from the desk of marco adler, tour manager
The squeal of landing gear descending from the body of the plane woke me up. Penn-U.S. Airlines flight 6920 touched down in Key West. You must be thinking, "Key West... the southernmost point of these United States... warm weather and flowing booze."
But NO. I awoke on the tarmac in Key West, Minnesota! Some 2,255 miles from my intended destination.
Instead of hot sun and salty air, I was now hearing a cacophony of cows mooing in the distance. Winds howling off the ugly, flat facade of rural Minnesota.
I must be in hell, I thought. As I collected my bag from the lone luggage carousel, I figured that if I'm in Key West, I must get a Blue Hawaiian. Then it dawned on me: the town I thought I loved--the place so dear to my heart--it didn’t exist! Not even a human soul in sight! Certainly no bar.
All I can say is "moooooo."
I am proclaiming that as the official town slogan of the lowly, boring town of Key West, Minnesota. Next time, I should really lay off the Blue Hawaiian doubles. It's causing me to do some crazy things.
“This is your captain speaking. We've begun our final decent into Sioux Falls. We would like to thank you for flying with Penn-U.S. Airlines... and a special thank you to our loyalty members. We feel the pulse of your loyalty each time you fly. Cabin Crew, prepare cabin for arrival."
Sioux Falls, South Dakota.
Who in their right mind would visit such a desolate and remote corner of America? Is it the allure of yellow pastures, or the rocks that you can buy from a local Dollar General?
To me, it’s the sense of being so far from home. And while I lie on a Motel 6 mattress after a long day at the pool, it finally hits me--nobody visits a place like this, and I must be insane.
I guess I should lay off the Sky Club mimosas every once in awhile.
“Good afternoon from the cockpit, folks. We'll be touching down in New Bern here in the next twenty minutes. Before we do, a quick thanks to our loyalty members for flying with Penn-U.S. Airlines. As we like to say, we feel the pulse of your loyalty each time you fly with us. Sit back and relax. Flight attendants'll come through momentarily."
"New Bern, North Carolina?" you may ask.
After all, it is the birthplace of a regional shibboleth...a sugary, unhealthy diabetes-drink called Pepsi. There's a certain waft there. The air stinks of sticky, overcooked chicken tenders and F-350 diesel fuel.
For me, New Bern is a spot where the common man (a "man of the people") can rise up above the establishment and take charge. After all, the citizens are bloated with the above sugary diabetes drink, so what are you waiting for? Head on down, and we'll have the rocking chairs warmed for ya.