altogether my reaction when I hear a preacher say, "Now this is a true story . . ."