Sure is quiet around here this week. Too quiet . . .
I have been out and about and in court and such for that past few days, and consequently inposticado. One portion of the week was taken up by a trip to northern California [lovely Santa Rosa in lovelier Sonoma County, source of loveliest California wines including but not limited to frabjous pinot noirs -- none of which I had time to sample, more's the pity -- and also home to OGIC's favorite round-headed kid, but I digress . . .], via Southwest Airlines, flying from Burbank to Oakland. In the course of trying, unsuccessfully, to check in to my northbound flight, first online and then through the kiosk at the airport, I made the troubling discovery that I -- yes, kind, gentle, unassuming and harmless I -- am now on one of the Transportation Safety Administration's Watch Lists. *Sigh* I blame Volkswagen.
The return flight from Oakland was delayed, but came with the bonus of a celebrity sighting: former L.A. Law faux lawyer -- since reduced to not one but two appearances as a contestant on Celebrity Mole -- Corbin Bernsen. He had no entourage, apart from his cell phone, but had sufficient clout with the airline to be the first person on to and off of the plane. Celebrity has its privileges.
So there you are: national security and gossip, in one neat package. Full service, that's what you'll get here readers, full service.