Bingo!

Oh man…

from The WOW Report

Green Eggs & Salmon

Just up the street from home is a tiny little place called Farm:Table.  Only ate there one other time, when I was home with my broken elbow, and had a fantastic prosciutto and mozzarella sandwich.  Stopped by again today and ordered salmon with hard-boiled egg and yogurt-dill sauce.  I was expecting something more sandwich-like, rather than the open-faced little morsels I got.  But they were very tasty (the eggs still warm – mmmm…) – and just the right amount since I’ll be dragging my fat-ass to the gym shortly…  Another plus: very handsome tattooed young man placing an order as I left – though I think I might’ve been staring in way that was creepy…  Actually, I guess I’m at the age now where any staring I do would be considered creepy…

As a queen, don’t I outrank a bishop?

Was reading NYTimes on the bus and came across this: Some Roman Catholic Bishops Assail Health Plan.  Now, that headline should’ve been enough for me to know not to read the damn thing, since I don’t need to set my blood a-boiling first thing in the morning – but I cast caution to the wind…  And was treated to this quote:

“No health care reform is better than the wrong sort of health care reform,” Bishop R. Walker Nickless of Sioux City, Iowa, declared in a recent pastoral letter, urging the faithful to call their members of Congress.

Are you shitting me? I can just hear “His Excellency” now, telling a starving man that “no food is better than the wrong kind of food” – y’know, just like Jesus would’ve done.

Of course, their real concern is to guarantee that any federally administered or mandated health care plan must not include any provision that allows women to control their reproductive choices. And Democrats are even trying to ensure that no federal money goes to pay for abortions under the current plan.

(A)ny health insurance plan that does cover abortion — whether government-run or private — would be required to segregate its government subsidies from its patients’ premium payments so that no taxpayer money would pay for the procedure. And all patients would have the choice of plans that do and do not cover it.

While I suppose this is simply a political reality of the times, it’s pretty fucking outrageous.  I don’t get to steer my taxpayer money away from programs that I find immoral (like say the torture of CIA detainees).  Why make an exception for this particular medical procedure?  It’s maddening.  Nevertheless, it’s insufficient for some in the Catholic church, who will only support legislation that specifically prohibits coverage of abortions under any circumstances.

Bishop Nickless then delivers his coup de grâce:

“The Catholic Church does not teach that government should directly provide health care… Any legislation that undermines the vitality of the private sector is suspect.”

So Christ was a laissez-faire capitalist! Thanks for clearing that up – though could you provide some documentation?

Seriously, it makes me wish I believed in Hell, if only to take some comfort from knowing that’s where this jackass would wind up.  I mean seriously, can you just see this a-hole at the pearly gates, explaining to St. Peter that he worked to prevent 50 million people in the U.S. from gaining access to health care because he was concerned about the “vitality of the private sector”?  I can hear the angels all laughing their asses off…

Dog-Day Afternoon

Il Cane Rosso at lunchtime.

Finally got around to trying Il Cane Rosso at the Ferry Plaza a few days ago.  After not too much deliberation (though most everything on the menu sounded good), I had the porchetta sandwich (roast pork, greens and pluot mostarda).  The pork was great – not-too-thinly sliced, juicy, savory with a crispy exterior.  Bitter greens and sweet-spicy mostarda were a good foil – as was the side of bread-and-butter pickles. All in all a fine and tasty sandwich – though at $10, it was not the least expensive take-out I’ve had.

Porchetta sandwich

I must say, I was sorely tempted by the special of the day: penne with short rib sugo.  But it just seemed too decadent to eat for lunch – though I’ve come to regret my decision to forgo this dish.  Plus, the fact that I only (ha!) got a sandwich was sufficient excuse for me to pick up a banana cream tartlette from Miette…  So much for a demure lunch.

Oh, and if anyone at Il Cane Rosso happens to read this: three tweets a day from a take-out restaurant is too many.  I followed you and then quickly unfollowed you after the messages started piling up…  Once a day is plenty I think…

Why, Girl on MUNI with Headphones?

You boarded the southbound 30-Stockton at Union Square, just as I did.  And for whatever reason, even when I saw you simply waiting for the bus, you got on my nerves.  Was it because you were waiting for the bus at the wrong end of the boarding island?  Or perhaps just a flash of ESP on my part as to what would ensue once on-board?

