Read Online Fierce Pajamas: An Anthology of Humor Writing from The New Yorker by Henry Finder, David Remnick - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Henry Finder, David Remnick
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Friskem metal detector the boarding pass the in-flight magazine all returned to tiny bits of grit blowing across the steppe for ever
(Pause)
Cruising along nicely now.
(Pause)
Yes cruising along very nicely indeed if I do say so myself.
(Long pause)
Twenty-two thousand feet.
(Pause)
Extinguish the light extinguish the light I have extinguished the No Smoking light so you are free to move about the cabin have a good cry hang yourselves get an erection who knows however we do ask that while you’re in your seats you keep your belts lightly fastened in case we encounter any choppy air or the end we’ve prayed for past time remembering our flying time from New York to Chicago is two hours and fifteen minutes the time of the dark journey of our existence is not revealed, you cry no you
pray
for a flight attendant you pray for a flight attendant a flight attendant comes now cry with reading material if you care to purchase a cocktail
(Pause)
A cocktail?
(Pause)
If you care to purchase a piece of carrot, a stinking turnip, a bit of grit our flight attendants will be along to see that you know how to move out of this airplane fast and use seat lower back cushion for flotation those of you on the right side of the aircraft ought to be able to see New York’s Finger Lakes region that’s Lake Canandaigua closest to us those of you on the left side of the aircraft will only see the vastness of eternal emptiness without end
(Pause)
(Long pause)
(Very long pause)
(Long pause of about an hour)
We’re beginning our descent we’re finished nearly finished soon we will be finished we’re beginning our descent our long descent ahh descending beautifully to Chicago’s Ohare Airport ORD ORD ORD ORD seat backs and tray tables in their full upright position for landing for ending flight attendants prepare for ending it is ending the flight is ending please check the seat pocket in front of you to see if you have all your belongings with you remain seated and motionless until the ending until the finish until the aircraft has come to a complete stop at the gate until the end
(Pause)
When we deplane I’ll weep for happiness.
1980
VERONICA GENG
LOVE TROUBLE IS MY BUSINESS
Francis X. Clines, in the Sunday Times . . . : “President Reagan resembled a bashful cowboy the other day when he was asked about the apparent collapse of the ‘Star Wars’ talks with the Soviet Union. . . . At his side, murmuring something through the fixed smile that seems required of American political spouses, Mrs. Reagan was overheard prompting him: ‘We’re doing everything we can.’ . . . Out there in . . . the President’s mountainside retreat, subjects such as the Soviet Union seem to haunt Mr. Reagan the way vows to read Proust dog other Americans at leisure.”
This may be the only time in history in which the words “Mr. Reagan” and “read Proust” will appear in the same sentence.
—Geoffrey Stokes in the Village Voice.
I GLANCED over at the dame sleeping next to me, and all of a sudden I wanted some other dame, the way you see Mr. Reagan on TV and all of a sudden get a yen to read Proust. Not that she wasn’t attractive, with rumpled blond curls and a complexion so transparent you could read Proust through it—that is, as long as her cute habit of claiming a tax deduction for salon facials didn’t turn up in a memo to Mr. Reagan from some I.R.S. stool pigeon. It was taking her a little more time to wake up than it would take Mr. Reagan’s horse to read Proust. After I’d showered and shaved and put on an old pair of pants that wouldn’t lead anybody to believe my tailor was unduly influenced by having read Proust, I went back over to the bed, where I wasn’t exactly planning to say my prayers—Mr. Reagan or no Mr. Reagan.
“Mr. . . . Reagan . . . ?” she whispered, fluttering her lashes, and I trusted the dazed quizzical act about as much as if she’d told me she could read Proust without moving her lips.
I
(Pause)
Cruising along nicely now.
(Pause)
Yes cruising along very nicely indeed if I do say so myself.
(Long pause)
Twenty-two thousand feet.
(Pause)
Extinguish the light extinguish the light I have extinguished the No Smoking light so you are free to move about the cabin have a good cry hang yourselves get an erection who knows however we do ask that while you’re in your seats you keep your belts lightly fastened in case we encounter any choppy air or the end we’ve prayed for past time remembering our flying time from New York to Chicago is two hours and fifteen minutes the time of the dark journey of our existence is not revealed, you cry no you
pray
for a flight attendant you pray for a flight attendant a flight attendant comes now cry with reading material if you care to purchase a cocktail
(Pause)
A cocktail?
(Pause)
If you care to purchase a piece of carrot, a stinking turnip, a bit of grit our flight attendants will be along to see that you know how to move out of this airplane fast and use seat lower back cushion for flotation those of you on the right side of the aircraft ought to be able to see New York’s Finger Lakes region that’s Lake Canandaigua closest to us those of you on the left side of the aircraft will only see the vastness of eternal emptiness without end
(Pause)
(Long pause)
(Very long pause)
(Long pause of about an hour)
We’re beginning our descent we’re finished nearly finished soon we will be finished we’re beginning our descent our long descent ahh descending beautifully to Chicago’s Ohare Airport ORD ORD ORD ORD seat backs and tray tables in their full upright position for landing for ending flight attendants prepare for ending it is ending the flight is ending please check the seat pocket in front of you to see if you have all your belongings with you remain seated and motionless until the ending until the finish until the aircraft has come to a complete stop at the gate until the end
(Pause)
When we deplane I’ll weep for happiness.
1980
VERONICA GENG
LOVE TROUBLE IS MY BUSINESS
Francis X. Clines, in the Sunday Times . . . : “President Reagan resembled a bashful cowboy the other day when he was asked about the apparent collapse of the ‘Star Wars’ talks with the Soviet Union. . . . At his side, murmuring something through the fixed smile that seems required of American political spouses, Mrs. Reagan was overheard prompting him: ‘We’re doing everything we can.’ . . . Out there in . . . the President’s mountainside retreat, subjects such as the Soviet Union seem to haunt Mr. Reagan the way vows to read Proust dog other Americans at leisure.”
This may be the only time in history in which the words “Mr. Reagan” and “read Proust” will appear in the same sentence.
—Geoffrey Stokes in the Village Voice.
I GLANCED over at the dame sleeping next to me, and all of a sudden I wanted some other dame, the way you see Mr. Reagan on TV and all of a sudden get a yen to read Proust. Not that she wasn’t attractive, with rumpled blond curls and a complexion so transparent you could read Proust through it—that is, as long as her cute habit of claiming a tax deduction for salon facials didn’t turn up in a memo to Mr. Reagan from some I.R.S. stool pigeon. It was taking her a little more time to wake up than it would take Mr. Reagan’s horse to read Proust. After I’d showered and shaved and put on an old pair of pants that wouldn’t lead anybody to believe my tailor was unduly influenced by having read Proust, I went back over to the bed, where I wasn’t exactly planning to say my prayers—Mr. Reagan or no Mr. Reagan.
“Mr. . . . Reagan . . . ?” she whispered, fluttering her lashes, and I trusted the dazed quizzical act about as much as if she’d told me she could read Proust without moving her lips.
I
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