Mr Etherknitter

Mr Etherknitter had a rough flight home after his dreadful skiing accident. Please join me in sending him good wishes and a speedy and full recovery!

Mr E's story reminds me of a time when I was flying over to Europe for a vacation with friends and family. The day before I left, I came down with a horrible cold/flu/something. I figured it was too late to cancel, and that I might as well go. As I was getting off the plane in Toronto (where I caught a connecting flight overseas), a stewardess peered at me, then asked "are you the boy who requested a wheelchair?" (I had short hair then too.) "No," I replied. "Would you like one anyway?" I stupidly declined (the cold must have messed with my brain too), and regretted it half way to my connecting gate... which was *waaaaaay* across the large airport. (There weren't any moving sidewalks either.)

On the flight overseas, we started off with an hour or two of turbulence... which did *not* go over well with my queasy stomach. All I wanted to do was lie down, but couldn't because of the seatbelt requirement. After the fasten seatbelt light *finally* turned off, I asked if there was anywhere I could lie down. No such luck... it was a *full* flight. Luckily my dad and I were in an exit row, so we had a teeny bit of foot room... which I promptly lay down in. I couldn't quite tuck up far enough, and so the trolleys kept running over my toes. At one point, I had to use the washroom. I stood up and stated this, despairing at the length of the line. All the people in line took one look at me, and insisted I go first. (I didn't need it *that* way, but I took them up on the offer.) It does make me wonder what I looked like that day.

I spent the first three days in Germany sleeping, occasionally getting up to eat mandarins. I think I consumed an entire box of them, and nothing else.