At Market St., hordes of people pushed their way on as new hordes pushed their way on.  One of the new passengers was apparently a colleague of yours, since you greeted him and initiated a conversation from two rows away.  You did not remove your headphones – and I’m guessing you didn’t lower the volume on your iPod, as you proceeded to talk at him in an inappropriate volume.

You: HI THERE! HOW ARE YOU?  NOT BIKING TO WORK TODAY?

Him: No, not today.

You: DO YOU ALWAYS TAKE THIS BUS? I DON’T THINK I’VE SEEN YOU ON HERE BEFORE!

Him: Yes, if I don’t ride, I take this bus.

You: WELL, I USUALLY TAKE AN EARLIER BUS! I GUESS THAT’S WHY I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU! IS THIS THE BUS YOU USUALLY TAKE? FUNNY WE HAVEN’T SEEN EACH OTHER!

Him: <inaudible>

He then opens a book and begins to read.  Which, after a brief pause, you apparently and quite mistakenly took as your cue to continue your “conversation.”

You: WHAT ARE YOU READING?

Him: <inaudible><shows you cover of book>

You: HAHAHA! WE SHOULD GET EVERYONE A COPY OF THAT AT WORK! HAHAHA! BLAH, BLAH, BLAH… YADDA, YADDA, YADDA…

It was at this point that I leapt from my seat and started screaming in your face, “SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP! You’re talking too loud because you’re wearing those G.D. headphones while you’re talking!  And can’t you leave that poor sap of a co-worker alone?  He just wants to read his book in peace! He doesn’t want to talk to you – on MUNI or anywhere else for that matter!  He probably hasn’t even had his coffee yet! What kind of monster are you?”

OK – I made that last part up…  But I’m sure I’d've received a standing ovation had I done it.  I did give her the side-eye while alighting from the coach, though…  That’ll teach her…

Teddy, We Knew Ye Well…

“The work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives and the dream shall never die.” -Edward M. Kennedy

Much will be written about Ted Kennedy (here’s a pretty good warts-and-all assessment from Gawker) by folks far more talented, erudite and knowledgeable than I.  But here’s my two-cents: our biggest loss, besides an old school liberal who fought the good fight for nearly half a century, is that of an accomplished legislator.  And I mean that as a high compliment.

Look at the Senate today, filled with grandstanding buffoons, focused primarily in self-promotion, ideological purity and their own petty interests.  Despite a Democratic majority, we have the craven Harry Reid leading the party, always with a quick answer as to why he can’t pursue the agenda of his own party (he’s been doing this since GWBush was in office, and continues to do so, despite a filibuster-proof majority in the Senate); DINOs like Dianne Feinstein (who won’t meet with constituents to discuss health care and, who I’ve heard from a reliable source who worked in the Senate, is rather a dim bulb); insane wingnuts like Tom Coburn (who wants abortion to be outlawed under any circumstance) and Sam Brownback (who doesn’t believe in evolution.  “Ew!  Too sciencey.”)

Senator Kennedy, despite whatever personal flaws he may have had (I’d rather have a functional alcoholic senator than a non-functional sober one), was able to shepherd bill after bill after bill through the Senate.  Some highlights:

The Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965, the National Cancer Act of 1971, the Federal Election Campaign Act Amendments of 1974, the COBRA Act of 1985, the Comprehensive Anti-Apartheid Act of 1986, the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990, the Ryan White AIDS Care Act in 1990, the Civil Rights Act of 1991, the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996, the Mental Health Parity Act in 1996 and 2008, the State Children’s Health Insurance Program in 1997, the No Child Left Behind Act in 2002, and the Edward M. Kennedy Serve America Act in 2009.

He fought for the poor, the oppressed, those who our society had overlooked or passed by.  And he was able to work with Republicans in order to reach consensus and get laws passed – and how better to measure the effectiveness of a member of the Senate?  A senator who is able to legislate…  Imagine all that could be achieved if we had just a handful of current senators (of either party) who were even half as effective at deliberating and passing legislation.  And look how much we achieved having just one Ted Kennedy…

As JFK said, “To whom much is given, much is required.”  Ted Kennedy was given much and gave us much more in return.

Yes, I’m lazy…

I know it’s a cop-out to just post a mildly amusing video, but what’re you gonna do? I don’t have anything in particular to rail about/against at the moment – plus I’m busy working during the day and watching TV in the evening.

