Recently I decided that it was my responsibility as a member of society to start watching “good movies.” I don’t know exactly what that means, except that I was tired of people freaking out when I told them I had never seen this or that flick. A few weeks ago I became a Blockbuster Rewards member. Again, I don’t really know what that means. All I know is that I filled out a form with my name, address, emergency contact information and bank PIN number. In return, they gave me a piece of plastic to put on my keychain.

My first pickups were a contemporary and a classic: Martin Scorsese’s “The Departed” and Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather. Both “mob movies,” and both Academy Award winners for Best Picture. My next selection was another Scorsese classic, “Goodfellas.” At this point, I was decidedly in a mob movie groove, so when I returned to Austin after spring break, I picked up where I left off with “The Godfather: Part II” and Scorsese’s 1995 film starring Robert DeNiro, “Casino.” I really recommend all of these movies. And probably in this order:

1. The Godfather
2. Goodfellas
3. The Godfather: Part II
4. The Departed
5. Casino

I have nothing against Casino (except maybe for Sharon Stone’s obnoxious whining; turns out she was born in Meadville, near Erie. Who knew?), but that film still probably comes in last among the others.

My most recent trip to Blockbuster put another two films in my posession, but before we get to those, let’s talk about their “Rewards” program. Thus far, I have rented seven movies and paid for three of them. You get a free one when you sign up. You get a free one if you rent one on Monday, Tuesday or Wednseday. You get a free one every month. And you get a free one for every five you rent (and pay for) per month. Not a bad deal.

Anyway, I recently picked up “Donnie Brasco” with Al Pacino and Johnny Depp, and have yet to watch it. The other movie I picked up was “Glengarry Glen Ross.” The list of actors in this movie is incredibe: Al Pacino (I’m admittedly in a phase), Jack Lemon, Kevin Spacey, Alec Baldwin, Ed Harris, Alan Arkin and that guy who plays Elizabeth’s father in “Pirates of the Caribbean.” A fantastic cast, needless to say.

What’s even more interesting though is that Alec Baldwin’s role is not in the original play upon which the movie was based. Essentially Baldwin is on screen for 7 minutes, and his job is to rip the real estate salesmen a new one (yes, it’s my first non-mafia-related rental). As he started going after these guys, I had the odd sense that I had seen this before.

And as it turns out, I had. Sort of. Alec Baldwin, one of the most repeated hosts of SNL, did a skit a few years ago based entirely on his role in “Glengarry Glen Ross.” Instead of speaking to salesman, he’s screaming at elves in Santa’s Workshop. I remember thinking it was hilarious at the time, and knowing that it was a direct parody (and I mean word-for-word for a large portion of the skit) makes it even funnier now.

Click here to watch the SNL skit. You won’t regret it.

And if you’ve not seen the original, here’s Baldwin’s speech in “Glengarry Glen Ross.” Watch both clips if you want to see what a good job they did with the parody. Viewer discretion is advised–strong language.

And as a closing remark, I’m taking advice/tips for good movies I should put on my list. Be in touch.

There’s not much I can do to top what the writer of this story has done, so here’s the lead of the story we’ll be discussing in today’s edition of Jeety’s Joint:

SANTO, Texas - A rattlesnake rancher who calls himself Bayou Bob found a new way to make money: Stick a rattler inside a bottle of vodka and market the concoction as an “ancient Asian elixir.” But Bayou Bob Popplewell’s bright idea appears to have landed him on the wrong side of the law, because he has no liquor license.

I’m going to take a brief intermission right now to thank all the principle characters involved in this Broadway-bound tale. First to Bayou Bob– you are an inspiration. You’re innovations both enlighten the mind and dazzle the eye. Second, to the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Comission (TABC)– thank you for cracking down on the true criminals in society. Nevermind the drunk baffoons, stumbling home from 6th Street, who threw a rotten pair at my front porch (and you’re not getting your rock back, either!). No, they’re fine. Let’s crack down on the crackers, instead. And finally, and perhaps only second to Bayou Bob himself, thank you to the Fort Worth Star-Telegram for writing this gem. There’s no by-line attached to this story, and I’d like to think that the whole staff sat around and BS-ed their way through this brilliant story.

