Greetings und guten tag mein dear Fad reader, you will be most pleased to learn that I am writing this entry from 30,000 feet on a trans-Atlantic Virgin flight on my way to Basel Miami.
I am in economy, unlike Jay Joplin (who naturally turns left upon entering a plane and is currently up there in first class enjoying all the creature comforts befitting a man of his stature). I will admit though, I was charmed by a Virgin ground staff into purchasing for an extra £50.00 a seat by the emergency exit and have very satisfactory full leg stretching capacity.
It might be said that this is an unnecessary extravagance for one such as your humble Klaus, who has only modest means, but glancing over at the poor fellow stuck in the middle of the row to my left, his knees awkwardly bent in, legs pressed up against the seat, I am indeed very grateful for my comparative expanse of open space in front of me. His pained facial expression of engrossed concentration in the movie film seems tinged with faint hope. Perhaps the unfolding fiction on the tiny screen might somehow liberate his legs from the confines of his standard economy seat? I am not one to relish schaudenfreude, but I fear that the film will not offer him any such respite and thus he remains a captive audience for the rest of the flight.
I am not really interested in engaging with a movie picture, I did try just prior to lunch (which had something to do with stewed beef and was too terrible for words), but unfortunately the socket receptor for my headphone plug has a faulty connection. I was initially irritated by this technical malfunction, although I consoled myself with a long leg extension and some soothing Mozart on my ipod (what a wünderbar invention!)
The majority of passengers I can only assume on this flight, must be art related, indeed I bumped into the affable Andrew Mummery at the security check. I asked him if he was showing and indeed he is at ‘Pulse’ and that he would never dream of going to Miami if it wasn’t for the fair. Well, I thought, that is an understandable thing for a dealer to say, I mean there you are in the midst of kitsch Art Deco South Beach only, for the most part, to be contained in your square booth. There is a caged like quality to the rows and rows of booths, with dealers grinning like baboons, desperately trying to hide the fact that there are currently not enough bananas to go round.
Well, like our unfortunate friend in 32F, they must bear up, try to enjoy the distractions and pray for freedom. Sometime soon it will be like the good old days again, until then best to keep smiling through.
Klaus von Kunst.