At any rate, I admire the stoicism of the Czech reporter in this piece – almost as much as I admire the grinning guy with the arm around his shoulder. Comedy gold.

from Gawker

South Pacific

Well, it’s been a week since Chris and I saw South Pacific in NYC…  And every day since, I still find myself humming (or more often singing) “Some Enchanted Evening” or “Bali Hai.”  I’ve been lucky enough during my life so far to see many fine and memorable shows performed on Broadway and in San Francisco.  But I don’t recall ever spending a night at the theater as magical as last Friday.  This production was perfection: the cast, the orchestra, the set, the venue, the costumes, Lt. Cable’s bare chest (but I digress…).  And of course the music and lyrics are as lovely as ever.  An enchanted evening indeed and a night I shall remember forever.

When I first thought about a trip to NYC to see a bunch of shows, I brought it up to Chris over dinner – asking if we could maybe go to NYC for my birthday.  His response?  “Sure, let’s go.”  To quote Nellie Forbush, I’m in love with a wonderful guy…

Here’s a little taste of what we got to see – though needless to say, seeing the entire production at Lincoln Center is beyond compare.  Nonetheless, I challenge you not to get the shivers (or if you’re anything like me, the weepies…) when Paulo Szot sings…

Henri, le chat noir

So, are all cats inherently French?  Or are the French simply very cat-like?  Either way, this short film captures that certain je ne sais quoi of both species…

thanks Claudine!

Our last bite of the Big Apple.

Eyes bloodshot, face smeared with mustard. Glamorous!

Sunday was another grand day.  Made it down to Katz’s and their pastrami sandwich lived up to its reputation.  It was delicious and had substantial restorative powers… which were much needed after the previous evening’s bar crawl.

Then a quick tour of MoMA before heading back to Broadway for our fifth and final show of our gay-stravaganza Weekend, Billy Elliot.  And it was great…  The music was fine if ultimately forgettable, but the dancing was marvelous, the cast amazing and the story fascinating.  And, for the first time, we didn’t have to shush anybody!

I should be so good at my job...

After the show, back to our digs in Murray Hill for a lie-down and a shower before meeting Sue and Mark (Chris’ friends from D.C. who happened to be in town) for dinner at Bread Bar at Tabla, a sort of nouveau/locally-sourced Indian place.  Really great cocktails (I had a super-refreshing and delicious watermelon mojito), followed by a very mediocre dinner (oh well).  Then back up to Hellsea for a last round of drinks at Therapy with Mikey and Justin.  Of course, Chris and I continued on to several other boites before the night ended. At one place, we met a charming young Frenchman with a bandage on his arm.  Thinking perhaps he’d had a run-in with side-view mirror similar to my own, we inquired as to his injury.  His story beat mine: he’d been stabbed in Guatemala.  Adventurous!

I'm in love with a wonderful guy...

Monday morning we got a late start, had breakfast and planned to ascend the Empire State Building…  But the line was long and our time was short, so we just walked around for a bit and had a glass of wine before heading to JFK.

All went well with our flight (incredibly, Chris and I had an empty seat between us again – and the plane was packed…).  The one little hiccup in our flight was the woman two rows ahead of us who apparently had a mild case of the crazies – at one point she was yelling to no one in particular that one day all secrets would be revealed and everyone would know the truth.  A bit later, she started shrieking at the top of her lungs.  It was super!  Don’t know what they did, but the crew managed to keep her relatively calm for the remainder of the flight and John Law was waiting at the gate at SFO to escort her off.

We got back to our apartment via taxi and were panhandled immediately upon arriving at our front door.  Welcome home…

“What recession?”

Bike lane, physically separated from traffic – like Market St. in SF should be…

Worth the price of the plane ticket.

I’m in love with a wonderful guy…

I should be so good at my job…

Eyes bloodshot, face smeared with mustard. Glamorous!

The Bronx is up and the Battery’s down…

I didn’t schelp my camera around yesterday, so here’s a quck rundown:

Breakfast donwstairs at the Barking Dog – it was adequate.

Park Ave was closed to auto traffic until 2PM – bikes and peds only, so we walked up and around Grand Central, took a left at the Seagram’s Building and went to the matinee of Next to Normal.  It knocked our socks off – can’t recommend this show highly enough.