Let’s hit the highlights. Bayou Bob is fighting the charges, which could land him in jail for a year in addition to a $1,000 fine. “His intent, he said, is not to sell an alcoholic beverage but a healing tonic,” according to the story. He added, “It’s almost a spiritual thing.” Almost. Except for that part where it says he had 429 bottles of “reptilian booze” stockpiled in his house. Little known fact: one batch of Bayou Bob’s “ancient Asian elixir” makes 430 bottles. In an unrelated story, two 15-year-old kids in Santo, Texas died last week from an unknown poison.

The best part about the 429 bottles of vodka found in Bayou Bob’s house was that there was one bottle of rattlesnake tequila also found. Apparently this was some bizarre experiment gone terrible wrong in the lab. “Rattlesnake TEQUILA?” I imagine Bayou Bob saying. “Are you CRAZY? We’re trying to run a business here!” Indeed.

Going into further details about the elixir (rumor has it that this isn’t copyrighted–act fast!): “Popplewell said he uses the cheapest vodka he can find as a preservative for the snakes. The end result is a super sweet mixed drink that Popplewell compared to cough syrup.” He goes on to say, “I’ve honestly never seen a person drink it.” A fair point. Usually when I go to the liquor store (twice a week– vodka on Tuesdays, rum on Thursdays) I pop the bottles open right there and start guzzling. I call the vendor “Barkeep,” slip him a $2 bill and we both laugh. It’s practically an episode of “Cheers” twice a week.

In some strange attempt to add validity to the argument of a man who calls himself Bayou Bob, the writer interviewed a lecturer at the University of Texas. According to him, “There’s a street nicknamed “Snake Alley” in Taipei, Taiwan, where street vendors put the gall bladder of a freshly killed snake into a glass of strong liquor. The drink, sold to the highest bidder, is supposed to improve eyesight and sexual performance.”

So apparently “Snake Alley” is a double-entendre. Remind me to avoid all dark alleys, just to be safe, if I ever visit Taiwan. But this does bring up an important point, and that is this: you know you’re buying something legitimate and of quality when you’re forking over kuai and mao (their currency) in “Snake Alley.” At least that’s what I read at ConsumerReports.org.

With a win Tuesday night over the New Jersey Devils, the Penguins clinched (I believe–the writing of this story sort of makes it difficult to tell) first place in the Atlantic Division and guarenteed themselves a spot in this year’s NHL playoffs.

Oh, I’m sorry. This is “hockey” we’re talking about. This is the sport that is played on ice, mostly in colder climates, and used to be on TV before the Outdoor and Leisure Network (OLN, now Versus) bought up most of their games. Well, I guess that’s not entirely accurate. ABC/ESPN willinging gave up their contract with the NHL following the most recent player’s strike, calling them “ungrateful twits” in a quote I just made up.

With one of the youngest, and yet experienced teams in the league, this could prove to be a pivotal year for Penguin’s hockey.

The last time the Penguins won Lord Stanley’s cup was the 1991-92 season with the likes of Mario Lemieux, Jaromir Jagr and Ronny Francis at the helm. They swept the Chicago Blackhawks that year, a second straight title win after beating the Minnesota North Stars (that’s you, Dallas–deal) in a six-game series in 1990-91. I was roughly 4-6 years old those years, and sadly only distinctly remember the parade held in downtown Pittsburgh after the team’s second Stanley Cup win. I still have nightmares of then-Mayor Sophie Maslov shouting “Scratch my back with a hacksaw!!!” Don’t ask. I couldn’t tell you.

In the years following, we had some ups and downs, but the city once again turned its attention to the Igloo when young phenom Sidney Crosby, wearing number 87 for the year of his birth (Jiminy Crickets!), arrived in the Steel City. In his first year, Crosby set a rookie-record 63 assists and 102 points (both previously set by Lemieux), and became the youngest player in the NHL to reach 100 points. In the 2006-07 season last year, Crosby became the youngest player to win the Art Ross scoring champion award at age 19. On May 31, 2007, he became the youngest NHL captain in league history. Basically the entire city has a man-crush on Sidney Crosby. I think you get the picture.

In short, things are looking bright again on the hockey horizon in Pittsburgh… If only people were paying attention.

Just when I thought I had heard everything… sweet baby Jesus.

That’s right folks, Jack Kevorkian, aka Dr. Death (a moniker he picked up in the 90s after assisting more than 100 people in suicide,) is running for Congress! Get out “Old Glory” and the bunting, this one’s a true American!

Shockingly, neither party would have him (flashes of Lieberman!), so he’s running as an independent in the Detroit-suburb congressional district. He said in his press conference today that he’s “not a politician, by the way. I’m running as an independent, which means I have no ties to anybody or anything… no fetters. My mind is free. So I can say what I think and use my reason that I’m supposed to… do. Use reason.”

