The Painters

I’m living in a Seinfeld episode.

About a year ago, after the roof at my condo-based office was repaired by the Association-designated repair people, my ceiling started to leak. The water from heavy rainfall had seeped into the roof, found its way between sheets of sheetrock in the ceiling, and soaked through the popcorn ceiling paint job. The water began hitting the floor about 10 inches behind my chair.

By the time the dripping stopped (about a week later), the ceiling was drooping and the paint was stained.

I was not a happy camper.

To make a very long and unhappy story short, the painters arrived today to paint the ceiling in two rooms of the condo: my husband’s office in the master bedroom and my office in the living room. And from the moment they arrived, I’ve been stuck in an episode of Seinfeld.

You know what I mean. Being in a situation so weird that you can’t believe its real. And it just doesn’t seem to end.

They’re a husband and wife team. An older couple. I can’t remember his name, but her name is Marie. All day long, I hear him calling to Marie, yelling at Marie, being nasty to Marie. Marie, Marie, Marie. When your name is Maria and half the people you just met call you Marie, it can be a very annoying distraction while you’re trying to work.

To her credit, Marie gives some of it back. But just some. I would have rammed my Keds down his throat by now. Both of them.

They can’t agree on anything. They accuse each other of doing various stupid things. They narrate what they’re doing. Maybe they think the place is bugged by the Association and if they don’t keep talking, they’ll be accused of going to sleep on the job.

The place reeks of paint, but Marie told me it’s “odorless.”

They’re done with Mike’s office and now they’re working on the “dining room” area. (They have to paint the whole ceiling in both rooms so the paint matches.) There’s plastic behind me, hanging from the ceiling. And they’re inside their little plastic tent, narrating the job, sniping at each other.

Tomorrow, they’ll do the rest of my office. I don’t know how I’m going to survive here. I certainly won’t be able to get any work done. Maybe I’ll lock myself up in Mike’s office with my PowerBook.

With the door closed.

A Trip to Macworld Expo in San Francisco

I go to Macworld Expo, see new stuff, party with the Peachpitters, and still manage to find my hotel.

TehatchapiI took an America West — or is that US Airways? — flight from Phoenix to San Francisco on Thursday morning. The flight departed at around 8:15 AM and took off into the east into clear skies. The plane banked to the right until it was heading west, following I-10. I saw familiar sights out my window for most of the flight: Wickenburg, Harquahala Mountain, Salome, Bouse, the Colorado River, the road that runs past Rice and eventually past the north end of Joshua Tree National Park, the airport at Twentynine Palms, Big Bear Lake, Apple Valley, Edwards Air Force Base, and Rosamond. The jet took a route just south of the one I usually take when flying the helicopter from Wickenburg to California’s Central Valley, but because we were cruising at about 30,000 feet, I could see so much more. The lake at Rosamond seemed huge, the windmills on the Tehatchapi’s southern slopes were clearly visible. The pass was socked in on both sides with clouds, but the town of Tehatchapi, on top of the mountain, was perfectly clear (see photo). The central valley was completely filled with low clouds — so low that I don’t think general aviation flight would be possible. It reminded me of my scud-running adventure from last spring’s Georgetown, CA to Wickenburg, AZ flight. The tops of the clouds had a odd pattern to them, like waves far out on the ocean.

I spent the flight catching up with podcasts. Listening, that is — I’ve fallen far behind recording them. I listened to NPR’s story of the day episodes stretching back into mid December. When I was finished with those, I started on Slate Magazine podcasts. I did the crossword puzzle in the airplane magazine and attempted to take some notes for a presentation I needed to do later in the day. Then we started our approach to San Francisco and the mountains along the coast poked up their slopes through the clouds below us. There was green grass on some of the southern slopes; in a month or two, all the hills would be a rich green color there. But I seldom get to the California coast in the spring, so I’m accustomed to seeing the grass when it’s all dried out, making the hills look golden in the California sun.

The plane got to the gate at 9 AM local time. I had just one bag — a small backpack that held my PowerBook, some books I planned to give away at the end of my presentation, and clothes for the overnight stay and next day — so I didn’t have to go through the baggage claim ordeal. The bag was heavy, though, and it only seemed to get heavier as I made my way from the gate to the BART station.