The kitchen in our hotel room... Actually, part of the installation we saw downtown.

Quick subway ride down to SoHo to the Black Acid Cooperative, where they have a full-building art installation of a meth lab.  It was like a home-made haunted house for grown-ups.

A late lunch in the garden  at Barolo (an amazing house-made burrata con prosciutto followed by an unremarkable insalata Cesare and a just OK tortino de seppie).

"What recession?" Hordes of theater-goers thronging the Palace Theater to see West Side Story.

Then a quick shower at home before West Side Story – which was, in a word, disappointing.  Still very enjoyable – dancing was fantastic, music as lovely as ever and Maria had a beautiful voice.  But Tony was miscast in my view – his singing was too pop; he tended to sound nasal and sang with his head voice rather than his chest.  In other words, he’s no Larry Kert.

And there was a horrible German woman in front of us, who was continually translating what was happening onstage to her decidedly unsightly child. Chris and I both asked her separately to stop talking – which minimized, but did not stop, the offending chatter.  Plus, she gave me a dirty look – like I was being unreasonable.  The usher was called during intermission…   That seemed to do the trick.  I was tempted to announce loudly, “Wasn’t it bad enough that you exterminated six million of my relatives?  Now you have to ruin West Side Story?”  But that seemed out a bit out of proportion to the situation.

Chris racks 'em up.

Then a whirlwind of gay bars with a liberal smattering of hot bartenders, followed by a good night’s sleep.  Up and at ‘em today – going to Katz’s Deli and Billy Elliott…

The city so nice, they named it twice…

The view from our hotel room. Le sigh...

Why have I stayed away so long?  New York is in many ways unrecognizable from when I was last here more than ten years ago…  Yet it is also the same.  I’d really sort of forgotten what its like to be in a real city.  I still love SF – but NYC is the shit…  And SF could take a lesson on how a real city gets it done – the streets are clean, transit is fast and efficient, there are tons of bike lanes separated from auto traffic, streets are being closed to cars and opened to pedestrians.  Despite the giant buildings and roaring traffic, the city feels amazingly people-focused…  It’s great.

Chris at the High Line

At any rate, we slept in today, rising at the crack of 10:00 after going to a play last night, having drinks with our old friends Mikey and Justin and then hitting a few gay bars.  Big fun (especially getting to break it down on the dance floor to Madge’s “Celebration”).  After breakfast, we took a stroll down the High Line, the new park on top of the old elevated train tracks on the west side of the Meatpacking District.  It’s a fantastic space and being 30 feet above Manhattan gives one a previously unseen view of the town.

Nice ice cream lady. But ice cream just OK...

Saw the  Van Leewun Ice Cream truck once we finished our walk down the High Line.  I’d read about it and it sounded great – essentially a Bi-Rite Creamery on wheels.   But the ice cream was just OK – my strawberry was decidedly unfruity.  But the lady who scooped for us was very nice and we chatted about SF and ice cream.

Ambled through MePa with a detour past my old digs on West 15th – the palladian staircase is no more, but the building itself looks a lot nicer than back in my day.  Jumped on the subway and headed to the Met for a quick run-through: sculpture garden and Temple of Dendur were as delightful as always.  Then a long walk down Mad Ave (we tried Fifth but it was so gross and mobbed, we hightailed it back to Madison after a block).  Now, wine and naps at our hotel before we head out to see “South Pacific” tonight.  So, set your watches to about 8:30 EDT – that should be about the time Emile starts singing “Some Enchanted Evening” and I’ll be weeping like a baby…  Well, actually, I’m already getting teary-eyed thinking about it…

“Meh, whatever…” Apparently one of my ancestors.

The view from our hotel room. Le sigh…

Chris at the High Line

Nice ice cream lady. But ice cream just OK…

Yes, I’m blogging from 35,000 feet.

Updating my blog while flying – exciting!  But also – not so much!  Because flying is really boring…  I am happy to report, however, that Chris and I managed to get what appears to be the only free middle seat on the plane – God, there really is nothing better than seeing that airplane door close while there’s an empty seat next to you…

The crew on the plane is 100% sausage-fest.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Just not sure I’ve ever been on a flight with an all-male crew – and only one of the three cabin attendants appears to be a queen.  The times they are a-changin’…

We also departed on time – despite some confusion with seating arrangements for some other passengers.  Despite having boarding passes that indicated they were seated in 19D and 21F, they chose to sit in seats 7E and 7F.  The passengers assigned to 7E and 7F were a bit puzzled, but it got sorted out quickly enough.  But really?  Did the interlopers really think no one would notice?  Or were they just obtuse?  Eh, whatever – I’m still savoring the empty seat to my right.