Um. So I guess by “no ties to anybody” he’s referring to all the people he’s killed? I mean, if you kill all your friends, you’re able to say you have no fetters, right? This is something Hillary might want to consider (hide now, Bill). This could be a new trend in American politics.

According to the story, Kevorkian plans to run with the Ninth Amendment as his main platform. Ahh, the ol’ Ninth! A staple for most solid political platforms! It is, of course (ha!), the protection of rights not explicitly written in the Constitution. My favorite line from the story is what follows: “…and Kevorkian says he interprets [the Ninth Amendment] as protecting a person’s choice to die through assisted suicide [big surprise] or to avoid wearing a seat belt [ZING!].”

Who knew? Kevorkian hates safety in all circumstances. Maybe Kevorkian should team up with Ron Paul and the two can form the “Right to be a Jackass” ticket.

Like most good politicians, Kevorkian was released from an 8-year jail term last year. Apparently after killing roughly 130 people, the government decided that the excessive paperwork this caused was reason enough to lock him up for one of those.

Surprisingly, the story continues: “Although he has been nicknamed ‘Dr. Death,’ Kevorkian didn’t say much about assisted suicide when he spoke to reporters Monday morning.” Interesting political choice. I would have bet good money that America was ready for doctors to start going to and from work in vehicles known as “the death-mobile.” (Similar to the “Chester Molestor” van in its lack of windows, but with more death.)

In his announcement speech, which you can find at Yahoo! News, he tossed in some comments about his lifelong patriotism: “I’ve voted once only in my life. And I sense the way things are going in this country, it’s so huge, that my vote means nothing… will never mean anything. And I think odds are that’s true of everybody. So I never voted.”

Just for clarification, I did not cut this quote off in any way. That was the end of that thought. In summation, it was “I never voted because what does my vote matter?” I was hoping he would at least conclude with a “…but you should really vote for me.” Or, “…because I was too busy killing people to get to the polls.” Sadly he ended with neither. But his active civic life did leave me with a strong sense to vote for him, obviously. Who wouldn’t?

Let’s break down his core issues, as demonstarted in his announcement speech: mysterious rights granted in the Ninth Amendment, no seatbelts for all, a convicted murderer in the House (although, he should fit in nicely in the House–few aren’t), little to no voting (I’m assuming this will carry over from his private life?) and a representative constantly holding a sickle and dressed in black. Oh, he’s also 79 (and healthy as an ox, I’m sure. Look at that frame!)

Kevorkian 2008: Because it’s not enough to be batshit crazy in the privacy of your own home, anymore.

Alright, I’m going to lay all the cards on the table. Yeah, it was me. I snooped through the passports of Obama, Clinton and McCain. Big deal. I had their best interest at heart.

It all started this Christmas when I decided I wanted to do something nice for my friends. Those three candidates have supplied me with so much entertainment in the last few months that it would be rude to ignore them. I thought, “What would be nicer than taking them on a vacation this summer?” The way I saw it, I wasn’t sure who was going to win the nomination, so I might as well snoop into all of their files. So that’s what I did. (Recognize that knuckle?)

As the story says,

Officials said they believe the workers were motivated by nothing more than “imprudent curiosity,” but they have not ruled out more serious motives, and have asked the department’s inspector general to investigate the issue

That’s right. It was nothing more than “imprudent curiousity.” And between you and me, only two of the three are organ donors! I’ll let your minds wander.

Other fun facts: McCain apparently likes to vacation in the Bahamas. Clinton has been to 80% of all European nations. And Obama has a Disney passport, stamped at all the destinations in Epcot.

So I guess an apology is in order: Sorry I looked at your stuff. I just thought it would be nice to spend some time together before the general election this November. But it’s okay. I’m over it. I’m almost finished reading “They’re Just Not That Into You: National Leaders Edition.”

In case you thought I was “above” a toilet post (and let’s be honest, who’s thinking that?), you were wrong.

Okay, quick poll: how many of you are sitting down while reading this? Okay, and how many are squatting? From early exit polls, the results are roughly 100% to zero. I’ll get back to you when Wolf Blitzer makes the official announcement with the CNN graphic and everything.