BART, in case you don’t know, stands for Bay Area Rapid Transit. I used to take a cab from the airport to Moscone Hall for the Macworld Show, but I’d heard that BART went from the airport into the city and figured I’d give it a try. It was a relatively pleasant trip in a train car that reminded me more of a Long Island Railroad electrified train car than a New York City Subway car. The seats had upholstery and I don’t think they were quite as clean as they should have been. That gave the car a not-so-nice smell. But it wasn’t bad and I got used to it. I listened to my iPod and looked at the window when the train was above ground. It took about 30 minutes to get to what I thought was my stop: Montgomery Street. In reality, I should have gotten out one stop earlier, at Powell.

I came up from underground, got my bearings, realized I’d erred about the train stop, and started walking. San Francisco reminds me a bit of New York in that it has that “old city” feel. Lots of old buildings, many of which are pretty tall, some narrow streets, noisy traffic, homeless people on the sidewalks. The weather was pleasant and I was soon warming up inside my jacket.

My friend Ray called on my cell phone with a lead on a helicopter job for a construction company working along the Mexican border. I stopped and took notes on a receipt, wondering if I could be fortunate enough to get the job.

Advertising ScootersIt was less than a mile to Moscone and when I got there, I found the place relatively quiet. It was just after 10 AM and most attendees had already gone into the exhibit hall. I used a free pass to go through the registration process and get a badge, then crossed the street and went into the hall. I saw some scooters pulling advertising trailers — an Apple advertising gig, I knew. (I later got a photo of the scooters parked alongside the street.) My first order of business was to dump my jacket and the heavy bag at the Peachpit Press booth. It took me a while to find it, which was quite embarrassing because I actually walked right by it twice. They said it was near the Apple booth and they weren’t kidding. It was right inside one of the doorways to the exhibit hall, adjacent to the Apple booth.

I ran into a few people I knew, including Connie Jeung-Mills, the production person who’d worked on many of my books. I chatted with her while I stuffed my belongings under a table skirt in the booth, reserving an old Adobe canvas bag and note pad to carry while I walked the floor. I couldn’t believe the number of books in the booth. Most of the titles were about graphics and Web publishing, but I also the books I’ve written for them: Tiger, QuickBooks, and the little Visual QuickProject Guides for Word and Excel.

iPod-compatible carsI walked the floor. There was a lot to see, but not nearly as much as in the “old days,” when the show took up both sides of Moscone’s hall. I’ve never seen so many iPod accessories in my life. I think one out of every ten booths was peddling something for an iPod. Talk about trying to cash in on a craze. There were even iPod-compatible cars on display (see photo).

By 2:30, I was ready for a rest. I also needed to create my presentation, which was scheduled for 4 PM. I’m a last-minute person — I always have been — so I left the hall and found a seat on one of the balconies overlooking the hall entrance. It was nice and bright and airy up there and only about half the seats were occupied. Some people chatting, some people using laptops, other people eating or reading. I was very surprised to find that my PowerBook immediately connected to a wireless network when I opened it up. I was able to surf the net and check my e-mail.

I jotted down some notes about topics I thought my audience would be interested in. Mostly “cool features” stuff taken from my soon-to-be-published Informit.com article titled “Five Funky Finder Features.” (They may change the title, so if you go looking for it online, keep that in mind.)

While I worked, a man sitting nearby began complaining about how few seats were available. Two of the four balconies were blocked off, cutting the amount of available seats in half. But that didn’t seem to matter, since there were still empty seats to be had. One woman sitting nearby made the fatal error of acknowledging him. This resulted in him continuing his complaints. Another woman finally said to him, “I’m trying to enjoy my lunch and you’re ruining it.” He kept up for another minute or so before the woman, who was eating some kind of salad out of a Tupperware container, said, “No, I really mean it. Your complaints are ruining my lunch.” He seemed to get it then and he shut up. A while later, he closed up his iBook and went away. The whole exchange had been pretty funny. I was glad the woman had spoken up, though. He’d been quite a whiner and it was good when he finally shut up.

I did my presentation and it went well. I covered it in another blog entry.

Afterward, I met with Nancy and Cliff, two of my editors, for drinks and a bite to eat before the Peachpit Party. We wound up at an ethnic restaurant about two blocks away. Don’t ask me what kind of ethnic restaurant — I really don’t know. We ordered three different tappas dishes and a round of drinks. We talked business for a while — stuff I don’t want to cover here. Cliff left to go to an Apple party. Nancy and I finished our drinks and headed over to the Peachpit party.

