Here I am in Los Angeles - opposite Disneyland - on my own.
Kezza and the kids were supposed to be here yesterday but they got a few hours out of Sydney and some inconsiderate bastard died - so the plane returned. It was not the pilot. So they had to go back and did not fly out until the following afternoon - and should arrive in the next few hours.
Now if I was going to die I would do it before security because what is the point of taking off your shoes and belt and go thru that mess if you are just going to get on the plane and pop your clogs. Of course he might have been OK until he took the foil off the top of his 'meal' and then he saw it and his body just threw in the towel.
I had a spare day built in because I thought someone might die on their plane so our Disneyland tickets are still good.
I am cooling my heels in the Howard Johnson at Anaheim and watching Gunsmoke. There was a message on my phone from the manager wishing me a pleasant stay and asking me to report any problems. I am thinking about telling him that over a period of an hour successive sets of door keys did not work and eventually I had to be let into my room by the reception staff. But I am waiting to see what else happens.
The smallest Latte you can get over the road at Mimi's Cafe is a gallon and the cup has to be lifted with both hands. But it does occupy an enormous amount of time - the drinking of the coffee and the bathroom.
Soon the adventure begins.