Toilets have been added to the list of problems people seem to have with the summer Olympics in China this year. And who can blame the complainers? When nature calls, its priority is Number 2 to no one. Selling weapons to Sudan; human rights violations; infanticide of baby girls? These are details. Let’s get the toilets fixed first, or else it’s a U.S. boycott! We boycotted the Russian Olympics in the ’70s over communism. Do you seriously think we won’t because of bathrooms? This is America. We have our priorities.

The great debate is “Sitting v. Squatting.” I have no doubt this will go down with the Lincoln-Douglas debates of 1858 as a life-changing issue. Western toilets, as I’m sure most of you know, are “sit-down style.” We have a seat that, when removed from the toilet itself, doubles as a horseshoe for outdoor gaming. This design also allows for extensive newspaper reading. Heading to the john in Western culture has become a time-consuming, leisure activity. I wouldn’t have it any other way, myself.

But not so in China! I don’t know how many other countries use squatting toilets because I’m an ignorant American, but that’s besides the point. As you can see from this lovely comparative image, the squatting toilet on the left is right at ground level. The throne you and I love is on the right, in all its majesty, towering over the squatting toilet. My question is, are those foot grips on the sides of the squatter? Because I have no desire to risk my life squatting on porcelain.

Also, will someone please think of the elderly? How are they supposed to get down there? Or better yet, get back up? They say we neglect our elders in America… at least we give them a seat. Sometimes we give them one in the shower, too!

Anyway, the Beijing Olympics, held August 8-24, are expecting roughly 500,000 overseas visitors. I think I’ll sit this one out.

Sorry if it feels like I’m a little behind. Yesterday’s post was from news that happened last week, and today’s is from this weekend. What can I say, between the daylight savings switch and Delta drugging me on my flight from Cincinnati to Austin (I don’t care what the flight attendant said about Saint Patrick’s Day, ginger ale is not supposed to be green), I’m a little off my game.

We have arrived at the madness that is March. The weather is bi-polar (and those poles are more than likely also melting), Ft. Lauderdale is using firehoses to wash out hotel rooms and Dick Vitale physically cannot stop moving his mouth.

This year is especially entertaining for me, though. Bob Knight, after his abrupt departure from Texas Tech earlier this year, agreed to do commentary for ESPN during the conference championships and March Madness. And while you might think it’s the Tech players who benefit most, what with folding chair beatdowns finally coming to an end, you would be incorrect. It is you and I, friend, who win.

For starters, America has never seen Bob Knight in any color other than red. Ever. His birth certificate actually makes a point to say he was born wearing a finely-knit red sweater. It does not specify the brand. He’s also worn black and white, but those aren’t colors. I don’t know whose idea it was to put Bob in bright green sweaters, but it’s fantastic. I think he wore an orange one the other day, too. I predict that we will next see him helping old ladies cross the street.

For the last few years, ESPN has had pretty much the same group of guys at the desk during Championship week and March Madness. There’s Rece Davis, Digger Phelps, and some really obnoxious people whose names I have not taken the time to learn (aside from Dicky V.).

Adding Bobby Knight to that mix has increased the awkwardness by about 500%. If you think I’m joking, watch this:

Unfortunately the clip got cut off at the end, but I would imagine after Bob was done staring at Dicky V., he called him some horrifying expletive and they moved on with the show. That’s pretty much been the way the show has gone all week.

Later, Bob Knight picked Pitt to win it all. His final four was North Carolina beating Kansas and Pitt beating Georgetown. Technically he said he didn’t want to pick who would win between the Panthers and Tar Heels, but he ultimately did go with Pittsburgh. I’m going to bite my tongue and say nothing (a Jeety’s Joint first!).

Happy March Madness everybody. Don’t forget to fill out your bracket at John McCain’s bracket page. And yes, even I’m willing to admit that that’s a little weird. Or awesome. One of the two. (By the way, please click on that link on Rece Davis’ name. It’s my favorite joke of this whole post.)

Umm… holy crap.

Last night, as I was checking my blog, making sure no one burned it down, I saw my friend Izzy’s comment on my most recent post. It read something like, “So what do you think of Sheryl Crow joining Fleetwood Mac?” I laughed, thinking he had found one of my many treatises on the topic, circa 2001 (that’s… kind of not a joke).

But lo and behold, he was being serious! Sheryl Crow is, in some capacity, going to be a part of Fleetwood Mac in the future. Spinner.com reported on this on March 13. Click here for the story. I’m a little ashamed, as a die-hard fan, that I hadn’t caught wind of this sooner. In my defense, however, it was spring break (woooo!) and the band has been relatively dormant for the last four or so years.