Peachpit PartyI saw a bunch of Peachpit authors and editors and drank exactly one vodka martini more than I should have. The problem was, I still hadn’t checked into my hotel and I wasn’t exactly sure where it was. Or what it was called. Although I didn’t feel drunk after the third martini, I knew it was time to stop so I switched to water. Good thing I did. They must have used delayed reaction vodka in those drinks because I didn’t start feeling drunk until I was halfway done with my water. Still, I never got too drunk to realize that there were lots of people worse off than I was. Kim was probably the worst. It was her last day of work for Peachpit and she was partying a bit heartier than she should have.

I dug out the info for my hotel around 11:30, realized it was only about a block away from where Tom and Dori were staying, and walked with them. The walk took us down Market Street, which was surprisingly active with normal people (and a few weirdos) at that time of night. When we went our separate ways at Fourth Street, I felt safe enough to continue that last long block on my own. But it was good to get to my hotel and check in. I think the guys at the desk suspected that I wasn’t exactly sober, but they didn’t comment. I’m sure they’ve seen worse. And I wasn’t too drunk to realize that the guy had forgotten to give back my credit card with my room key.

I stayed at the Hotel Milano on Fifth Street. It’s an old hotel that has been fixed up. My seventh floor room had two windows that looked out across a narrow ventilation shaft to the two windows of a room in the next hallway. The room was big with a small television at one end and the king-sized bed at the other. I got undressed and into bed and watched a Seinfeld rerun for a while before turning off the television and going to sleep.

The only thing I’d forgotten to do was to check and adjust the thermostat. I was cold enough all night to sleep poorly but not cold enough to get up and do something about it. I hate that.

I woke at 5:30 AM local time. (I hate that, too.) I watched some Weather Channel and started work on this bLog entry before showering, getting dressed, and going out for breakfast. I wound up at the Marriott a few blocks away. I had a nice breakfast from the buffet, then walked back to my hotel and wasted more time on my computer. The show didn’t open until 10 AM and there was no reason to rush.

I packed and checked out at 9:30 AM. My bag was heavy, despite the fact that I’d given away the five books I’d brought with me from Arizona and I hadn’t bought anything else. I did have some product literature on board, but not enough to take the weight of five books.

At Moscone, I took a seat on one of the balconies to check my e-mail and my Web sites. The sites had been down the day before because of a computer glitch, but they were back online that morning. At 10 AM, I was back on the show floor, stashing my bag under a table at the Peachpit booth.

I bought a SightFlex stand for my iSight camera. Heavy.

I called America West and asked about an earlier flight. It was fully booked.

The Apple BoothI bothered an Apple booth guy for a demo of iWeb. It’s a cool little software package and I hope Peachpit lets me write a book about it. The guy who gave the demo was a software engineer and had written Pages, Apple’s word processing program. (I don’t know why they didn’t have him demo that.) I told him I used Word and had been using it for years. He told me that if I tried Pages, I’d switch. So I’ll try it again next week and see how I do with it. Word really is overkill sometimes. But, at the same time, I’m not too thrilled with the idea of software that works more like a page layout program than a word processor without giving you the control over page elements. If I recall, that was my main gripe about Pages.

The Apple BoothThe Apple Booth, by the way, was enormous. I think it gets bigger every year. There’s always a huge theater area (see photo) and this year there were 40-foot high “posters” of the new MacBook Pro (terrible name!) laptop and Intel processor iMac. I felt like a Lilliputian as I walked around the booth.

I wandered around the hall some more, killing time.

I ran into Sandee Cohen, Ted Landau, and Tonya Engst at the Peachpit booth and spent some time chatting with each of them. Then I grabbed my bag and made my exit. It was 11:30. I figured I’d stop by the Apple store before grabbing a bite to eat.

I dropped off my bag at a hotel along the way, checking it with a bellman. It felt good to get that damn thing off my back.

After looking around the Apple Store, I spent about an hour in Cody’s, a very nice bookstore near Market Street, not far from Virgin and the Apple Store. They were expecting President Carter as a speaker later in the day and the audience seats were already starting to fill with people who had nothing better to do with their time than spend the day sitting in a folding chair in the basement of a building, surrounded by books.