Anyhoo, on-time departure means we should arrive at JFK at 3PM, giving us plenty of time to see a play tonight.  We’re hoping to get tickets to Mary Stuart – Queen Elizabeth vs. Mary, Queen of Scots – a story I never tire of, despite knowing how it turns out (spoiler alert: not well for Mary).  That’ll make it five shows in four days…  A true gay-stravaganza weekend.

Hate to post without a picture or video to spice things up – but the onboard photo I took of myself using my laptop is not flattering.  Kind of like one of those grainy shots of Bigfoot, only instead of Bigfoot it’s Rosa Klebb… And yes, I am wearing my poison-tipped shoe.

So, instead: funny dogs!

Hell no! Hell no! Hell no-oh-oh-oh-oh…

Been awhile since I posted Auto-Tune the News – mainly because none have made me both laugh and tap my feet quite like this one (although Episode # 7 is worth watching if only for Katie Couric’s line re. the dangers of texting while driving: “could turn an LOL into a great big OMG.” Sing it, sister…).  But Episode # 6 is pretty darn good – who’d've thunk that the break-out star of this one would be John Boehner?  And crazy Michelle Bachmann comes off well too.  I mean, her “singing” does – she remains completely insane.  Seriously. No joke…

And by the way, his last name is pronounced “Boner” not “Bayner.” – I don’t care how many times he tries to fancy up the fact that his last name is a synonym for an erection.  I long for the day when I hear all the news readers reporting, “Today on Capitol Hill, Congressman John BONER of  Ohio, yadda, yadda, yadda.”

Also, he is orange.

I’ve solved health care reform.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph – have you seen the crazies at the town hall meetings to “discuss” (i.e. shout down any discussion of) health care reform?  Now, while I may disagree with those who oppose making any changes to our current system to deliver health care (to those lucky enough to have insurance), I think that some opponents have legitimate concerns about the current plan.  But not these people…

video lifted from this post on Gawker

I love the Fox news reader referring to these fucktards as “informed and articulate”…  That is rich.

For example, the first dame going on about the 74-year old man with cancer who will have healthcare withheld – presumably by the “Death Panels” (I assume they’ll also be in charge of the mandatory baby-killing that is also a major part of the current reform plan) that the astroturfers are shreeing about.

Actually, I think it’s really sad that we can’t have a public discourse about end-of-life health care.  Today, that 74-year-old man with cancer will receive extraordinary levels of care and treatment to extend his life – in the hospital, surrounded by strangers, hooked up to machines and undergoing painful and invasive procedures.  And this might extend his life by only several weeks.

But what if he were given other options?  The option to forgo treatments?  To stay in his own home?  To have his family by his side?  No one is suggesting that one course of treatment is the “right” choice – only that patients should have the facts to make the decision that is right for them…

Of course, regardless of this hypothetical dude’s decision, the new “Death Panels” will just swoop in and kill him proactively, so I guess the point is moot.

At any rate, back to my solution: those who oppose health care reform may opt out.  We’ll throw them a bone or something (maybe a $500 annual tax credit), so they can be assured that none of their hard-earned dollars are going to provide health care to brown people, murdering fetuses or euthanizing old white people.

But once you opt out, that’s it. You don’t get to change your mind. Ever. You lost your insurance?  Too bad – you’ll need to pay for any doctor or hospital visit before any services are rendered.  Can’t afford it?  Oh well – looks like your decision to opt out was a bit shortsighted, wasn’t it?

And no exceptions either.  You show up bleeding at the ER, you’d better have insurance or one of those large sacks with a “$” on the side stuffed with cash.  Otherwise you get no treatment – not even a Band-Aid.  And the triage nurse will escort you out while saying, “Nyah, nyah, nyah.”