So let me try and explain this to those of you who are completely baffled by such a bizarre combination.

It all began in 1998 or so, when Sheryl Crow was recording her “Storytellers” for VH-1 (sigh, the golden age of VH-1). She asked Stevie Nicks, her childhood idol, to join her for a song for the show. The two sang “Strong Enough” for some feminist reason that Stevie elaborates on before the song begins. It’s actually a great version of the song, and if anyone wants it, let me know.

Anyway, Fleetwood Mac had just reunited for the first time in 10 years with its most famous line-up (that being the rhythm section Mick Fleetwood and John McVie [the band's namesakes], keyboardist Christine McVie (John’s ex-wife), and the California duo Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham [tamborine/twirling and guitars, resepectively]). By 1998, Stevie was touring solo with her new box set “Enchanted,” and late in the year, she recorded her own “Storytellers” show for VH-1. All fantastic; go buy it.

When the tour ended, Stevie decided it was time to go back into the studio and record her first solo cd since 1994’s “Street Angel.” The result was what many consider to be Stevie’s best solo offering since her 1981 debut “Bella Donna.” The cd was called “Trouble in Shangri-La,” and over half of the songs were produced by, you guessed it, Sheryl Crow [see left for most ridiculous image ever].

Crow also added background vocals to many of the tracks, as well as guitar, and she even wrote one of the songs (which she later re-recorded for her next cd, the near-career-killer “C’mon C’mon.” You remember… “Soak Up the Sun”? Need I say more?). When the time came to take this new cd on the road, Crow opened for Stevie for the majority of the tour, including the tours opening date in Pittsburgh, and the show I saw in Cincinnati (second concert ever, with my parents and Aunt Jeannie).

Around this time there was a lot of talk about what was going to happen to Fleetwood Mac. It was widely acknowledged that Christine McVie no longer wanted to tour with the band. The 1997 reunion cd “The Dance” was the end of the road for her. So does the band try to replace her? Move on as a 4-person show? As you might have guessed, some people (myself included) said, “Hey, what if another ‘major act’ like Sheryl Crow joined Fleetwood Mac?’” You might think I’m making this up, but I’m definitely not.

Years passed and Fleetwood Mac released “Say You Will” in 2003 and toured both that year and the following. They decided against trying to replace McVie, and the result was a “Buckingham Nicks” show with Fleetwood Mac on rhythm. It was a little awkward, but I didn’t care. They performed songs from the past that they had either stopped playing decades earlier, or never played at all. It was amazing. I touched Lindsey’s guitar in Cleveland, but that’s a story for another time.

Since then, the band has done next to nothing. Lindsey has released a solo cd “Under the Skin” and toured to support it. There are rumors that he has another cd that’s supposed to be released this year, but since it took him 14 years in between solo releases last time, I’m not holding my breath.

There are several reasons this Sheryl Crow business is considered “necessary” for Fleetwood Mac’s existence. The first is that Stevie has repeatedly said that she won’t go on tour without Christine McVie. She did it in 2003, but has said she didn’t enjoy the “boys club” atmosphere on the road. Whatever that means. Now, it will be interesting to see who exactly brought Sheryl Crow into the mix. If it was Stevie, then that means she wants to tour again with the band. But if it was anyone else, they’re using it as pressure to get her to sign on to another tour, at least.

At this time, no one from Fleetwood Mac has acknowledged this statement from Crow, so maybe she’s gone officially crazy. If you want to hear what a Nicks/Crow song sounds like, click here for “If You Ever Did Believe” from the Practical Magic soundtrack. Crow sings back-up here on one of Stevie’s songs.

Either way, it’s another extremely bizarre twist for a band that is in the business of all things “weird.”

This was too funny to not pass along. As you might notice, I’m taking this week off. But! Lucky for you, I found this gem and thought you might be interested. Take this into account, Pennsylvanians, before heading to the polls in April. You’re not just voting for yourself.

Is Rover a Republican?
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
Political Dog Biscuit bags come in two different colors, with donkeys or elephants for your pet. Nobody’s being left out of the political hoopla this primary season, and that includes your four-legged friends.

Petlane, the pet party service, has introduced doggie treats in the shape of elephants and donkeys.

But how do you know which treats your dogs favor?

According to Petlane, here are eight signs to tell you which side of the fence your furry companion sits on:

Republican pets

• They bark at passing neighbors and traffic; home security is very important to them.

• Their ears perk up when Fox News comes on.

• They are a big spender at the local pet store.

