People who know me well know how much I hate flying; that I want to go back to the U.K. at some point, but I've no intention of flying there, and that I'm more likely to create a madcap scheme that involves driving up through Canada, on to the polar ice cap (until the Bush administration completes its melting of it), over to Russia, through various European states, until finally taking the chunnel from France into England... doing all of that –which would take weeks, if not more– than I would spend seven hours on an airplane crossing the Atlantic.
Here's why: A Boeing 737, trying to land in the fucking snow, skidded off the runway at Midway airport, and then tried to merge with traffic at 55th and Central. I understand the plane was trying to get on to the Stevenson and take Lake Shore Drive up to the Gold Coast to drop off some of the first-class passengers. That last part is a joke, of course, because it was a Southwest Airlines plane, and had no first-class.
Yes, I'm mocking a plane-crash. I'm going to hell for so many other reasons, why not tack another one on the board.