I walked up to Union Square, passing a handful of panhandlers and more than a handful of tourists. The cable car runs down Powell Street there and there are always a lot of tourists around. The area itself reminds me of lower Broadway in New York, with lots of discount luggage stores and shops that sell t-shirts and other tourist favorites. Kind of sleezy without being sleezy enough to scare people away.

Then I made my way to the Nikko, thinking about sushi for lunch. I was just about to go into the Japanese restaurant there when I noticed a Chinese dim sum restaurant across the street. I went there instead and had a very good lunch.

By that time, I’d had enough of San Francisco and was ready to head out to the airport. You know, I’ve been to San Francisco dozens of times and, unless you have a lot of time on your hands and comfortable walking shoes on your feet, it isn’t such a great place. I had neither and was more interested in finding a comfortable place to wait for my flight home than shopping or even walking around the city.

I retrieved my bag, gave the bellman a tip, and descended into the BART station. A while later, I was on a train bound for Daly City. I changed trains and got on another one for the airport. I listened to podcasts the entire time: Slate magazine and, when I was finished with those, Slate Explainer. The usual at the airport: get a boarding pass, go through security, find the gate, settle into a seat. I found a seat by an electric outlet and used it to charge up my PowerBook. For some reason, I expected to use it on the plane.

The plane was completely booked. Overbooked, in fact. They offered $400 worth of travel for volunteers, but I wasn’t interested. There was a woman in my seat when I boarded and, since it was my seat and not hers, she gave it up. When all the seats were filled, they closed the doors and we got underway.

I was asleep within ten minutes of departure.

A Trip to Sedona

I spend the day in Sedona, waiting for some passengers.

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of flying two very nice people from Canada from Wickenburg to Sedona for the day. We arrived at Sedona Airport, after a scenic flight around Wickenburg, Prescott, and Sedona’s red rocks, around 11:30 AM — just in time for the Pink Jeep Tour shuttle to pick us up and bring us down to the town. My passengers were taking a Jeep Tour; I planned on just hanging around downtown until they were ready to return at 3 or 4 PM. I escorted them to the Jeep Tour desk, reminded them that they could change their reservation, and watched them reserve a Jeep and driver all to themselves for departure at 1 PM. Then I left them to walk around town on my own.

The Pink Jeep Tour company’s offices are in “uptown” Sedona. That’s the heart of the tourist district in the northwest corner of town at the mouth of Oak Creek Canyon. The tourist shops that line both sides of the street there are dwarfed by the massive red rock formations behind them. But all attention in uptown Sedona is concentrated on those shops. I admit that mine was, too.

I hadn’t been to the town of Sedona for years. I’ve been flying in quite regularly with passengers, but I seldom come down off the mesa where the airport is located. There’s a restaurant up there and I usually have breakfast or lunch or whatever while my passengers explore the town on their own. They’re usually gone about 2 hours at the most, so I busy myself with a book while I’m waiting. It’s a nice, relaxing place.

But yesterday, my passengers wanted a longer stay in town. And since the Pink Jeep people offered me a lift in the shuttle, too, I went down the hill with them.

I walked the few blocks of uptown Sedona at a leisurely pace. I saw lots of T-shirt shops and lots of souvenir shops. The usual collection of real and fake Indian crafts and jewelry. Imported Mexican rugs. Jeep tour companies. Reservation centers. The wonderful map and bookstore that had been in one of the shopping areas was gone and I was sorely disappointed. I’d depended on that shop for reading material while I waited and it didn’t appear, at first, as if there were another bookstore in town. I finally found one across the street from the Pink Jeep storefront, the last shop on my walking tour.

My Sedona passengers from last week’s flight had spent only 90 minutes in town before returning to the airport. They called Sedona a “tourist trap.” And frankly, as I walked the streets, I couldn’t argue with them. But I hadn’t really expected it to be any different. I don’t know what they expected. After all, take a beautiful place, make its beauty well-known, and people will flock there. When enough people flock there, the tourist shops will start springing up like mold on old bread. After a while, those shops (like mold) completely cover the area, masking what people found so beautiful in the first place.

Now I don’t want to give you the idea that Sedona is “ruined.” It isn’t. There are still plenty of beautiful sights around town. Sadly, there are so many people there to view those sites, you’re always part of a crowd. You need to come to Sedona with your own Jeep and a trail map to get away from the herd. Bring a picnic lunch and your camera. And, for heaven’s sake, don’t come on a weekend!