• Strongly believe pet matrimony should occur only between two cats or two dogs.

• Believe in the second-amendment right to bare teeth and claws.

• Are for electric border fences around the yard.

• Want national ID tags for all pets.

• They advocate for the pet-tracking chip — you can never have too much surveillance.

Democratic pets

• They want universal veterinary care for all.

• They want their treats for free.

• They socialize with all breeds at the dog park.

• They prefer their owner uses biodegradable poop bags.

• Are very concerned with the rising cost of pet food.

• Have the young puppy and kitten vote locked.

• Want to end the war of dogs vs. cats once and for all.

• Think of Ralph Nader as the dog catcher.

The low-fat peanut butter and honey biscuits come in 6-ounce bags of either the donkey or the elephant, each for $8.99. You can order them at www.petlane.com or call 1-888-870-8324.

Click here for the Post-Gazette article. And click here to take the Pet Party Poll.

Live from Atlanta, it’s Jeety’s Joint! [Editor's note: this post was written in the Atlanta airport and then posted upon arrival in Pittsburgh, as the writer had no interest in paying $7.95 for Internet access.]

Well, I’m stranded here in the Hartsfield-Jackson Airport. The way my day was supposed to go is as follows: Austin to Atlanta departing at 7:10 a.m., then Atlanta to Pittsburgh arriving at 12:40 p.m. We sat for 50 minutes on the runway in Austin because Atlanta couldn’t handle me (“I don’t think you’re ready for this Jeety,” as Beyonce would say.) Luckily they pushed my flight from Atlanta back to adjust for the delay, but my flight left the gate before I could get there because the ground crew in Atlanta was debating “Who’s the bigger Georgia racist: John Rocker or Ty Cobb?”

All this is to say that I was inspired to write an entry explaining my travel process. I’m doing this as a service to those of you who don’t travel that often, and those of you who are sheep. Let us begin.

We begin with ticketing. When you book your flight, you absolutely must come to grips with this one essential fact: the moment you book your flight, the airline, and it doesn’t matter which one, will begin to try to do everything in its power to screw you. It’s just a game they play. You try to plan a trip, and they try to crush your hopes and dreams.

For instance, I booked this flight for today with a 35-minute layover in Atlanta. That’s not a lot of time, but I also knew that Austin has very few delays because they’re such a small airport, and Atlanta has a lot of delays because it’s Beelzebub’s preferred hub. I had it all figured out! Plus, Dallas, which is my typical connection city, got something ridiculous like nine inches of snow yesterday. I thought that maybe things were breaking my way. But alas, I underestimated their power and vindictiveness. So here I am.

Now you might be asking yourself, “Okay El Jeet, so if I’m going to be stuck in these airports for hours or days at a time, how should I look? What should I do? Which Delta representative should I threaten to stab?” All good questions.

First of all, don’t shower before your flight. There’s this strange generational divide in our culture—our elders tend to believe you need to look “presentable” and “not homeless” when you travel in an aircraft. I disagree “with the conviction of seven Arabian princesses,” as Michael Cera would say. I don’t shower and I wear a hat, hoodie and jeans (the baggier the better). The only thing missing from the Uni-bomber look is a sweet pair of Aviators. This gets you two things: frisked at security and space on the airplane. No one wants to sit next to the crazy.

I also recommend sleeping. A lot. Anywhere you can. I prefer to start dozing on the plane as we’re sitting at the gate—why wait for the big, flashy take-off? This way, when you wake up, you can play the game “Am I 5,000 feet in the air, or still at the gate?” In my experience it’s like 5-to-1 odds that you’re still at the gate. Also, sleep with your mouth open. I can’t help it, really, because of gravity. If I’m sitting upright, I’m catchin’ flies. I can’t prove this (because I’m sleeping), but I have a pretty good feeling that this disgusts people more than regular sleeping, and I know for a fact that it looks much weirder. That’s your goal.

So basically, that’s all you need to know to fly. Oh, also… if you check a bag, don’t expect to ever see it again. The airline employees have to buy Christmas (sorry, “holiday”) presents for their kids, too. Quit being selfish. You’re the one who handed your bag to a complete stranger.

I hope these tips will be a help to you in your future travels. After almost three years of flying back and forth from Texas to Pennsylvania, I have a pretty good sense of how things work. If you follow these tips, you should be less devastated when you’re 9 a.m. flight to Salt Lake City turns into a 10 p.m. flight to Reno (they have great rent-a-car services; you can deal).