Then, as you lie on the sidewalk, trying but slowly failing to keep pressure on your peskily spurting artery, you think to yourself, “Gee, maybe I was wrong.  Maybe it would be a good thing if everyone in this country had access to decent health care.  Maybe the ideas enshrined in the Declaration of Independence – that ‘all men are created equal’ and that ‘life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness’ are inalienable rights – really are worthy and noble and that the government should be doing all it can to preserve, protect and defend those ideas.  And maybe, if I can just stanch the flow of blood from my arm, I’ll turn over a new leaf.  I’ll work to make real reforms in the way our country works – rather than just blindly following the latest shouting points provided by Rush Limbaugh.  And isn’t Rush Limbaugh enormously wealthy?  Maybe his interests aren’t the same as my own.  Maybe I’ll start thinking independently, and reading and studying so I can have an informed opinion on issues that are important to me.  And maybe…”

And then you die.

Oh, and when you die, that’s it.  No angels, no harps, no smiling Jesus high-fiving you for your intolerance-disguised-as-piety, no tunnel with a bright light at the end with long-dead relatives and Santa Claus beckoning you forward…  You’re just dead and all is oblivion. The end.

Jesus, can’t He take a hint? I’m sooooo blocking him…

OMG, Jesus, it’s over…  You need to move on with your life.  I’m with Odin now and that’s not going to change…

from gizmodo

R.I.P. John Hughes

Chris and I just caught the last half of Sixteen Candles on one of the movie channels last week.  It’s quite amazing how the movie still works so well.  Yes, part of its appeal is the ’80s flashbacks for hair, clothes and music.  But the film also stands the test of time: Molly Ringwald as the charmingly jolie-laide birthday girl;  Anthony Michael Hall’s cringingly accurate portrayal of the leader of the nerds; the comedy gold of Joan Cusack at the water fountain in her back brace; and the completely authentic depiction of teenage angst and agony that brought both Chris and me right back to our awkward years in high school…

In reading the various tributes to John Hughes online, someone pointed to a scene from She’s Having a Baby (a movie I’ve never seen).  I was surprised to find out that one of my favorite Kate Bush songs was not only used to great effect here – it was actually written specifically for the scene after John Hughes sent her a clip and asked her to come up with something.  It’s a quite marvelous collaboration.  And do keep in mind that if you’re a sap like me, get out your handkerchiefs before watching…

J’adore ce chat…

My French is rusty at best…  But apparently Laetitia and Guillaume are hiking from Miami to Ushuaia – a 9000 mile trek – with a budget of €1 per day and reliance on the kindness of strangers.  A rather amazing quest – made all the more so when one learns they brought along Kitty “le globe trotter”.  There’s also a much longer (and much cuter) video – though it’s all en français.  But you’ll get the gist of it even if you don’t speak a lick of French.

Seriously, though, this is one lucky cat…

Damn you to hell, soda machine guy.

Hyperbole, perhaps – but also completely true.

from passive-aggressive notes

I’LL HAVE ANOTHER RUM PUNCH, PLEASE!

For some reason, Princess Juliana Airport in St. Maarten has been all over my radar lately.  I stumbled across some YouTube videos of planes landing there (see below – it’s freakin’ amazing).  Then it came up while I was watching World’s Sexiest Beach Bars (ew – I know…  I was channel surfing and became mesmerized) and they mentioned the Sunset Beach Bar on Maho Bay – right at the foot of the airport’s runway.  Then, this week in Ask The Pilot on Salon.com, he responded to a question about this airport and it’s “dangerous” reputation – which of course he debunked.  The only thing unusual about this particular airport is it’s proximity to a lovely tropical beach – but the approach and landing are no different than any other airport.

At any rate, am I completely weird for wanting to go here?  I just think it must be amazing to sit on the beach (or in the water), watching commercial jets come screaming in for a landing directly overhead all day – especially while sipping on a tropical drink.  And I’ll bet I’d want to do this for more than a day…  Anyway, the photos below give some sense of the awesomeness.

¡Ay Caramba!

From Ask the Pilot: “At least one shot from the Airliners archives does seem to show a jet touching down a hair short of the threshold markings — something that is very much not supposed to happen.”

Gulp... And note the two people huddled in fear by the cyclone fence...

Finally, some live-action.  And if you find this as fascinating as I do, just search for Princess Juliana Airport on YouTube and you’ll find plenty of other videos.  Some of the best ones show what happens if you’re standing on the beach when a 747 spools up for take off…