I ran into my passengers on the street just before they went to lunch. They invited me to join them, but I felt as if I would be intruding, so I declined. I had lunch at a tea shop across from the Pink Jeep place and sat outside on a narrow balcony to eat and read the book I’d bought in the bookstore down below. It was windy and rather cold up there, so I didn’t last long.

Afterwards, I went for a walk back the way I’d come. That’s when I saw the Hummer tour sign. They had a 1-hour tour leaving immediately. It was the “Jeep Eater” Tour. Supposedly, this tour took passengers places were Jeeps couldn’t go. I pulled out my credit card and, minutes later, was seated in the front passenger seat of a Hummer, about 6 feet away from its driver. (Okay, so maybe it wasn’t that wide, but it sure seemed like it.) There were two passengers, a couple from Baton Rouge, in the open-air seating behind us. That was it.

The road that Jeeps can’t drive on isn’t in Sedona. It’s halfway back to Cottonwood, off of 89A. It’s a power line road — that’s a road built to maintain a power line — and frankly, there were only about 4 places on the whole ride that I would have been uncomfortable about taking my Jeep. That’s not to say that my Jeep couldn’t have done it. But I’m not sure that it could have done it with me at the wheel. During the whole ride, the driver kept pointing out other roads that the couple from Baton Rouge could explore on their own with the ATV’s they’d trailered up from home. The driver was obviously working hard to add value to the ride and maximize his tip potential. Whatever. It managed to stretch the tour out to 90 minutes, bringing us back to Sedona just when my passengers were due back. In case couldn’t read between the lines in this paragraph, I don’t recommend this tour. It wasn’t worth the $100 I spent on the tour plus tip. But at least I know what it’s like to ride in a real Hummer.

I hurried back toward the Pink Jeep place and found one of my passengers outside a gift shop. His wife was inside, shopping. They’d had a great time and had looked for me to join them before they left. I didn’t tell them about the Hummer.

I left them for a short while to pick up a gift for a friend of mine and a piece of apple pie that was really good. Then we got back on the shuttle, rode up to the airport, and flew home.

I’m glad I got to go to Sedona for the day. I feel all caught up with things down there. And I’m sure I’ll be back soon — not only by helicopter, but perhaps by Jeep to see just what my Jeep can do.

7.1 Piglets!

I buy a new digital camera.

I was at the Apple Store in Tucson last week. I did a presentation on their 30-inch monitor for a small group of Mac OS X users. It was probably the best presentation I did because the audience was involved, which kept me animated, and they shared some of their tips with me, so I learned something, too.

Like many Apple stores, Tucson’s 30-inch monitor is set up close to the digital cameras. So close, in fact, that I fiddled around with the cameras on display while talking to a shopper before I began. I began admiring a Canon model that would take 5.0 megapixel images (or 5.0 piglet images, as my stepfather would say) and still fit in my purse. That sure beat the 2.1 piglet model I was carrying around. Except I wasn’t carrying it around. I’d left it home. Tucson was our first stop on a trip to Maine. We would leave the following morning, straight from our Tucson hotel to Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport and beyond. When I was packing, I couldn’t find the battery charger for the 2.1 piglet Canon, so I’d left it home. No sense bringing a camera if you can’t charge the battery. I have another Canon camera, a 5.0 piglet G5, which I’d bought for aerial photography work. It wouldn’t fit in my purse, but it took great pictures.

Now here I was at the Apple Store, looking at a camera that would do the same thing and still fit in my purse.

Did I mention I got a royalty check last week? It arrived the day before we went to Tucson. It was a very nice check. The kind of check that makes you want to buy a round of drinks in the local bar. Or buy yourself a new toy.

It didn’t take much convincing. Mike, to his credit, tried to remain neutral throughout. But somehow I convinced myself to buy it. And it was kind of nice that the Apple Store offers discounts to Pearson authors. It wasn’t a big discount, but a small discount is better than no discount.

The sales guy at the counter went into the back and returned with two boxes that looked identical.”I only want one,” I said cheerfully.”Yes,” he said, “but I thought you might like to see this model. It’s basically the same camera, but it has 7.1 megapixels. That means you can make bigger enlargements.”He began a discussion of why more piglets is better than less. I already knew so I gently cut him short. Mike and I discussed it. The price difference wasn’t major. And that royalty check had been quite impressive. I talked myself into the upgrade.

