The Langoliers?
4/17 '17
At the Philly Airport. It is creepily empty. I keep waiting for Bronson Pinchot to show up with a blind chick.
Debating telling the flight attendants that it's my birthday.
Cons: They may sing Happy Birthday, which I really don't like.
Pros: They might make me a crown made of toilet paper rolls and stirrers.
We shall see.
Off to Austin!
MORE
“That was what I wanted to ask you,” said Pooh. “Because my spelling is Wobbly. It’s good spelling but it Wobbles, and the letters get in the wrong places. Would you write ‘A Happy Birthday’ on it for me?”
…Owl licked the end of his pencil, and wondered how to spell “birthday.”
“Can you read, Pooh?” he asked, a little anxiously. “There’s a notice about knocking and ringing outside my door, which Christopher Robin wrote. Could you read it?”
“Christopher Robin told me what it said, and then I could.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what this says, and then you’ll be able to.”
So Owl wrote…and this is what he wrote:
HIPY PAPY BTHUTHDTH THUTHDA
BTHUTHDY.
Pooh looked on admiringly.
“I’m just saying ‘A Happy Birthday,'” said Owl carelessly.
“It’s a nice long one,” said Pooh, very much impressed by it.
“Well, actually, of course, I’m saying ‘A Very Happy Birthday with love from Pooh.’ Naturally it takes a good deal of pencil to say a long thing like that.”
“Oh, I see,” said Pooh.
I am also at the Philly airport, waiting for my shuttle to take me to my car.
My visit to my godson and his wonderful family was very rewarding. I miss his little face already, and I miss my Rabbit and Brandes and Miles, and all of their parents too. It was a great visit. I got to hang out with live chickens and live bees. I got closer to the chickens.