The thing about knobs...

I think I'm the youngest person in this hotel, or at least under 50, outside of staff. I heard that it's the high season for "snow birds". I know what you're thinking, skiers, right? That's what I thought too, but snow birds in Phoenix aren't skiers but people escaping the snow, fleeing those Midwestern and northern paradises of fluffy white snow. The weather today, mid 70s, not a cloud in the sky, gorgeous, just perfect. I left my jacket at the hotel, I don't think I'm going to wear it all week to be quite honest, it should hit 80 by wednesday. Last night at 9 I took a dip in the heated pool and sat in the jacuzzi for a bit, it's no banya, but pleasant nonetheless.

So let me tell you about knobs, I boarded my flight at SFO, bound for Phoenix, the plane was slow to fill and the pilots were late arriving to the cockpit. Maybe they were busy finishing their drink at the bar, I know I hate leaving a good glass of hooch unfinished at the bar. We finally pulled away from the gate with a sober sounding pilot who said that we'd make up the time in flight, now I knew he wasn't sober, we have Evil Kanevil at the wheel, right on! Our plane lines up behind a few others when the captain comes on the intercom and says "folks, we're going to have to go back the gate. seems like the start knob on the plane is broken, the switch works, but the knob fell off and the mechanics want to fix it before we take off." Ok, let's think about this, the switch works but the knob is broken, is that like mixed metaphors? And the start switch? The fix took an additional 20 to 30 minutes delaying my arrival in Phoenix by over an hour. Because, you know, that's the thing with knobs... they make you late.