So now I have a 7.1 piglet camera in my purse.

Photo
I took some photos in Maine. My favorite is above.

And I didn’t even take the G5 out of its camera bag.

Brunch at the Princess

Now THAT’S a meal to remember!

We spent Saturday night in Tucson after my Apple store appearance. We had a 9:05 AM flight from Phoenix to Boston and it seemed silly to drive all the way back to Wickenburg just to drive back to Phoenix in the morning.

We were actually on line for security at Sky Harbor when we decided to look at our boarding passes. That’s when we discovered that America West had changed our flight to one departing at about 1:30 PM. We were four and a half hours early for our new flight.

I hate when that happens.

Fortunately, we had a car at the airport and it was Sunday morning. Sunday morning in Phoenix means brunch to Mike and me. We normally go to the Biltmore, but we’ve been there so many times that we were interested in trying something new. I suggested the Scottsdale Princess. The information booth near baggage claim had the number. I called and made a reservation for 10 AM.

I should have been suspicious when they told me they wanted a credit card number to hold the reservation. But I just rattled it off — I use my American Express card so often the number is memorized — and hung up.

I never asked about price. After all, how much could it be? The most we’d ever spent on brunch was $55 per person at the Biltmore some years ago, when it was a very good brunch. It’s not quite as good now, but I think it’s cheaper.

We had sticker shock when we saw the sign at the restaurant’s door: $70 per person. Ouch! No wonder they get your credit card number and have a 24-hour cancellation policy. They don’t want to lose potential customers who faint away when they see what they’ll be paying. Silly people like us who don’t ask first.

But they were pouring Taitinger champagne — not the cheap junk most restaurants try to get away with at Sunday brunch. And everything looked good. I mean really good. So we went in.

Oh, how I needed an experience like this! Excellent service, from the moment we stepped up to the door. We were seated by a maitre d’ wearing a crisp, clean suit who didn’t seem the least bit put off by our ultra casual attire. He put us at a table by the window, where we could look out at the gardens. Our waiter appeared almost immediately, offering bottled water and then champagne. He offered to give us a tour of the buffet area, which extended from the restaurant’s interior out to a beautifully decorated Mediterranean looking courtyard. We decided to explore for ourselves and wandered outside.

I have never seen a brunch with as many options as this one. There were smoked and grilled meats with accompanying relishes and sauces. All kinds of smoked fish. Three kinds of caviar with all the fixin’s. Grilled vegetables. Tapas. Plain and exotic fruits. An omelet station, a crepe station, a pasta station, and a carving station — which also offered freshly grilled filet mignon, pork chops, lamb chops, salmon, and trout. Giant, pre-peeled shrimp and steamed crab legs. At least 10 kinds of cheeses. At least 20 kinds of desserts.

Everything was of unquestionable quality, prepared to perfection, and displayed attractively. The staff was knowledgeable and friendly.

We made four trips to the buffet. Although the place filled right up, there was never a line for anything we wanted to eat. Each time we returned with a new plate, our old plate and silverware was gone and new silverware was in its place. Our napkins were neatly folded at our place. Our waiter returned frequently to refresh our champagne. One time, we finished our champagne before going to the buffet for more food and returned to find our glasses still empty. I was surprised that our waiter had apparently slipped. But he appeared with the champagne bottle right after we returned and poured, explaining that he didn’t want the champagne to sit and get warm in our glasses while we were gone.

Was I dreaming? Pinch me!

Oh, how I needed this experience! I’d begun to think that service and quality was something I could no longer expect when dining out. This set me straight again. Thank heaven our flight plans were changed!

After an hour and a half, we asked for our check. When the waiter brought it, he told us that we’d eaten quickly, that people usually stayed an average of three hours. We told him about our flight and he understood.

Brunch cost over $170 for two, including tip. But was it worth it? You bet! I’ll be back again — when other plans don’t “rush” me through my meal.

And one more thing. Our new flight to Boston stopped in Las Vegas and didn’t get to Boston until midnight local time. Our brunch may have been expensive, but it lasted the whole day — we weren’t the least bit hungry on the flight.