I am writing this from the worst seat on United Airlines flight 2160 from Denver to Dallas. The flight attendants just passed me with trolleys of drinks and snacks that likely taste of cardboard but I long for them anyway because I am hungry. They prepared them in the very back of the plane, by my seat next to the lavatory. I dared to dream they might start on my row when I heard them rustling around, but of course they rolled to the front of the plane which means I will be last. But that's OK. The last will be first, at least, to the lavatory.

I am tired. I waited with my two youngest daughters and Ryder, Adelaide's boyfriend, for two hours in the delightful Kona airport, which consists of a few huts and chairs in the outside air. Balmy perfection. Then we boarded our big flight--a Boeing 777--by walking out to it when they called us and climbing a million stairs. It reminded me of the president and first lady who always board and deboard Air Force One like this. Except they are elegant and waving instead of lugging their stuffed carry-on bags like pack mules. I don't think I have ever been that up close and personal with a 777 engine. It is about the same size as a tire on the biggest tractor on the FFF Ranch. I could stand inside it and still have room to spare. Which I would never do for fear of being chopped to bits.

Our seats on that flight were not as bad as this one but less comfortable. We filled a middle row that seemed designed for little people. After the plane was in the air, I took a stroll to see if I could scout any empty rows where I might stretch out--a budget traveler's sleep hack. I found no unoccupied rows, but there was one row with two empty seats beside a nice female Texan I previously had met at the airport near the phone........

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