We’re four hours into the flight to Vancouver, and Tim Burton’s Batman is better than I remember it. The first movie shown was Kicking and Screaming, but now Air Canada has gotten all retro on us. Jason and I enjoyed a lovely airline pancake breakfast and now he’s reading The Perfect Storm while I struggle to keep from going truly batty in my cramped little aisle.
As we were waiting to board the plane at 7am, we ran into Jeff B. who’s also going to the wedding and is sitting two rows behind us as I type. When we land, we’re going to sync up somewhere in Vancouver proper and I imagine they’ll end up in one of the city’s new Amsterdammy cafes while I skulk around for a suit. Then – it’s on to Whistler. We have to be at the hotel for a champagne reception by 8.
I think that somewhere in the middle of this very hectic, very short and phenomenally expensive (tack the new suit onto the already hefty tab) weekend – a really great time might emerge. So I press on in hope.
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