The Plane to L.A.

You never know who you're going to end up sitting next to on an airplane. Countless stories have been told about the mis-matching of seatmates: someone who wants to be left alone to work, read or sleep finds that the adjacent seat is occupied by a person who wants to make a new best friend. It's frustrating and annoying and you can't do a thing about it.

Last week I was on a flight to LAX; due to a mix-up I ended up being one of the last eight people to board the plane. I knew I was going to be relegated to a middle seat.

As I reached the third row, an attractive blonde woman with1980s eyeliner and artificially inflated lips grabbed my arm and said furtively, "Do you want to sit here? No babies, no fat people-- it’s a great row!" I was a bit taken aback, and half-expected her to open her overcoat and offer to sell me a Rolex for ten bucks.

But I like to sit in the front of the plane, so I said, "Sure," and scooted in. She even offered to shove my coat into the overhead bin for me.

As we both settled into our seats, she said how glad she was to have a ‘normal’ person in the middle. Clearly, mistaking me for ‘normal’ was a key mistake on her part, but that’s not important right now.

Half an hour into our flight, Ms. Aisle Seat leaned over me and addressed Ms. Window Seat excitedly: "So what do you do-- I heard you talking about casting?” (Apparently she’d been on a phone call before I boarded.)

The startled woman in the window seat gave a simple, dignified answer. "I'm a manager, and I scout talent," she said.

Ms. Aisle Seat gushed, "I starred in _________ and _________. I'm Cindy Lou Picketfence! I used to do a lot of informercials! I sold more product than anyone else on tv in the ‘90s! I also developed a line of food supplements!"

The promo went on quite a bit longer than that, and of course that's not verbatim, but her name's not Cindy Lou Picketfence, either. These shows were like the “Friends” and “Law and Order” of the 1980s. She was not the star of these programs, but she had long-running roles, and that's certainly impressive. So while you probably wouldn’t recognize her name, you certainly know the shows.

Cindy Lou kept telling us (by this time, my book was put away) tales of her costars, and what they’re doing now. Okay, this was pretty entertaining, especially when she trashed her husband's celebrity ex-wife, but I did feel a bit like the old maid aunt chaperoning the cheerleaders’ party. I was captive, yet strangely unable to participate.

A couple of times I offered to switch seats with the actress, just to get out of their way. But she was committed to staying on the aisle because she had two tiny dogs in their carrier in front of her feet.

Amidst a lot of "Do you know so-and-so?“ and “Remember Whosits?“ these two found out that they actually grew up in the same town. I'm here to tell you, folks, that although people bemoan St. Louisans asking, "where'd you go to high school?", that is not a query limited to our burg. These women were from southern California, and they simultaneously blurted that one out! I laughed out loud, and I guess they'll never know why. They learned that they went to the same school, about ten years apart, and knew a lot of the same people.


Ye Olde High School

Small world. Smaller plane. And a teeny weenie middle seat.

Bum Rap for Grandma

So my last post was about the twelve Opinion Shapers named for the coming year meeting at our community newspaper’s offices. One of the contributors, a lovely woman I recognize from years past, sat down next to me. We hadn’t really spoken previously—these meetings somehow haven’t exactly lent themselves to that. This year, our new editor established an entirely different tone, and most of us were more chatty.


Anyway, in our round-robin of “who-I-am-and-what-I-do”, I learned that this woman is a retired physician—a pediatric cardiologist, in fact. Now she tutors in Latin and French, and writes these columns… Did I mention that she managed to raise seven children? I want to be her when I grow up. Oh wait—I forgot to become a doctor. Or to have more children. Well, I shall just have to bask in her glow, and settle for who I am.

Back to my point, and I DO have a point.

Dr. Wonderful (her newly-minted alias) mentioned that she can always tell which children are being raised by their grandmothers. Without hesitation, I said, “Because they have good manners?” She turned to me, smiling, bemused, and said, “Precisely. Because they have good manners.”

So score some points for the grandmothers, and their willingness to model and teach good manners. Of course, most moms and dads do this, too, but I’m claiming a bit of credit for the grandmothers to offset the bum rap we (as a class) got in the news this week.

In case you missed it, an article by Jeannine Stein of the Los Angeles Times a few days ago was headlined

“Do grandparents make kids fat?”

Stein cites a study in the International Journal of Obesity (I swear, I am not making this up) that found that kids cared for by grandparents full-time had a 34% increase in “risk of being overweight.” The part-timers showed a 15% increase. (So were they actually overweight, because I don’t really get what the ‘risk of’ means, otherwise.)

So maybe grandparents are handing out too many cookies and snacks, or maybe they are reading more with the kids, and doing puzzles and homework and other sedentary activities with them. Speaking for myself, I love to take the little ones to the park, but I’m not out there playing tag, throwing the ball, and generally chasing them around the yard like their moms and dads do. Which side of the equation is causing this, assuming it’s true?

I’m a believer in healthy eating, but all things in moderation. So, Jeannine Stein of the L.A. Times, if the kids raised by their grandmothers turn out to be at high risk for obesity (whatever that means) at least they will say, “Will you please pass the cupcakes?” rather than, “Yo, send them cupcakes over here!”